Authors Note: So this is a little earlier than intended, just don't expect future chapters to keep being early! :)

I'm glad you all appreciated the previous chapter even if it was painful to read. Hopefully you'll like this chapter too.

I'm not going to say who Quinn is dating right now or why Santana was looking for Rachel, but you will find out soon.


The bedroom door flies open so violently that it actually manages to crash against the wall and before it has even had a chance to rebound, Quinn has charged into the room.

"Santana! I can't find Rachel! She's not in her room and I've looked…" Quinn trails off as she sees the diva curled up and still sleeping in Santana's arms.

"Shut up Q" Santana hisses, "You'll wake her."

Quinn's eyes shift back and forth between the sleeping form of Rachel and the glaring form of Santana as if trying to work out the answer to a difficult math problem and then her eyes narrow and she fairly growls at Santana.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, whatever." Santana says dismissively, "Later. And shut the door on your way out."

"Now!" demands Quinn.

Santana rolls her eyes but starts the complex process of getting out of bed without disturbing the diva that was sleeping in her arms and mostly on top of her at this point. She knows that tone from Quinn and she really doesn't want to deal with a pissed off blonde this early in the morning. There are a couple of times that Santana thinks Rachel is going to wake but after some swift soothing, both a hand rubbing her gently on the back and some soft words whispered in her ear, Santana has managed to extract herself from the other girl without walking her up.

She doesn't bother with a robe, Quinn has seen her in her sleep wear and less more often that Santana would care to remember, but after she closes her room door she stalks past the blonde without even glancing at her and heads straight for the kitchen. If they're going to do this, she's going to need coffee.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Quinn demands trailing along behind the Latina.

"Making coffee."

"You know what I mean!" Quinn declares.

"No I fucking don't. You barge in to my bedroom at some ridiculous time of the morning bitching about god knows what before I've even woken up and had some coffee. So you can shut your mouth and wait until my percolator is done or you can get the hell out of my apartment and go back to LA"

Quinn scowls at Santana but perches in one of the stools at the breakfast bar and watches silently as Santana makes her way around the kitchen. Santana, in turn, totally ignores the fact that Quinn exists for the moment and concentrates on making the coffee without burning herself or chopping off an extremity. Yeah she's really that bad in the morning.

Just to piss Quinn off even more she takes her time and makes herself some toast, even though she has no intention of eating it, before pouring her coffee and settling down at the other end of the other side of the breakfast bar from Quinn.

"Don't I get some coffee?"

"Help yourself." Santana suggests.

The Latina is fully aware that she'd only made enough coffee for herself and she can't help but grin when Quinn thumps the jug down in disgust.

"So what exactly did you wake me up for at god-awful early in the morning for?"

"What are you doing with Rachel?" the blonde demands.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're taking advantage of her, that's what!" Quinn says angrily, "I find her in bed with you despite the fact you said she had her own room. What are you doing Santana? Is this how you're making her pay for you helping her? Forcing her to sleep with you?"

The slap echoes through the room and Santana doesn't even realise she has moved or struck out until the sting begins in the palm of her hand. She does however react fast enough to step back to avoid Quinn's retaliation strike and manages to snag the other girls wrist in a tight grasp, slamming her hand down on the marble counter between them and watching Quinn wince at the contact.

The Latina glances down to find to her disgust that her coffee mug had been knocked over at some point and the spilled coffee was now being soaked up by her toast as well as dripping down onto the floor.

"You spilled my coffee!" she says

"What the hell was that for?!" Quinn demands at the same moment.

"For fuck sake Quinn, you do realise you just basically accused me of rape right?" Santana snaps, "You expect me to sit here and take that? You're lucky a slap is all you got!"

Quinn just glares at the Latina, "You've basically ensured that Rachel is totally dependent on you now Santana, she has no apartment or job of her own, everything she has fits into three bags, two of which belong to you. So I'm pretty sure she would agree to anything you ask her to do."

"Grow the fuck up Q." Santana demands, "You said it yourself, this isn't high school any more so don't think you can come into my home and accuse me of shit like that." Santana releases Quinn's hand and stabs her in the chest with a finger, "I'm not playing games and I have no intention of taking advantage of her. For your information Rachel came to me last night. The night before when we were over at her ex-apartment I held her until she cried herself to sleep and she wanted that again last night, to be held by someone that actually gives a damn about her and to feel safe. Might have something to do with the fact that she had to tell her story twice in less than twelve hours."

Santana takes a breath deliberately skipping the offer Rachel had made to her the previous night, not only to avoid giving Quinn the wrong idea, but because no one but her and Rachel and maybe Rachel's therapist needed to know about that, ever.

"So that's what happened, I held her till she fell asleep and then I held her while she slept. It was you that turned it into something it wasn't in that sick little mind of yours."

"I'm just trying to look out for her. I care about her and…"

"And what? You automatically think I'm going to take advantage of her? Nice to know you have such a high opinion of me." Santana eyes the mess on the breakfast bar before continuing, "Look, I don't particularly care what you do today but don't do it in this apartment. And if you're not ready by this evening to offer a grovelling apology for what you just accused me of, make sure you have a flight back to LA booked for the morning, because I don't want to see you again until you do."

"You can't just chuck me out!"

"My home, my rules. You don't like it then go find a fucking hotel." Santana turns to head back to the bedroom, "And clean up that mess you caused!"

"Where are you going?" Quinn demands.

"Back to bed, it's too damn early for this shit since you spilt my coffee and I don't want Rach to wake up alone."

Santana refrains from slamming the bedroom door even though she really wants to and leans back against it, the back of her head resting against the cool wood as she eyes the girl on her bed. Rachel has rolled over and curled up on her side of the bed and looks so small under the comforter but for the first time since Santana first saw the girl in the club a few days ago, she actually looks peaceful.

The cheerleader crosses to the bed and tries to climb back in without disturbing the diva but Rachel must have felt something for as soon as Santana is settled, she rolls over again and curls into the Latina's side, resting her head on Santana's shoulder. It seems to have been an automatic reaction because she gives no other indication to Santana that she's awake and when Santana is still smiling when she finally slips off to sleep.


It takes some time for Santana to realize why her bed feels cold and empty when she wakes a few hours later. A glance at her alarm clock tells her it's almost lunch time and for some reason she's slept a lot later than she normally does even with Quinn's interruption in the early morning so she assumes that Rachel has gotten up ages ago and is entertaining herself somewhere in the apartment, after all Santana seems to remember Rachel being a morning person back on the few occasions they had shared a room together at Glee competition trips.

At least the diva didn't wake her up by singing.

But Santana's conclusion is proven wrong very shortly afterwards when the door to her en-suite opens and Rachel steps out wrapped only in a towel with damp hair and drops of water beading on her bare shoulders. She doesn't notice that Santana has woken since the Latina hasn't really moved since she woke and instead crosses to stare out of a small gap in the curtains over the window to the city outside as she uses another towel on her hair.

Santana can't help it as her eyes dip down the diva's body, she's seen the girl naked twice now, hell she's held her naked body close to her own overnight as the diva slept fitfully, and up until now she hasn't felt anything other than sadness and overwhelming need to take care of the girl. But now as her eyes take in the swell over Rachel's towel covered breasts, the curve of her hips, the shape of her just covered butt and those long, long legs and the Latina can't help but feel a spark of desire for the diva.

She mentally shakes herself. Rachel is too fragile and too reliant on her right now. Quinn was right on one thing, Rachel might feel she has to agree to whatever she suggests and the one thing Santana is not going to do is take advantage of the situation or of Rachel. So restraint is required, concentrate on getting the girl back on her feet and then… maybe…

"Penny for your thoughts." Santana offers making Rachel jump.

"I thought you were still asleep" Rachel explains when she collected herself again, "I hope you don't mind me using your shower, I was already in it before I realized it wasn't the one in my apartment."

"Your old apartment" Santana corrects automatically, "And its fine Rach, just as long as you don't set up camp in there or something."

Rachel offers Santana a small smile and a nod before returning her gaze to the scene outside the window.

"So?" Santana asks after a minute, "What are you thinking about so hard?"

"Last night." Rachel says as her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment.

"Look, you don't have to be embarrassed or worried about that Rachel" Santana says thinking about the offer Rachel had made the previous night, "I'm never going to tell anyone about it and it's in the past, as far as I'm concerned it's forgotten, okay?" Rachel nods and Santana adds, "You are still going to talk to the therapist, right?"

"If you think that's best."

Santana cocks her head and considers Rachel for a moment, "Normally I'd say it's up to you to decide what's best for you, but honestly I don't know if you can even do that right now. And yes, I do think it's for the best."

"Then I'll go." Rachel confirms. "So what's the plan for today?"

"What do you want to do?"

Rachel shakes her head, "The club has pretty much been my life for the last two years. I don't remember the last time I wasn't working or trying to forget about working…"

Santana is pretty sure that 'trying to forget' meant Rachel drinking herself into a stupor. How many times had the girl resorted to that to get away from the hell that was her life? And what sort of effect had it had on her body? Santana had seen that Rachel looked okay on the outside, but god know how much damage that much alcohol had done to her system.

"And now you don't know what to do with yourself given work isn't an issue any more?" Santana asks. Rachel nods and Santana smiles, "Well how about you get dressed while I take a quick shower and then we can go out for lunch?" Rachel looks a little pensive and Santana adds, "Unless you don't want to…"

"It's just… Is it wise for you to be seen with me by those paparazzi? If someone recognizes me…"

"No one will recognize you Rach" Santana assures the diva, "I barely recognized you with that mask on and I knew it was you. And anyway, I know a place we'll get some privacy, it's not like I like having them follow me around and snapping photos all the time."

A quick shower and a few phone calls later, Santana finds Rachel sitting in her room staring out of her window again. She's wearing the same worn jeans as the previous day and a different though equally worn hoody with what is, as far as Santana can tell, the NYADA logo on it. The Latina frowns at the sight and then mentally flips back over all the items of clothing she had packed for the diva in that ratty little apartment and came to an unsurprising conclusion. Everything Rachel owned was about as old and worn as the things she was currently wearing.

"So I'm thinking after lunch we can go shopping." Santana says, "What do you think?"