"I'm here because you're my only way of getting home since we took your car," Quinn responded with a challenging glare. Santana leveled with her expressionally for a bit before responding.
"Fine. Can you give me some time with the midget? Our hotel is only a couple blocks from here- you can go back and change," Santana said, looking up and down at Quinn's outfit, clearly noticing that she was wearing Rachel's clothes.
Quinn studied Santana for a good while. Santana rolled her eyes. "Oh, piss off. I'm not gonna hurt her," Santana sighed.
"You better not," Quinn muttered before getting up from the table. She leaned over to whisper to Rachel to not worry and that she could leave if Santana was too awful. Rachel nodded and watched briefly as the blonde walked out of the coffee shop.
That left the two brunettes looking at each other.
"Why are you so awful?" Rachel spat. She understood Santana being protective of Quinn- who wouldn't be?- but Santana had no reason to view Rachel as a threat. She would never hurt Quinn and could specifically remember it being precisely the other way around- Quinn hurting her.
Santana didn't even blink, as if she'd been expecting that question. "This isn't a shed, so stop being a tool," she quipped. Rachel's mouth dropped open.
"What?" she asked before thinking.
"You're being a tool, hobbit. I'm the one who is supposed to be insulting you and calling you awful here," Santana replied, crossing her arms over her chest. Rachel's eyes widened in pure shock. Santana must have gone stark-raving nuts. Why had Quinn allowed Santana to have this talk one-on-one with her again? It seemed like, if anything, Quinn would have just told Santana off and reminded the fiery Latina that Rachel hadn't done anything wrong to deserve this sort of treatment.
"I should think not! You have been harassing me ever since you found out that I knew Quinn's place of business. It's been rude and completely unnecessary. I would understand a slight amount of protective measures, but you are instead attempting to control Quinn's life and who she decides to…" Rachel paused, deciding at the last moment to reword her sentence considering what Santana had said the last time she had called Quinn her friend. "associate with. And, quite frankly, I have had enough of your unending berating and insults. You and Quinn were both terrible to me in high school, but I had chosen to forgive you both for that. However, you, unlike Quinn, appear to have maintained the juvenile ways of attempting to bully me into submission. Well, guess what, Miss Lima Heights Adjacent? I am not intimidated by you anymore and refuse to give into your inane desires of control."
Rachel felt a sudden wave of relief as she finally spouted out her feelings about the crude and rude girl sitting across from her. She finally stood up to her with full capacity, finally telling her off the way she should have for years.
Santana retained the flames just behind her pupils. "I don't want to control Quinn, dumbass. She told me herself to stop her if she got too close to you," Santana replied in a harsh low voice.
At those words, Rachel felt a rush of cold air over the back of her neck almost like a chill going down her spine. "Wh-what?"
"Don't you remember, midget? The week after graduation?" Santana attempted to jog Rachel's memory. The singer's mind immediately flashed back to that time period, trying to place whatever the hell Santana was talking about. Then it came back to her- a week after graduation there had been a huge glee club party, including other invitees of people in the club, and they'd all gotten fairly drunk in celebration.
"The party, yes, I do remember that, but I fail to see what that has to do with Quinn and I, or your involvement," Rachel responded.
Santana sat back in her chair, tapping her fingers on the table. "You really don't remember? Wow, you really must be a lightweight then."
Rachel's brow furrowed, trying to recall any interactions from that night. It was all very hazy, one- because it was six years ago, and two- because she had consumed more alcohol that night than she ever had before and as a result lost most of her memory from that night.
"Damn. Why don't I refresh your memory?" Santana suggested. "I wasn't there for most of it, but Quinn told me all about it the next day."
FLASHBACK
Puck's house was like Sin City. Alcohol, sexual tension, poker games, and the prospect of drugs on the outskirts. There were bodies smashed up against each other in the living room, writhing along to the bass line of the records playing heavily. It was in the kitchen, however, that Quinn found Santana, who was standing next to Rachel.
"Quinnie! Midge is gettin' her drunk ooooon," Santana said with a whoop. Quinn laughed when she saw Rachel throwing back another shot. No one knew how many she'd taken, but it was enough that she was hanging onto the kitchen counter for support.
Rachel giggled when she saw Quinn. "You're even prettier when I'm drunk," Rachel slurred. Quinn gave her a soft smile. She had only had a couple of beers so far- not nearly enough to put her on the same level as Rachel.
"How'd you make this happen, San?" Quinn asked.
Santana laughed hard. "I challenged the lil hobbit to take some shots with me. Told her she couldn't keep up."
Quinn shook her head. Santana looked over at Rachel to see that she was now clutching her stomach. "Uh oh, puke time? Imma so be outta here," Santana mumbled, grabbing a bottle of beer and exiting the kitchen to find Brittany.
Quinn looked at Rachel's obvious signs of vomiting being in the near future and grabbed her arm. "Let's get you to a bathroom upstairs," Quinn said, leading the shorter girl through the mass of dancing bodies and helping her stumble up the stairs. She took her into Puck's parents' room and closed the door behind them so no one would interrupt before helping Rachel into the master bathroom and lifting the toilet seat.
True to form, Rachel worshipped the porcelain god a few times while Quinn held her hair back. Rachel mumbled in between sessions something about wanting to say something. Finally, when it seemed that Rachel had prayed her last to the toilet, Quinn passed her a paper towel to wipe her face and a cup of water. Rachel muttered a thank you and utilized both objects.
"Why're you up here?" she asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.
"Because I didn't want you upchucking in Puck's kitchen," Quinn stated.
"No, that's why'm up here. Not you," Rachel disagreed. Quinn got quiet.
"I'm up here with you because there's nothing worse than throwing up alone in a bathroom that's not yours at a party that most of the people there have at one point hated you," Quinn answered honestly.
Rachel leaned back against the shower wall for support. "Why didja all hate me? I… just wanted… friends."
Quinn gave Rachel a pained expression. "We hated you because you were getting out, you were going to be famous, and the rest of us were probably just going to stay in the same boring lives forever."
"And you, you gave me train tickets," Rachel pointed out. Quinn got a little bit hopeful at this point that Rachel was going to point out that she was trying to make amends. "But I'll never use 'em. Because you're the worst. I… I was always nice to you. I always gave you second chances. And thirds. And twentieths. But you still were terrible, and for no reason."
And Quinn's hopes were crushed; she cringed from the truth of what Rachel was saying. The part that hurt the worst was that Rachel said that she would never use the train tickets, and not because she'd spent a lot of money on them, but because that meant that she wouldn't get to see her.
"I'm sorry, Rachel. I know I was awful and I know there's no way that I can make up for that, at least not any time soon," Quinn whispered. "But let's get you into a bed. You looked exhausted."
Rachel didn't protest as Quinn hoisted her up off the bathroom floor and eased her into the bed.
"Goodnight, Rachel," Quinn said quietly, brushing stray hairs from the brunette's face.
But Rachel grabbed her hand. "I will never forgive you. Not really. I might say that I do, but I will never be able to trust you. I'll always remember you as the person who brought me down more times than I could count, but I won because I got back up every time. So thanks for that. I might even mention your name in my speech when I get awards as my biggest struggle," Rachel said soberly. Quinn was in a stunned silence. She had never heard Rachel speak to her so harshly, not even in their many requited fights.
With tears in her eyes, Quinn whispered a goodnight and watched as Rachel promptly fell fast asleep.
END FLASHBACK
Rachel felt the sting of tears by the time Santana had finished quoting the last of Rachel's terrible words to Quinn. She did not remember any of that exchange at all and almost wished she hadn't been told.
"I… I can't believe I said all of those awful things to her," Rachel stumbled, forcibly stopping herself from crying. Santana nodded.
"Quinn always took a lot away from whatever you said, even if she didn't seem like it. She went to Yale because you told her she should. She continued acting once she was there because of you. And she believed that she was unforgiveable because you told her she was," Santana said, her words actually softening at this point.
"And so she told you to stop her from talking to me ever again because I would only hurt her again," Rachel summarized. Santana nodded once in confirmation.
"Look, I know that Q and I hurt you a lot in high school, but it wasn't always one-sided. If you decide to try to work out your shit with her, it'll be a two-way street. It's not just you getting over her hurting you, because Q's got a fragile heart and you managed to put one huge-ass crack in it that night," Santana pointed out.
Rachel could not swallow the lump that had just developed in her throat. She had caused Quinn pain beyond what she'd imagined she was capable of. True, Quinn had always hurt her, but Rachel had always prided herself on not retaliating at the same level. But no, she had.
"That's why I've been a class A bitch to you, well besides the fact that I always am anyway," Santana explained.
"I can not particularly blame you. But I really would like to repair things with Quinn. I always did want to be her friend, you know, but now I really want to try for real," Rachel said. Santana smiled.
"Good, because it can be exhausting coming up with all of these awesome bitchy quips to use on you, you know," Santana snarked. Rachel laughed at that- the idea of Santana not quipping things at her constantly.
"You know, I would also not mind befriending you, Santana. We could talk about you and Brittany, if you'd like," Rachel offered.
Santana gave her a killer glare, making Rachel realize that was exactly the wrong thing to say.
"I hope you know constantly putting your foot in your mouth makes it really hard for anyone to actually listen to you," Santana growled. Rachel shut her mouth tightly.
"Sorry," she replied with her head bowed slightly. She really had been putting her foot in her mouth a lot recently.
"Good. Now, I don't know how much Quinn has told you about her past, but I know that she's yet to tell you some of the big details. Don't press her, but she probably will at some point, so if she does, you'd better be there for her one hundred percent when she starts talking about it. Okay?" Santana had that intimidating look on her face again.
"I promise," Rachel vowed. "You know, you sound partly like an overprotective father when a boy comes to take his daughter away for the first time," Rachel noticed with a small smile.
"God, Berry, you're difficult," Santana groaned.
"And you're not?" Rachel fired back.
"Hey, I'm only difficult until you give up hoping that I'm not always right," Santana said proudly.
Rachel walked with Santana back to her hotel. Santana stopped her just before entering with her hand on the doorknob.
"I don't care if you tell Quinn everything that I told you, just don't press her to give her point of view, because I will still ends you if you make her cry," Santana said, only half-serious with her threat this time. Rachel smiled and nodded, which was the cue for Santana to open up the door to the hotel revealing an anxious Quinn sitting on the couch.
"Thank God the two of you didn't kill each other," Quinn let out as a sigh of relief.
Santana smirked. "I couldn't kill her. That would be like killing a puppy- it's not even a challenge and it would just make me feel sad inside," she replied to her worried friend.
"You know, that could almost be construed as you calling me cute, Santana," Rachel pointed out. Santana just walked past the singer to get to the hotel's small kitchen area, flipping Rachel off behind her back.
Quinn smiled at her best friend's antics and turned to Rachel. "I want to apologize for any horribly offensive things she said during your little chat."
Rachel shrugged, taking a seat on the couch next to Quinn. "She called me a puppy, but she's really the dog out of all of us- your guard dog."
Quinn snickered at that. Santana returned from the kitchenette to announce that she had to go to the second half of her conference for the day and yelled from the hotel hallway that the two of them had better behave while she was gone. Quinn responded by yelling back that she was going to have a party with lots of drugs, alcohol, and boys.
"Well, now I know you're lying. You think boys have cooties," Santana yelled, still in the hallway with the room door wide open so the two could communicate. Rachel wondered idly what the people in neighboring rooms thought of this conversation.
Finally, Santana shut the door and was on her merry way to her medical conference. That left Quinn and Rachel alone- something that Rachel realized with a little bit of a flutter in her chest. The blonde woman managed to make her all sorts of happy even when the two of them were fighting. She had this epiphany the night before- even though the two of them had problems just about every time they were near each other, Rachel found that she had become a happier person ever since Quinn Fabray had reentered her life.
It was during these musings that Rachel found Quinn poking her in the side to bring her back to reality.
"Hey, you alright there?" Quinn asked lightly. Rachel gave her a quick grin to reassure her.
"I am, actually. I was just taking stock of my life and realizing that ever since Finn's wedding day my life has been looking up," Rachel answered with complete unexpected honesty. "It's funny because, as a younger and more idealistic woman, I envisioned the day I married Finn as the beginning of the best time of my life. But part of that is apparently unfolding to be correct; the day of Finn's wedding, albeit not to me, has opened up new unexpected, but yet encouraging, parts of my life."
Quinn met her eyes with an intense look that Rachel did not quite understand. She mentally went back through her statement, looking for any key words that might have provoked such a heated expression from the blonde. She couldn't find anything, especially since she was not certain if Quinn was upset or pleased. The girl had always been a puzzle wrapped in an enigma with a cool exterior of beauty.
Perhaps realizing that she had been staring, Quinn cleared her throat. "Right. Well, I'm glad that things are working out for you. I mean, look at you, networking with some of the rising names in Broadway and befriending the infamous Madame Rhonda? I'd count that as looking up. But why do you count the reception as the beginning?"
Rachel grinned, realizing that Quinn either had no idea or was fishing for compliments. "Well, it was that night that I finally reached beyond myself and reconnected with three important people that all, in their own way, have contributed to my success." Quinn's face scrunched up in confusion, so Rachel continued. "First was you, before the wedding, then Santana at the reception and then Brittany afterward. Without Brittany, I probably would not have a lunch date with Madame Rhonda. Without Santana, I would not have ever been able to steal your phone number from her to contact you again. And finally, meeting up with you again has given me the confidence I needed to pursue my dreams again."
Rachel's heart sped up a little at just how honest she was being here. It was thrilling and just a little bit terrifying that she was spilling her recent life story to Quinn. It would have been bad enough if it was anyone besides Kurt or Michael, but it was this fascinating girl that she couldn't help but want to impress. Quinn had that effect on people, Rachel supposed. She could turn every head in a room whether she was the head cheerleader, pregnant, a pink-haired punk, or a seemingly-nobody stripper. She had that sort of natural charisma that she wasn't even always aware of. She could paint the stars in the sky.
Quinn slipped he hands into Rachel's. "It's all I've ever wanted, you know, to force you to go after your dreams," Quinn confessed, biting her lip.
If Rachel thought her heart was racing before, it was now racing. Quinn's hands were soft and delicate. Santana really did have the right idea- Quinn should be protected. Rachel wondered how though, because she was still the strongest person she'd ever met.
"I know," Rachel admitted. She remembered Quinn's explanation about pushing Rachel to get out of Lima by bullying her repetitively, even if she didn't agree with the methods. And she knew Quinn regretted it immensely, so she did not feel the need to dig the knife in any further by protesting again.
Quinn, noticing that the air had gone heavy from the depth of the talk they were having decided to lighten the mood. "So, tell me about Kurt's reactions when you told him about your lunch date with Madame Rhonda."
The two talked for a while after that about general events in their lives, keeping it light. Their conversations of late had a lot of heavy emotional content, and the two young women were enjoying a chance to just be… friends.
It was about ten minutes later that Quinn remembered to remove her hands from Rachel's.
A/N: I know that I have been using flashbacks a lot, but I find that it's the best way to bridge the gaps between high school and six years later, where this story is set. There will be at least one more used in this story, but if you don't like the flashback format, let me know, and I'll scrap the others that I have planned.
I hope this chapter helped explain why Santana's being extra-bitchy. I know some of you have been annoyed by it, as you should have been since that was intended, but there is a point behind her actions. She knows a lot about Quinn, remember that too.
Next chapter sees Quinn and Santana's (very temporary) departure as well as Rachel making some possible realizations. Review if you love Faberry!
