Bunny Slope
Santana waddled out to the snowy hill and sat down on a bench to wait for Quinn. They'd decided to spend Christmas as just the two of them that year, instead of getting together with their extended Gleeky family. Breckenridge, Colorado had been amazing, and she knew she wasn't going to want to leave in a week.
"All set!" Quinn chirped.
"What's that?" Santana asked.
"A…snowboard. Why?"
"Since when do you snowboard?"
"Since forever, you goober," Quinn said, laughing. "What is it?"
"How did I not know this?"
"Blame Russell," her girlfriend said. "See, he wanted me to learn to ski. Proper privileged white girl activity. But…and I don't remember how, but somehow I got a hold of a snowboard. And the only thing that ever trumped expectation in our house was sheer god-given talent. Still, I had to keep it on lock. Wasn't winning any trophies or things he could brag about, so the talent was useless and unladylike."
Santana stood gaping at her, then bent down to take off her skiis.
"What the hell? We're all ready to go!" Quinn whined.
"Fuck that noise. You're teaching me how to snowboard. I can't let you be that much more badass than me, Blondie."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Fine, but we're starting on the bunny slopes."
