Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own them. RIB and Fox and a stable full of people who don't care about them do. I'm just taking them out for a spin to try and make them feel a little more loved. I'll bring them back ... maybe.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and alerts. I know I'm not a particularly regular updater, so getting the odd reminder in my inbox that people are still reading this actually helps me finishing this. I'm not going to apologize for not updating more often (what's the point, really?) but I promise to at least try and finish this story. Glee has left me very cold this season, though, so it's not as much fun as it used to be.

A/N 2: Fair warning: There's some Faberry in this chapter, although it's basically from Santana's POV and there's some mild mental torture for Rachel involved. The main focus is, and will remain, on Santana and Brittany.

Chapter 10

"Do you think Rachel is going to be there?" Brittany looked up for a moment from fiddling with the car stereo. They were on their way to meet Quinn and possibly Rachel for brunch and while Brittany could have lived without spending her Sunday morning with Rachel, she wanted Quinn to be happy. Plus, she'd had a really great evening and night with Santana, so she was feeling … generous.

"No idea," Santana replied. "Can you imagine what it might take for her to actually come?"

"What do you mean?"

"Britt, we've been making her life pretty damn miserable for a few years and now she's supposed to hang out with us?" Santana glanced over at her girlfriend. "I would be just a little suspicious … add to that the fact that she kissed Quinn … it's gotta be a little difficult."

"Huh," Brittany grunted, "I guess that means I have to be nice to her." She scrunched her face as if she'd tasted something horrible. Then she sighed. "Okay, I think I can do that. As long as she doesn't say bad things about you, that is. Did Quinn say anything else?"

Santana shook her head. "All Quinn texted was 'Menotti's 11am'," she mumbled, slightly distracted by Brittany's hand that was still fiddling with the stereo buttons. "Do you really like it?" she asked hesitantly.

Brittany followed Santana's line of sight and grinned. "I. Love. It." Her voice was patient, although they'd had the same conversation about 50 times in the past 12 hours. For some reason Santana was insecure about her prowess with power tools, even though Brittany had never seen anything hotter and had demonstrated that to Santana in their room later on.

Santana grinned as her mind wandered back to last night as well. "Last night was … amazing, Britt," she whispered, her voice holding just a tinge of awe. "All of it, every second of it." She reached over to hold Brittany's hand.

"It was," Brittany agreed readily. "We are absolutely awesome together, you know?"

"I know," Santana said as she parked the car in the small lot next to Menotti's. "At least we can be if I keep my head out of my ass and stop doing stupid things," she added with a self-deprecating smirk.

"True, that's always helpful." Brittany turned in her seat and fully faced Santana. They had a few moments before they needed to head inside. "But I know you love me and you don't really do these stupid things to hurt me. I just think we need to learn to communicate a bit better."

Santana nodded. They had spent most of their evening in the Pierce's workshop with Brittany gently guiding Santana through the process of making a ring from a coin. And they had talked for hours, mostly about their future and their plans, while working on that symbol of their connection … or that at least was how Brittany had described her thoughts to Santana afterwards.

"You have no idea how happy you make me," Santana said, her eyes finding Brittany's. "Thank you for being so patient with me last night … and for understanding … and …"

"And for the amazingly hot sex?"

Santana burst out laughing. "I was trying to have a serious moment here, Britt," she said between giggles. "But yeah, that too."

"Best night ever," Brittany said with a grin. "Everything about it." She grinned cheekily. "Sorry for ruining your serious moment, by the way."

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not."

"Ready to go?"

"You think they have banana-stuffed French toast?"

They were still a few minutes early when they walked into the restaurant, but Quinn was already there and waving them over to a table by a large window.

"Morning, Q," Santana drawled slowly, taking in her friend's appearance.

"Oh, you look very nice, Quinn." Brittany leaned over and gave Quinn a one-armed hug while messing up her hair with her free hand.

"Hey!" Quinn protested and tried to pat down her hair. She scowled at Brittany.

Santana laughed as she pulled out a chair for her girlfriend. "Don't worry, Q, you still look your best. Brittany just made you look a little … hotter."

"Do I really look okay?" The sudden vulnerability in Quinn's tone was hard to bear for Santana. "I want to look … okay."

Santana leaned forward in her chair and looked straight into Quinn's eyes. "You look great, Quinn, really good. You always do, you know that. Well, except for when you decided to give up soap and clean clothes and dye your hair pink …" She winked at Quinn, who stuck out her tongue at her friend.

"Don't worry, Quinn," Brittany added. She reached across the table and put her hand on Quinn's arm. "You're wonderful and worth it and you look great. She's going to love you."

Quinn mumbled something that sounded like "I hope so" before focusing a shrewd gaze on Brittany's hand. "So you have one now, too?"

Santana and Brittany looked at Brittany's ring. "Yes, isn't it wonderful?" Britt practically gushed. "Santana made it for me last night."

"Santana made that?" Quinn's eyes wandered over to Santana's face, which was beginning to look a shade darker as she blushed.

"Santana did," Santana replied simply. She shrugged, trying to deflect from the enormity of it all, but Quinn had always been a bit of a bloodhound.

Quinn looked back at Brittany. "So, does that mean you're officially engaged now?" Her voice was teasing but the look on her face was one of genuine interest.

Brittany looked at Santana who shrugged. Quinn was their friend and Brittany could never keep a secret anyway.

"We're not really engaged," Brittany said quietly and to Santana's surprise. "Except we sort of are," she added with an enormous grin.

"I think you'll have to explain that, B." Quinn looked between her two friends.

"You really want to know the whole story?" Santana asked.

"Absolutely."

"Okay." Santana looked around the restaurant and when she was sure that nobody was watching them or listening to them, she took Brittany's hand. "Long story short: Britt asked me to marry her yesterday, but I told her that we were way too young for something like that, so for now we're calling it a promise."

Quinn watched Brittany's face during Santana's short explanation. "You don't think you're too young, do you?" she asked quietly.

Brittany shook her head. "I've wanted to marry Santana since I was five. I think I've been remarkably patient."

Quinn grinned. "For what it's worth, I agree with both of you."

"How is that even possible?" Santana asked.

"I agree with you that you're too young to make it official and to get married, but mostly because of what people would say, really. And I agree with Brittany because I know that the two of you will get married, and probably sooner rather than later, and she has shown a lot of patience where you are concerned. I also know that it doesn't really matter when you get married because … it's inevitable. It's like a law of nature or something."

Santana gaped at her, speechless for the moment, while Brittany beamed her brightest smile at Quinn. "That was so nice, Q."

Santana found her voice. "Was that your audition speech for the role of bridesmaid or best woman or something?"

Quinn laughed. "It was worth a try, wasn't it?" She and Santana laughed. "Seriously though, you two should do whatever feels right to you because if I know one thing it's that you belong together."

"Thank you, Quinn," Brittany and Santana said together, as if to prove Quinn's point.

"So, any idea if Rachel is going to show up?" Santana asked, hoping to change the subject.

"She is," a voice answered from next to their table.

"Hey, Rachel," Brittany greeted the newcomer with a wide grin. "Come, sit down."

Brunch at Menotti's was buffet style, a fact that made Santana extraordinarily happy at the moment. Not because of the food, although that was as heavenly as it could be, but because it allowed her to escape from the weird atmosphere at their table every so often. Right now she surveyed the fruit choices and wondered if anyone would find it strange if she just took a strawberry, walked back to the table, ate the strawberry and came back over to the buffet for another one.

With a sigh she picked a few strawberries, knowing that Brittany would eat most of them anyway, and added two slices of melon for good measure. She was just about to head back to the table when she felt her girlfriend close behind her.

"Hey," she muttered with a smile.

"They're being strange," Brittany said with a nod in the direction of their table. "Can we go soon?"

Santana laughed. "I wish … but I promised Quinn we'd help her through this date."

"If this is a date, it's the weirdest one I've ever had the displeasure of witnessing," Brittany remarked dryly. "And they don't even have banana-stuffed French toast here."

Santana couldn't stand the pout that settled on Brittany's lips. "Here, could you take this plate back to the table? I'll be right back."

Brittany gazed at her suspiciously, but took the plate and walked back. Santana looked around the busy restaurant, chose her target and headed straight for a guy in white.

When she made it back to the table five minutes later, Quinn was staring out the window, Rachel was looking at her fruit salad, and Brittany was playing with the last strawberry on Santana's plate.

She sat down, wincing a little at how unhappy Brittany looked and how miserable both Rachel and Quinn seemed to be. She was cursing herself for ever coming up with this idea, but figured now that they were here, they'd better make sure they hadn't totally wasted their morning. Besides, they couldn't leave yet.

"So, Rachel," she addressed the girl sitting across from her, who promptly dropped her fork with a clang. "Oops, sorry, did I rip you from some deep thoughts?"

Rachel blushed. "Actually, yes … and I guess I'm not used to hearing my actual name coming from you."

Santana shot Quinn a pointed look and a smirk. "Told you that would happen." Then she turned back to Rachel. "Would it make you less uncomfortable if I called you Berry?"

Rachel seemed to think about that. "Maybe," she replied after a few moments. "I don't know, but …" She trailed off.

Quinn looked at her, something like panic in her eyes. "What is it? Are you unhappy that you're here?"

Santana watched in fascination as Rachel and Quinn stared at each other until Brittany viciously stabbed a piece of melon on Santana's plate, effectively disturbing the already quite disturbing moment.

"No, no, not unhappy, no," Rachel mumbled.

"Oh," Quinn sighed.

Santana rolled her eyes. It was either that or laughing out loud at the sad, sorry display in front of her. "You have got to be kidding me," she said finally when she realized that Quinn would just go back to being silent.

Both Quinn and Rachel looked up at her at that, Rachel looking curious and Quinn looking strangely scared. Brittany nudged her arm slightly and gave her a nod. Okay, now I better say something.

She took a deep breath and prayed this was the right thing to do. She addressed Rachel first. "Listen, this is how it's going to go down. You better get used to hearing your name from me, if you want to hang out with us because Quinn there doesn't like it when I call you anything else."

At Rachel's startled look, Santana snorted. "Yeah, go figure," she said. "It's true though. And the reason we're all here today is not actually the great food or the fun that we're all having staring at our own plate in deafening silence—"

"Santana," Quinn hissed loudly, but Santana ignored her.

"The reason we're here is that my friend Quinn over there—"

"Santana!" This time Quinn's voice was a lot louder and more determined.

"Yes, Quinn?" Santana asked sweetly. "Was there something you wanted to add to our conversation?" Quinn looked at her with murder in her eyes and Santana really hoped she was doing the right thing.

Quinn's mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. Finally, it looked like Rachel had enough. "Was there a reason you invited me here this morning, Quinn?" she asked gently.

Santana was about to reply for Quinn when a hand on her arm and Brittany's subtle shake of her head stopped her.

Quinn scrunched her eyes together. "Well, yes … actually … I thought …"

Santana groaned. "Use your words, Quinn. Or I will."

They were interrupted by a waiter, who put a plate in front of Brittany. "Banana-stuffed French toast for you, ma'am," he said politely and left.

"Santana, how?" Brittany looked between the plate and her girlfriend's face.

"You wanted your French toast thingy, so I asked them to make it for you," she said with a nonchalant shrug. Threatened, bribed and begged actually, but whatever.

"That is so sweet of you, Santana," Brittany said with a huge smile. She knew what it cost her girlfriend to be mushy in front of other people.

"That really was incredibly sweet, Santana," Rachel said with a smile while Quinn pretended to cough, hoping that nobody would hear her murmured "whipped, so whipped" under her breath. Everyone heard her loud and clear.

"And I think it probably involved a lot more than asking," Rachel added with a knowing smile. "My dads and I came here a few weeks ago and we were told specifically that they don't do special requests on brunch Sundays."

"I'm hard to say no to," Santana quipped.

"Apparently." With that Rachel turned back to Quinn. "You were about to tell me why I'm here."

Santana watched as Quinn took a huge breath before she turned her body fully towards Rachel. "Ilikeyoualot," she rushed out in one breath.

Rachel's eyes widened. "You like me? Did I hear that right?"

Quinn nodded. "I like you." It seemed easier the second time around and Santana could fully appreciate that fact. It was easier once you were past the hurdle the first time. Come on, Quinn, bring it home.

"The thing is … I think I might be gay, Rachel," Quinn continued, "and ever since we kissed at the party Friday night, I can't stop thinking about it. But I have no idea what you're thinking … or if you were just drunk when you kissed me … and I'm scared … which is why Santana and Brittany are here, I guess."

Rachel's eyes never left Quinn's face as she listened to Quinn's ramble. "You're afraid of me?"

"No … yes … no … I don't know," Quinn stuttered. "I guess I'm afraid of putting my heart on the line and have you laugh at me."

"Do you really think I'm so petty?" Rachel sounded hurt.

"Rachel," Brittany said around a forkful of French toast, "I think she's scared because it's something that we would do. Sometimes it's hard to look past that." With that she went back to chewing and making appreciative noises that had Santana squirming in her seat.

"Okay, I can understand that," Rachel said. "But I'm not that kind of person."

"I know," Quinn said and Santana could read the hope in her eyes. Did I ever look that pathetic around Britt? She had a feeling that she had.

"Quinn," Rachel waited until Quinn was looking at her, "I like you, too. And you're a really great kisser." Quinn blushed three shades of red. "I really enjoyed kissing you, but I just broke up with Finn … and I don't really know what I want right now, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Rachel," Quinn whispered, and Santana's heart broke for her. "I had to try, you know?"

"Quinn, I'm not saying that there's nothing there." Rachel's voice was gentle, coaxing. "All I'm saying is that I liked kissing you and that I don't know what I want right now." She smiled gently. "That doesn't mean that don't want to spend time with you to find out what I want … and if I maybe like kissing you when I'm sober." She winked at Quinn.

"You want to spend time with me?" Quinn asked, just to make sure she heard right.

Rachel nodded.

"And you want to kiss me?"

"If that's okay with you, yes."

Quinn nodded a few times. "That's very okay with me, Rachel." She took Rachel's hand and gripped tightly. "Very, very okay."

Santana grinned broadly. "Now that we kicked that elephant successfully out of the room, can we finally start enjoying our brunch?"

That broke the last of the tension and all four of them laughed.

"So, Santana," Rachel said after the laughter had died down. "What did you have to do to get Brittany that French toast and was it worth it?"

Brittany groaned as she pierced the last piece with her fork. "So worth it, whatever she had to do," she practically groaned. "Total foodgasm, guys." She took the last piece and gave a low moan and rolled her eyes. Santana felt her whole body tighten at the sight and sound. So worth it. She swallowed, the sound harsh in her own ears. She couldn't believe that watching Brittany eat could have her this aroused in no time flat. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, unaware of the knowing glance Quinn gave her.

"Yeah, I'd say it was worth it," Quinn said with a small laugh. "Just look at her."

"At whom? Brittany or Santana?" Rachel apparently had gotten a little more confident in the last few minutes.

"Both of them." Quinn laughed, unfazed by the evil look Santana gave her. "Give up, Santana, everybody knows you're whipped."

"Looks good on you, too," Rachel added.

Santana glared at them both, but Brittany just mumbled, "I have to say I agree with both of them."

"Traitor," Santana murmured, not really mad. These were friends, after all. Well, friends and Rachel … "No more special breakfasts for you."

"I'm stuffed anyway," Brittany replied, not bothered in the slightest. She leaned closer to Santana. "Thank you, honey, that was wonderful."

"You're welcome," Santana mumbled.

"We still haven't heard how you got them to make that for Britt," Quinn reminded everyone. "Did you bat your eyelashes?"

Santana grinned. "Nah, I just went a little Lima Heights on them and threatened to come back with my gang tonight."

Both Quinn and Brittany laughed at that, but Rachel looked confused. "You actually threatened them? You have a gang?"

"Yeah," Santana replied dryly. "What did you expect, Rachel? You know me." There was an edge to her tone that had Brittany's protective instincts up in an instant, and even Quinn looked like she might have picked up on it.

Rachel was unaware, however. "Well, I think that it's very bad form to threaten people at their workplace just because Brittany wanted something else for breakfast. Santana, you can't go around doing that … you have to overcome your background and be a better person."

Brittany watched the emotions chase each other across Santana's face. She had forgotten that Rachel really knew nothing about Santana but always assumed the worst. She put her hand on Santana's thigh and felt how tense she was. "Rachel, stop," Brittany said when she couldn't bear the new tension any longer.

"What?" Rachel asked. "I'm only saying-"

Quinn interrupted her. "Really, Rachel, you need to stop now."

"Just because she's your friend doesn't mean-"

"Rachel, stop," Quinn said again, a little louder this time. "You have no idea what you're talking about, so please stop."

"I know you think you know everything about everyone, Berry, but in reality you really don't know the first thing about most of us." Santana's voice was controlled. She was really trying to hold back the anger she felt at Rachel's assumptions, partly because she had promised Quinn to be nice and partly because she knew deep down that the assumptions were her fault.

"Sometimes you think something about a person and that makes you really, really blind to who that person really is," Brittany said into the silence. Her hand was rubbing small circles on Santana's thigh. "Do you even realize how you usually treat Santana? Have you ever stopped to wonder that there might be a reason we don't … didn't like you?"

"Well, you've obviously always been jealous of my talent and drive—"

Brittany and Santana snorted derisively. "Yeah, that's totally it," Santana hissed.

"Santana," Quinn warned quietly. "You promised."

"I did," Santana answered calmly. "That's why I'm still sitting here and not outside in my car." She pointed towards the lot that was clearly visible from the table. "Tell me, Rachel, which of these cars do you think is mine?"

Rachel looked like a deer in the headlights. She clearly didn't want to say anything wrong. "Um, I don't know …" She looked at Quinn for help.

"Santana, do you really think this is a good idea?" Quinn asked.

"I don't know, Quinn." Santana sounded weary. "I'm just curious what your girlfriend there thinks. Don't you want to know?"

Quinn looked very unsure, but didn't say anything else.

"Guess, Rachel," Santana said again. "There aren't that many cars out there. Which one of the eight cars out there do you think is mine?"

Rachel's eyes wandered over the parking lot. There was a wide range of cars ranging from a beat-down Ford pick-up truck to a nice-sized, relatively new Lexus SUV. Santana watched Rachel closely, not really feeling all that bad about this impromptu interrogation and test. She had been deeply insulted that Rachel thought she would actually threaten restaurant staff. She could tell that Rachel was a little insecure now as she followed her eyes wander over the cars. She saw the moment Rachel dismissed the pick-up truck, probably as too poor or too manly or something like that, and the moment she didn't even give the Lexus a second glance. Too expensive, huh?

Finally Rachel's eyes seemed to settle on a non-descript Japanese car that seemed looked well used but respectable. The kind of car Finn might drive, Santana thought. "That one maybe?"

Even Quinn snorted now but she sent Rachel an apologetic look right after. "Nope, sorry," she said. "Santana wouldn't touch that car."

"Why did you think that might be it?" Brittany asked, her voice simply curious, not critical.

Rachel just shrugged and Santana could tell that she was beginning to feel really uncomfortable. And while one part of her enjoyed that immensely, that was not the point of their little outing this morning. "She picked that one because it was the safest choice," Santana explained to Brittany and Quinn. "I think we made it clear that the rust buckets would have been insulting to me and she's a little scared of me, and she didn't want to go top of the line because that doesn't compute with her view of me." She shrugged and snagged a piece of melon from her plate. "Correct?"

Rachel nodded reluctantly.

"Okay, let's stop this," Santana continued. "It was fun while it lasted but it's pointless." She looked at Rachel. "Stick around Quinn and you'll learn some things, about me and Britt and maybe about other people. And maybe, just maybe you'll learn not to judge people on the basis of your preconceptions."

Rachel looked like she wanted to say something but then changed her mind.

"What?" Santana asked, rolling her eyes.

"Just … okay, I get that you feel I insulted you somehow, but I really don't understand how." Rachel sounded bewildered. "I mean you always run around telling people you're from Lima Heights and alluding to a poor, terrible background. Why are you insulted when I think that's true?"

"I know what I've said and done, Rachel," Santana said quietly. "But you've known me … us … for three years now, and you still judge us on our reputation and what people say. Me included, I know."

Rachel looked thoughtful. "So you're saying that all three of you are not the people you let everyone think you are? And that I should forget everything about you and learn what I need to know from the source, so to speak?"

Santana nodded. "I'm impressed. There's hope for you yet, Rachel." She grinned. "I'm sorry if I scared you just now, but you really press my buttons sometimes."

"Oh no," Brittany exclaimed. "I'm the only one who's allowed to press your buttons, babe."

Santana burst out laughing. "So true, Britt. Okay, I promise you're the only one with access to those particular buttons."

Quinn cleared her throat. "I'm not sure we need to hear about your buttons over brunch and coffee, Santana."

Rachel giggled. "So, are you going to tell me which car is yours or do I have to wait until we leave to find out?"

Santana figured there was no point in making her wait as she was going to see the car later anyway. She simply pointed towards her car, enjoying the slack-jawed look on Rachel's face. Rachel looked to Quinn for confirmation and both Quinn and Brittany nodded.

"You drive a Lexus?" Rachel's eyes were wide again.

Santana shrugged. "And it's a hybrid, too," Brittany said with a smile and Santana could see the exact moment when Rachel was wondering what she had gotten herself into.

"But … Lima Heights … or Lima Heights Adjacent or whatever?" Rachel squeaked.

Quinn laughed gently. "Rachel, I doubt Santana's ever even been to Lima Heights, Adjacent or proper," she explained while Brittany and Santana watched. She shot Santana a look, asking for permission, and Santana nodded as she stood.

"I'm going to go grab some more food … you know in case there's nothing at home later," Santana said mockingly but with a wink and a grin. "Anyone want anything?" Three heads shook and Santana left.

Rachel focused on Quinn again. "Then why does she …?"

"Threatening to 'go all Lima Heights' is a lot more threatening than 'going all Fairview' on someone, Rachel," Quinn continued.

"Isn't Fairview where you live?"

"Yep, and Brittany, too," Quinn said. "But compared to Santana Brittany and I sort of come from the poor part of Fairview. Really," she added at the disbelieving look on Rachel's face.

"Is this the point where I should mention that Santana has a Steinway baby grand at home?" Brittany asked with a big smile.

Rachel still looked stunned when Santana returned to the table.

They talked about less aggravating topics and allowed Rachel to see them in their normal light for the rest of their brunch. The mood got more and more relaxed and by the time they decided to leave, Santana was actually feeling quite bad about how she had treated Rachel.

She let Brittany and Quinn walk ahead towards the parking lot and stopped Rachel with a hand on her arm. "Rachel, I'm sorry about earlier," she said earnestly. "I shouldn't have said and done that."

"It's okay, Santana," Rachel said with a small smile. "I can understand how my behavior must have felt for you. It's probably sort of how I felt for the past few years …"

"Ouch, touché." Santana felt really bad now. "I guess I'm really sorry for that as well. I know we're probably never going to be friends, but if you and Quinn start to date we're going to be spending time together, I guess … and I'd like it to be … less annoying."

"I'd like that, too," Rachel admitted. "I think we all have to learn a lot about each other, and I'd like for us to be friends."

"We'll see," Santana said with a smile. She started walking towards Quinn and Brittany. "Look, Quinn is worried that I'm threatening you again."

Rachel looked up at Quinn, who was wearing a worried expression on her face. Rachel smiled reassuringly and Santana watched as Quinn's whole body seemed to relax. "Listen Rachel," Santana said, making sure they were still out of earshot of Quinn and Brittany. "Don't hurt her. I'm not going to threaten you or anything, but she's been through a lot and she really, really likes you, so I'm asking you not to hurt her, okay?"

"I won't, Santana," Rachel said, her voice serious and determined. "I like her, too, and I want to see where this might be going. She really is an exceptional kisser …"

Santana laughed. "I wouldn't know, but I'll take your word for it."

They joined the other two girls. "What are you going to do now?" Brittany asked Quinn and Rachel.

"Um, not sure," Quinn replied. "I haven't made any plans … I was hoping to spend the day with you, getting to know you better, Rachel."

"I'd like that, Quinn." Rachel smiled and rocked on her heels a bit. "What about you two? Going home to the fabulous Lopez mansion?"

Santana's face clouded over and Brittany took her hand. "No," Brittany said, "we're going to my house. Santana is living with us at the moment."

Rachel gasped. "What happened?"

"Finn happened," Brittany answered for Santana. "When he outed her, it wasn't all sunshine and roses for Santana."

"Oh," Rachel sighed. "Your parents didn't take it too well? I'm sorry."

"No, no, my parents are great," Santana said quickly. "It's my grandmother … she refuses to be in the same house as me, so I moved in with Brittany until we find a solution."

"I'm so sorry," Rachel said. "That must be hard."

Santana smiled. "Thank you, Rachel, but getting to spend all my time with Brittany and torturing the little Irish guy in the process is really not a hardship."

"So that's why Rory is spending so much time at Finn's house," Rachel mused.

Brittany and Santana grinned. "Yep."

"I'm glad I broke up with Finn," Rachel said. "He never thinks about the consequences of his actions, and he's always convinced he's right. And when things go wrong, it's never his fault."

"Believe me, Rachel," Quinn muttered, "I'm really glad, too."

Santana watched with a smile as Quinn reached out and nervously took Rachel's hand. Then Brittany squeezed her hand and began to drag her towards the car.

Rachel and Quinn hardly even noticed them leaving.

TBC