*0*0*
Fifty Words for Forgiveness
*0*0*
Actions Speak Louder Than Words
*0*0*
Entering the living room, you saw the three girls standing around, Quinn having just entered the mix, and raised your eyebrows in question when Brittany caught your eye. There was still a weird atmosphere among the lot of you, and you knew it was going to be around for a while.
"Rachel and I have picked Taboo," Brittany said, pulling out the box from the living room game cupboard. "It's a team game, and I think it's only fair we pick names out a hat."
You frowned at their choice and the need to pick names out a hat, but weren't going to argue. There had already been enough arguments that evening. With that decision made, Brittany went to get pen and paper for the names, while Rachel began setting things up.
Looking at Quinn, you watched as she took a seat in the armchair, close enough to be involved but segregated enough to keep herself to herself. She was clearly still hurting from everything that had gone down that evening, and you fought off the feeling of guilt. She had brought a lot of it on herself by pushing with Rachel, and excuses could no longer be made for her behaviour.
Helping Rachel set up the game on the coffee table, you sat down on the floor next to her, both leaning back against the couch. You could see Quinn watching the two of you, a slight worry line forming, before she looked out the window. Rachel had seen it too, and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. Where the hell was Brittany when you needed her?
The silence was growing, and you could feel the tension in the air. Despite not knowing what the two of them had said to each other after you had stopped eavesdropping, you were sure it had been a tense trading of words with no resolution. As always, you were caught in the middle, and every move you made was being scrutinised by Quinn, or second guessed by Rachel.
It was tiring, and a part of you wondered how long you needed to stick around before you could fake being tired and head to bed. You didn't want to ditch on Brittany, but this was meant to be a relaxing night, and it was turning out to be nothing of the sort, for anyone involved.
With the sound of Brittany heading back towards the living room, you pushed those thoughts away and decided just to go with the flow for now. You had to make the best of this situation, even if it wasn't to your liking.
"So, who wants to pick?" Brittany asked, holding the winter woolly hat in one hand. "Only one of us can pick, since it'll be two teams of two and there are four of us." Looking between everyone, Brittany waited for a response before playfully rolling her eyes. "It's sweet that all of you are letting me pick. Thanks guys," she said, reaching in the hat and rustling the sheets about.
As if realising the power Brittany held as she rustled the pieces of paper, all of you suddenly took interest in what was going on. You watched with a smile, trying to mask the nerves peaking beneath the surface. You weren't the only one. Rachel was biting her lip, and Quinn's eyes were glued to Brittany's hand. She was inadvertently going to decide who ended up with whom.
"Santana!" Brittany cried, showing the paper to everyone.
"Wait, what?" Rachel asked, shooting a questioning look at Brittany and then looking at the piece of paper again. Quinn was doing something similar, her mouth open, ready to protest.
"You and Quinn are on the same team. It's great! You guys can bond and get to know each other better. You don't even need to worry about winning, because Santana is ace at this," Brittany explained, putting the piece of paper back in the hat and taking it out into the hallway.
"Is she really?" Quinn drawled, raising her eyebrow at you. You swallowed nervously under her gaze, wondering why it sounded like you'd done something wrong.
"Yep!" Brittany was still oblivious to the looks you were receiving. "She holds the record of most correct answers in the time limit. It took her three years to get it, as the previous record holder was Lord Tubbington, and I think he cheated. Santana didn't though."
No, you hadn't cheated, but looking at the faces of the blonde and brunette across from you, you wished you had. You knew right then they were going to try and annihilate your record, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. If anything would bring the two of them together, it was bound to be their competitive nature.
"Well, I'm sure Quinn and I can give you a run for your money," Rachel said, nodding her head. You shot her an 'as if' smile, and she frowned, unimpressed with you.
"Let's make this more interesting," Quinn said, moving close to inspect the rules.
"And how do you suggest we do that?" Rachel asked, turning to the blonde curiously.
They were talking to each other, actually talking, not yelling. You were holding your breath, too scared to move in case it ended. This was a tiny breakthrough, and you were not going to risk ruining it by breathing.
"Alcohol."
"You wish to add alcohol into the mix?" Rachel questioned, a little startled.
"What's that meant to mean?" Quinn narrowed her eyes, and you almost whimpered. They had been talking, all had been going well, you hadn't even moved, why was it now going wrong?
"I just am surprised you would want to, given your past experiences with it." Rachel shrugged and looked away, while your eyes flew back to Quinn to see her reaction.
"Well, unless one of you is hiding a penis I don't know about, I don't think I'll have to worry about getting knocked up tonight." Quinn raised one of her eyebrows in challenge, and Rachel narrowed her eyes in return.
It was tense again, the moment hadn't lasted. They were both testing the other, Rachel just daring Quinn to call her something offensive in regards to her gender, and Quinn taunting Rachel to call her out on it.
"I think alcohol would be a great idea!" Brittany said, dragging you by the arm towards to the study.
You went willingly and helped her carry the bottles back through. On return, you saw Rachel and Quinn sitting opposite each other, ready and waiting to play. There was no blood on the carpet, no obvious signs of violence, but it felt like you'd just walked in during the middle of a fight.
Brittany flitted past you and handed out shot glasses and took a seat next to Rachel. She pulled her body closer, wrapping her arm over Rachel's shoulders all the while using her free hand to pour the drinks.
Sitting down next to Quinn, you placed the bottles to the side and gave her a smile. It was a slightly nervous smile, as you were anxious about being that close to her again after everything so far that evening, but she returned it.
The sadness you saw in her eyes in the kitchen was still there, buried beneath the surface, but she also looked hopeful, and in turn, that gave you hope. Maybe things weren't going to be so bad.
"Okay, every time you get one wrong, you take a shot, every time you pass, you take a shot, and if you get it right, no shots for you. We'll tally after each go to see how many you need to drink. Agreed?" Brittany asked, looking round everyone.
There were no disagreements, and with that, the game was on its way.
*0*0*
All of you drinking together might have seemed like a smart way to ease the tension, but it was slowly turning into the worst idea ever. For starters, Rachel was a total lightweight, and adorable as fuck all tipsy. Then there was Brittany, who actually didn't seem inebriated at all. Quinn was chilled out, her defences down, those hazel eyes burning you every time you caught her looking at you, and it was driving you wild.
With all that going on around you, there was no way anyone could expect you to be in control of the emotions bubbling up beneath the surface. You weren't crying, thank fuck, but you knew if Rachel and Quinn started fighting again, you would not be able to handle it. You'd snap, you're probably say things you'd regret, and there would be no way to keep your eavesdropping to yourself.
Brittany seemed to be taking care of that, however, as she was constantly entertaining one of them in conversation. The game itself had been abandoned after it was clear Brittany and you were destroying them. Quinn and Rachel had put some good effort into it, but Brittany and yourself had mastered how to read each other properly years ago.
A rematch had been demanded by Rachel to take place at a later date after thorough training, and surprisingly, Quinn was all for it. That night was just going to be hell, you knew it.
However, the situation at hand was more pressing.
Rachel and Brittany was having a very detailed conversation about Lord Tubbington's upbringing, and you knew Rachel was trying to assess the situation to see if he really could be deaf. That meant Quinn and you were sitting staring either into space or at each other.
Each other was the more popular option.
Watching Quinn lick her lips once again, you were mesmerised. Whether she was meaning to or not, she was bewitching you with her gaze, and giving your flashbacks of Friday nights spent kissing those lips, watching those eyes turn heady with lust, and listen to her pant and whine in your ear.
You needed to clear your head. The booze had made it fuzzy, had made things complicated, and you couldn't think properly. She was your kryptonite, your weakness, and right then, you needed to remind yourself that she was off limits. She was your friend.
Excusing yourself to get a glass of water, you headed back to the kitchen. The sound of footsteps behind you shouldn't have been surprising. You should have known she would follow. To actually have her following you for a change, brought a smile to your face, but it was short lived.
With your back to the door, you stood at the sink, glass in hand, and your other hand on the tap. Her footsteps grew nearer, and you placed the glass down, not wanting to drop it if she did in fact do what you suspected she would. It didn't take long for your suspicions to come true.
Feeling her stand behind you, you felt her hands land on your hips at the same time her lips were on your neck. She was licking at your skin, kissing it softly, as she worked her way up to your jaw. You were powerless, those hands caressing your skin, as if trying to memorise the feel of your body beneath her hands, and those lips devouring your neck.
"Friends," you croaked, dropping your head forward as her hands crossed over your abdomen and ran up your thighs. You needed to hold onto that last shred of dignity. You needed to at least pretend to be against this.
"This is just a friendly reminder of what we're missing out on," Quinn husked, her nails scraping against your skin as they ran upwards, pulling your dress up with them.
"What you're missing out on," you replied, shaking your head. "You could have me if you wanted."
"I do, I do want you." Ugh, if that didn't make you feel alive, just hearing it; but there was so much more to everything than that.
Her lips reattached themselves to your neck, and she swiped her tongue over your skin a few times before sucking harshly, marking you, making you moan in shock. Fuck.
"Not enough," you groaned, trying to find the willpower to step away from her. "You get off on it being a secret, of keeping your dirty deeds from the world." Her lips pulled away from your neck, and you felt her breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
"And you don't get off knowing you can have me begging on my hands and knees; me, the perfect little Christian." The mental image, the memories, the nights spent with her doing just that, flashed behind your eyelids as you swallowed nervously.
"I do, fuck do I ever. But do you know what I'd get off to even more?"
"What?" She sounded genuinely interested, but you knew that wasn't going to last.
"Having that perfect, little, Christian treat me as her equal, her girlfriend, and not just a dirty little secret she screws behind closed doors." As if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her, Quinn's hands stopped moving, and her whole body stilled behind you.
"We're friends. We are equal." The huskiness and breathy tone she was using previously was gone, and she sounded scared, unsure, as she spoke.
"I thought so, too, but yet here you are, hands up dress and lips on my skin. What's equal about that? Where's my respect? You know I want you, you know I love you, and yet you don't respect the one boundary I have."
Quinn remained speechless, as if frozen in that moment, realising what exactly she was doing, what pain she might be causing you. You ploughed on, needing to get this out, needing to draw the lines that had been ignored for so long.
Turning in her arms, you leant back against the sink and took her in. She looked like a dear in headlights, ready to make a break for it at any moment. Before she could do that, you wanted to finish, you wanted to talk to her about this.
"I get it, you're losing control. I can see it in your eyes," you said quietly, not needing to add volume to your voice as your words did that on their own.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Quinn replied, those beautiful hazels startled and strained. You were hitting a nerve, one she wasn't prepared for.
"Yes, I do. It's amazing what someone does when they think they're losing a game they used to play."
Quinn took a step back, suddenly. Her mouth opened and you expected her to yell or shout, but instead, she shook her head, her brow furrowed, and tried to catch the breath you'd just knocked out of her from that last statement.
"Losing? Losing what?" she asked, sounding sad and tired.
"Me. Rachel's a threat, and by coming in here, kissing me, marking my skin, you're laying claim; claim you no longer have anymore."
"I thought you said she meant nothing." The fear flashing in her eyes again made your chest ache, but it was time for a proper reality check.
"She's my best friend, that doesn't mean she's nothing to me. She's a loyal, trust worthy, honest friend who respects my boundaries and choices."
"I can try- I will-" Quinn said quickly, her hands up in defeat, shaking her head as she spoke, no doubt fearing the worst from this conversation. You held up your hand to stop her, cutting her short and took a moment to recollect your thoughts.
"Something I've learnt recently, actions do speak louder than words. Maybe you should give that some thought."
Quinn nodded once, solemnly, and ran a hand through her hair.
"Don't make me regret this, please," you begged, hoping she'd pull herself together soon. There was only so much heartache you could take.
Those hazels you had been desperately hoping to see avoided you in shame, and she nodded again, this time not attempting to stop the tears forming. It was time for you to take your leave, but you couldn't go without showing her you still cared, you still wanted her, despite all the fights and arguments.
Stepping closer, you wrapped your hands around her, hugging her, and took a second to breathe her in. She still had it, the power to stop your heart and make you feel invincible. She didn't even have to hug you back to make you feel amazing. Feeling her head drop onto your shoulder, her hands grasping at the fabric of your dress in desperation, made you embrace her a little tighter.
She was falling to pieces, fraying at the seams, and knowing Quinn as well as you did, it was unlikely that she was letting anyone in to help her. The girl liked to bury her problems deep, something you knew so well, and this was it clearly rearing its ugly head.
It only lasted a few moments before she took a shaky breath and pulled herself away from you, heading to the sink to splash water on her face. She obviously must have realised she was showing too many emotions and decided to shut it down. Pity.
Walking away, you headed back to the living room where Brittany was having a thorough discussion with Lord Tubbington, who looked pissed off and grumpy. Knowing better than to get near him when he was in one of his moods, you stuck close to the door.
"There you are!" Rachel cried, jumping up off the ground and skidding over to you. Her socks were slipping on the hardwood floors, and you knew at some point she was going to end up on her ass. It was your job now to ensure that she didn't do too much damage to herself.
"You okay?" she asked, wrapping her arms round your waist. Narrowing her eyes at your neck, Rachel leant backwards, her hands staying in place, and glanced up to look at you properly. "Did you just have sex with Quinn? I thought you two were trying to be friends."
Rolling your eyes, you fought a smile at how adorable she was being and shook your head. "Trying being the operative word, Rach."
"Eww." Untangling herself, Rachel took a step back, her nose crinkled in distaste.
"We didn't have sex," you pointed out, reaching out and pulling her back to you. Her socks aided your efforts and against her wishes, she was dragged back, pouting the entire time.
"That hickey says otherwise," she pointed out, literally pointing as she did so.
"We didn't have sex, we just…kissed a bit, I guess."
"Promise you didn't have sex?" She was looking at you with such distress, as if you'd just told her you might have shot Bambi's mother or something equally horrific.
"I promise." She thought it over for a second before grinning brightly, giving you her show smile.
"Good! Now, I think Lord Tubbington has a crush on me. I used my extensive sign language knowledge to talk to him earlier, and now he won't stop staring at me," Rachel said, nuzzling into your shoulder, all previous talk forgotten.
Thinking back on how much she had drunk that evening, you looked back at Lord T and was surprised to find him actually staring in your direction. To test Rachel's theory, which she was still yammering on about, you dragged her body with yours across the room, and Lord Tubbington's gaze followed.
Creepy little bastard.
"Make sure he doesn't follow you home," you said quietly, hoping Rachel would take your suggestion seriously. From the grin you received, you were sure she did.
At that point, Quinn breezed into the room, and you were relieved to see she didn't give Rachel and you a second look. She was either pretending you two weren't all over each other or was actually trying to be respectful to your friendship. You hoped for the latter.
As if seeing everyone back together, Brittany bounced off the floor and sprung over to the movie cupboard. Within seconds, she had a selection in her hand and had turned back to everyone.
"Movie time!" she called, waving the Disney movies about.
"Oh! Oh! Yes, let's do that!" Rachel cried, fist pumping the air. You snorted and shook your head, vowing to get her drinking again, before moving the two of you to the couch.
Depositing her in the middle, you climbed on the end and was then pleasantly surprised as she cozied up to you, silently asking with her eyes if it was okay. You gave her a soft smile and a nod, opening your arms for her to crawl into further, and then settled in as Brittany worked the DVD player.
Quinn dimmed the lights, like you normally did, and then sat back in the armchair, while Brittany pounced onto the other couch, kicking her legs out while the menu came up on screen. Lying there, it almost felt normal, as if things hadn't been tense and crazy before, and that thought had you smiling again.
This, this felt more like the relaxing night you had hoped for.
*0*0*
Once the movie was finished, it was decided that it would be best for everyone to get some sleep. Quinn had been falling asleep throughout, and went up to bed on autopilot, waving half-heartedly as she did so. Rachel was also sleepy, but was being stubborn about it.
"I feel like we should stay awake, the night is too young! Let's build a fort! Oh that's a great idea, Rachel. We can camp out!" You knew it was way past her bedtime when she started referring to herself in the third person.
"We can do that another night. Right now, it's bedtime." You wrapped your arms round her waist and hoisted her off the couch, very thankful of her small stature.
"But I'm not tired!" she protested, shaking her head.
It would have been convincing if her eyes had been open when she'd said it. As they were not, you knew she was lying her tipsy little arse off, and had no qualms about dragging her across the room towards the stairs.
Helping her up the stairs was no easy feat, however. There were countless stops and starts as she attempted to re-enact the Von Trapp family's song and dance they did on the stairs in the Sound of Music. You only managed to get her upstairs after promising to let her perform the whole routine at some point in the future.
Lucky you.
Using the hardwood floors as an advantage again, you dragged her body in your arms across the floor and into the spare bedroom, where the carpet suddenly slowed you down. Rachel continued to yap in your ear about proper handling techniques, but really, she was lucky you hadn't pushed her ass down the stairs by now. How you hadn't lost it at So Long, Farewell was beyond you.
Thankfully, the spare bedroom was empty when you entered. It just felt safer keeping her and Quinn in separate rooms for the night. God only knows what they might do to each other while the other one slept. With Rachel flouncing into bed, suddenly admitting defeat once she felt the bed beneath her, you wrapped her up in the covers and vowed you would be back soon.
Downstairs, you could hear Brittany cleaning up, and went to help. Throughout the movie, you had been drinking water to try and flush the alcohol out your system, and it had worked, which meant you were perfectly capable of lending a hand.
If you weren't convinced Rachel wouldn't have burst into song, you would have made her help, too, but that was not a risk you wanted to take. If the stairs brought out The Sound of Music, God only knows what she'd come out with while cleaning. Suddenly the mental image of Queen popped in your head, and you shuddered at the thought.
At the bottom of the stairs, you glanced to your left, into the kitchen and surveyed the mess there. It wasn't bad, but there might be more dishes in the living room. Turning to see, your eye caught something else first.
Seeing the hat from earlier on the entryway table, you picked it up to put it back in the hall closet. Hearing it rustle, you reached in and pulled out the bits of paper to put in the bin. The three pieces of paper were unfolding in your hand, and you frowned upon reading your name on two of them. Opening them all out, they all read your name.
Brittany hadn't put anyone else's name in the hat.
Shaking your head, you couldn't fight back the smile on your lips. She knew all of you better than you knew yourselves, and this was just another example of that.
Of course, Brittany knew you would never pick a name out, because that would mean choosing. The last thing you wanted to do was make it seem like you were picking sides, especially when it came to Rachel and Quinn. While you were prepared to make the hard decision and firmly say you would be friends with Rachel over Quinn if she didn't clean up her behaviour towards the other girl, you never wanted to actually test that theory.
Rachel and Quinn weren't going to take the risk of picking a name out, just in case they had chosen each other. As hard as they might try, or rather as hard as Rachel would have tried, they wouldn't have been able to hide their disappointment if they had selected each other. Therefore, it would only have caused problems if they had picked.
Brittany knew this, she knew what you all would do, defer and make her do it. She managed to take the stress off you, making sure you weren't picking between your best friend and the girl you're in love with. She made sure you were able to have an easier night, relaxing and goofing off with her, without second-guessing your every move and action with one of the others.
God, she was a fucking genius.
Turning, you sought her out in the living room and caught her eye. "I love you," you mouthed, holding the pieces of paper in your hand as she danced about, cleaning up. Brittany giggled and rolled her eyes, swishing her hips to the beat of the song as she gathered up the mess that was left behind.
Only when the place was back to being spick and span did the two of you head on upstairs. Brittany gave you a one armed hug and kissed your cheek, biding you goodnight as she entered her bedroom. She didn't even need to be told where you were sleeping, as if she knew already, and you smiled to yourself as you headed to bed.
Tonight, despite how it had started, was actually awesome, and it felt great to be back amongst friends again. You had missed this, and as you entered the spare bedroom, releasing a contented sigh as you did so, the sight of Lord Tubbington creepily staring at Rachel from the bedside table wasn't even enough to ruin it for you.
*0*0*
With the success of Brittany's sleepover, you entered the following week with a spring in your step and a smile on your face. All hope was not lost, and progress was still being made. Yes, it hadn't been all smooth sailing, but you had made it through the storm in one piece and were proud to have done so.
Or rather, as close as one can be in one piece with a damn hickey on their neck.
Quinn had certainly made her claim clear, and Rachel kept grimacing at it every time she caught sight of the bruised skin. If that had been Quinn's intention, it was working. You wanted to seek her out and scold her again for that childish move, but knew if the roles had been reversed, you probably would have done the same thing. In fact, you distinctly remember doing exactly this.
"I brought you this," Rachel declared, standing by your locker on the Tuesday morning as you gathered your books.
"What is it?" you asked, not having looked over to see for yourself.
"Proper stage makeup to cover that heinous mark on your neck. She may as well have urinated on you." Chuckling at her disgusted tone, you closed your locker and thanked her for the makeup, putting it in your bag.
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do as within seconds Rachel was marching you to the bathroom to apply it immediately. God, she was feisty in the mornings.
Ten minutes later, after washing off your poor attempt at covering it up, and then applying the makeup incorrectly, three times, Rachel took over and had you hickey free in seconds. You couldn't help but wonder how many times she had used this to cover her own up, as she was definitely a pro at it, and you knew you'd need to enquire at a later date.
"Thank you for humouring me, Santana," Rachel said, washing her hands afterwards. "I very much appreciate it." She gave you a thankful smile, and your chest ached at all the reasons she could be thanking you for. God only knows how hard it could be for her to see you marked by a girl who kept breaking your heart. As if her mind was at the same place, Rachel cleared her throat and then started a fresh topic. "Now, shall I see you at lunch? I do believe Brittany will be joining us in the auditorium today."
"Yeah, I'll be there. And thanks," you said, pointing at your neck.
She had actually done you a favour, as you were gaining quite a few looks. Jew-Fro's blog already had a poll running to guess who had given it to you. Surprisingly, Rachel seemed to be winning, last time you checked, and you really hoped Quinn wasn't going to look on their anytime soon.
Hell, you silently prayed Rachel didn't check either, because that would be like a punch to the gut.
Regardless, it seemed the students of McKinley weren't as blind as you had thought. Your friendship with Rachel had clearly caught some interest, and yet there hadn't been any fallout from it, or at least you weren't aware of any. This was good news, great news, and maybe people were becoming more tolerant.
Feeling a little better about that, Rachel and you headed off to your classes for the morning, and as the students watched the two of you move through the halls, you actually didn't detect a hint of animosity directed your way.
Whether it was the Cheerio armour protecting the two of you, or whether minds had begun changing, you were happy to accept the difference with caution. If only Quinn could see that things weren't as bad as what they used to be.
Sighing, you let that thought fly away and went back to blissful ignorance.
You remained like that right up until lunch, where you retreated to the safety of the auditorium, and let down your masks. Everyone else needed to see you as untouchable, a force to be reckoned with, but you were happy to leave that at the door as you goofed off with Brittany and Rachel seven rows up from the stage.
It seemed that Rachel had in fact remembered her tipsy Von Trapp performance, which you had interrupted, and she was trying to plot a way with Brittany to get you to sit through the whole thing this time. Whatever.
Bickering with her over what date was suitable, and no, you were not going to her house because her fathers hated you, had you distracted that you completely missed the sound of the auditorium door opening and closing.
It wasn't until Brittany spoke that you realised someone else was present, and you were shocked to see who it was.
"Hey, Quinn," Brittany chimed, causing Rachel and you to look up the row.
Quinn was standing in her Cheerios uniform, but with her hair down, ruffled over her shoulders. She was anxiously rubbing her hands together and biting her lip, eyeing the three of you. Like always when it came to Quinn, you wanted to comfort her, protect her from whatever had her so anxious, but this time you shut it down. You needed to take a step back. You had been putting all your eggs in one basket, and you didn't even know if it would work out.
"Hey," Quinn said, giving a poorly convincing smile, before looking past Brittany. "Um, Rachel, can I speak to you for a moment?" That question took Rachel and you by surprise, as Brittany seemed to know everything anyway, and you both turned to each other.
You shot her a questioning look but Rachel shrugged, clearly having no idea what this was about, too. She turned back to Quinn and rose from her chair, her food in hand.
"Oh, eh, sure, Quinn." You couldn't see it, but you were sure Rachel was giving Quinn a fake show smile. There was no way she wanted to talk to her.
"Wait, you don't have to-" you began to say, fully prepared to put a stop to this. You shot a frown at Quinn, wondering about her motives, but Rachel was waving you off with her free hand.
"Relax, I'll be fine," she said, leaning down to put her bag on the chair and put her food away. She gave you a reassuring smile and then handed over her fruit pot and spare fork. "Don't finish my mango. I want some when I get back." She gave you another smile and then squeezed past Brittany, completely ignoring any more protests you might have had.
You watched them walk away, heading towards the auditorium doors before turning back to the mango. She always gave you something from her lunch, and you knew she'd handed over her most prized part to shut you up. The annoying thing was that it was probably going to work. She had sweetened you up and you were a sucker for it.
Piercing a bit of mango with the fork, you tucked in and tried to ignore Brittany's chuckling next to you. Of course, she would laugh at your predictability. She could read you like a book, and it was obvious that you incapable of defying Rachel's wishes.
Only when you had finished half of the mango did you put the lid back on and decided to breach the subject. The two of them had been away for a while, and you looked round in concern but it turned out they had left the auditorium. That unsettled you further.
"Relax, Rachel can handle herself," Brittany finally said, a small smile playing on her lips as she watched you. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, unamused.
"Why should she have to handle herself, though? What does Quinn want?" you asked, frowning.
"You have no faith in her, do you?" That question caught you off guard and your frown vanished. You blinked and shook your head, wondering who exactly she was meaning. You had two very different answers.
"Who?"
"Quinn. You really think she'd going to do something horrible to Rachel?" With that you relaxed slightly and then shrugged.
"Well, no, but I don't want Rachel getting hurt. Quinn is jealous and angry, and I'd hate for that to be taken out on Rachel, especially when it's not her fault."
Brittany looked at you pensively for a moment and then pursed her lips. You knew she was going to say something, probably something that would mess with your thinking, and your body tensed waiting on it.
"Whose fault is it, do you think?"
"Mine, I guess. Fifty words. If that hadn't gotten involved, I would have been able to tell Quinn how I felt and we wouldn't have ended up-"
"Okay, I'm just going to stop you right there, San," Brittany began, shaking her head with a smile, cutting you off. "You're delusional if you think that you would have been able to tell Quinn you loved her or that this situation would be any different without Fifty Words."
"What do you mean?" That had you frowning, curious to see where she was going with this.
"Fifty Words was a tool to break you down so you couldn't push people away," Brittany said, looking at you with a sort of desperation. "How could you think it's to blame for this current situation? Don't you see all the good it has done?"
"Yeah, it's done some good, but it also created a lot of mess along the way. I mean, I was going to tell Quinn I loved her and then I lost my words, I was kicked off the Cheerios and ended up alone, my reputation suffered because I couldn't go all Lima Heights on their asses-"
"But what about becoming friends with Rachel? Being secure enough to tell Quinn you love her? Being comfortable enough with your sexuality not to accept anything less than an open and secret free relationship? Being friends with people who genuinely care about you? Doesn't any of that count?"
It did, it most definitely did, but it also didn't. Quinn fell in love with the harsh and venomous Santana Lopez, not the girl who had been stripped down to nothing but her most honest and valuable opinions. Fifty words had changed you, but it hadn't changed anyone else.
Rachel had always been as forgiving and kind, and it took Fifty Words before you noticed it. Brittany was always a great friend, but it took Fifty Words before you could reconcile that friendship. Then there was Quinn, she had been most content before Fifty Words, so it made sense that after Fifty Words, she'd be struggling the most.
Your relationship with her worked before you had changed, before you had seen that hiding in the shadows and loving from afar was not the road for you, but she hadn't changed. She was still the same, still needing to hide in the shadows. So, unless anything changed on her end, it looked like things wouldn't work out between the two of you.
And that's where you hated Fifty Words. You loved her, you adored her, and you knew she felt the same way. But she was exactly where you had been last year. She was scared and frightened. She couldn't be out, and you never would have needed her to be if Fifty Words hadn't changed your perspective of things.
It didn't matter what the masses thought if you had those few special people in your corner, Rachel and Brittany, looking after you. But it was clear Quinn didn't think that. The people in her corner weren't enough for her to risk the ridicule, and without some divine intervention, you suspected that relationship would never get off the ground.
Friends, you were trying so hard to be friends. But for what?
"Why does any of this matter?" you finally asked, feeling an all too familiar ache in your chest.
Looking up into the familiar eyes of Britt, you fought hard to ignore that realisation and then glanced up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath as you did so. You were not going to get upset about this. Everything would work out. It would be fine.
"I just wanted to know if I made a mistake," Brittany whispered once you had control of yourself again, her eyes staring off at the stage.
"What?" Turning abruptly back to her, you knew you must have looked like a fish out of water.
What had she just said? What was that? What did that mean? What? A million other questions buzzed around your brain, waiting for her to clarify. You needed to know what she meant by that. You needed her to explain her words fully, because your brain was having a hard time doing so.
Sadly, you never got an answer to your question as at that moment, the auditorium doors opened and in skipped Rachel. Literally skipping. She was so frigging adorable. Brittany's cryptic message was immediately wiped from your mind and you smiled at the advancing brunette.
"Did you leave me some mango?" Rachel asked, slipping past Brittany again and taking her seat.
"Yep, sure did." You handed her back the fruit pot, and watched as her eyes lit up when she popped the lid off.
"Thanks!" She shot you a beaming smile and quickly had a piece before telling you what happened. "Quinn invited me round to have dinner at hers on Thursday night."
"This Thursday?"
"Yep." Rachel didn't seem bothered at all by this, but it had taken you by surprise. What was Quinn thinking? Inviting Rachel over, given their history, just seemed like a train wreck waiting to happen.
"Why?" There had to be some ulterior motive.
"You," Rachel answered simply, pointing a speared piece of mango at you.
"Huh?" That didn't make sense.
"She wants us to make amends and get to know each other, for you," Rachel explained, still looking unfazed. That was unnerving in itself. Wasn't she worried? Wasn't she scared about what would happen?
"Me?" you asked, just for clarification. Maybe you had gotten that wrong.
Apparently not.
Rachel nodded, finishing off the piece of mango in her mouth before continuing. "She knows we're close friends, and I didn't detect any hostility when she mentioned it, and I think she's being genuine. She wants us to get to know one another, without you around as that doesn't end well for any of us." That statement was definitely accurate, but still, the whole situation seemed wrong.
"What about her parents?" Mr. and Mrs. Fabray weren't the most welcoming hosts, and you did not want Rachel exposed to their bigotry and prejudice.
"They won't be there, which is why I think she made this offer in the first place. I hardly think she'd feel comfortable introducing me to her exceedingly Christian parents, and while I do know a fair bit about Christianity, I do believe Quinn's parents are Protestants, not Catholic where all my knowledge lies."
"They are," you interjected, nodding. Your Catholic roots had never appealed to them, and you knew they would hate Rachel for so many things, least of all, her being Jewish.
"Of course. I wouldn't expect anything less." You shot her an amused look at the clear disapproval, and if you didn't know better, you were sure she'd make some kind of WASP joke. But you did, and it was Rachel, so that was never going to happen.
"So are you going?" A part of you was desperate for her to say no. Why, though, you didn't know.
"Definitely. I'm rising to the challenge." How noble, you thought dryly, shooting her an unimpressed look. She ignored it, but grinned cheekily and continued eating.
"Do you think that's wise?"
"No, but she's extending the proverbial olive branch, and I would be a horrible friend to you if I didn't accept it. She's trying, so I will, too."
"You don't have to. I don't mind if you don't want to be friends with her." God, if you were in Rachel's position, you certainly wouldn't want to be friends with Quinn. But then again, if you were in Rachel's position, you probably wouldn't even be friends with yourself, given how difficult that must be for her at times.
"Friends might be pushing it, but I can certainly try to be acquaintances with her." Rachel shrugged at you, as if to say she was going to let this run its course, and you couldn't do anything about it.
"So that's all she wanted?"
"More or less."
"You're not going to tell me about the rest are you?" you asked, eyeing her seriously. She chuckled and shook her head.
"Nope." Typical. When you needed Rachel's verbose speech, she always cut it down. Her simple answers were such a pain at times.
"Fine." You turned back in your seat and crossed your arms, hoping to guilt trip her. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see her glancing at you, and you waited patiently for her reaction.
"Oh don't pout, Santana, please," Rachel said, placing her hand on your arm. "I gave you half my mango, doesn't that count for something?" As if you reaffirm her point, she waved the tub at you.
"Yes it did, but you gave it to me before you decided to withhold information." Rachel sighed dramatically, a smile on her lips and pushed the tub closer to you.
"I'll let you finish it off, if you would like?" her eyes were dancing with mirth, and she couldn't contain the grin.
"No, you enjoy it." You rolled your eyes at your pathetic-ness and pushed the tub back at her, seeing her amused face. It was clear from the onset that you were always going to forgive her for that. You just didn't have it in you to be annoyed at her for anything.
"Thanks!" she chimed, tucking back in. "But seriously, the rest of the conversation is nothing to worry about, just things Quinn and I needed to say to clear the air."
"You're okay, though, right?" you asked, trying to detect any hint of her being hurt by whatever Quinn had said to her. It wasn't there, which either meant she was getting better at hiding her emotions from you, or that everything was fine. You were hoping it was the latter.
"Absolutely." You believed her, and then smiled as she dove off into a completely new topic, her enthusiasm bringing Brittany and you back into the mix.
As hard as you tried, this development still didn't sit well with you. It probably wouldn't until it was over and done with, and you knew for sure there was nothing malicious behind Quinn's actions. God, you wished you could give the girl more credit, but she was head of the Cheerios and leader of the Unholy Trinity for a reason. Information like that couldn't just be forgotten overnight.
*0*0*
That Thursday night, you paced your floor a thousand times, kept looking at the clock, and prayed for time to move faster. You had agreed with Rachel that she would come to yours afterwards, as she knew you would be unsettled by it all. You wanted to be embarrassed that she knew you so well, but there was no time for that, and really, you shouldn't have been surprised.
Rachel was only going to Quinn's for dinner, and you had already found out she was to be there for seven o'clock. Therefore, by nine o'clock she should have been out of there, easily. Yet, as you looked at the clock another time, it read ten seventeen.
What the hell were the two of them up to for three hours? Had one of them snapped? Were you going to get a phone call asking you to help move a dead body and provide an alibi?
As if the universe was aware of your thoughts, your phone suddenly vibrated, and you almost tripped over your own feet trying to get to it.
I'm outside, come let me in. – Rachel
Chucking the phone on the bed, you skipped down the stairs, trying hard not to draw too much attention to you so your parents didn't come out and start the Spanish Inquisition. Thankfully, they both looked to be happily settled in the living room, and oblivious to your actions.
Opening the door as quietly as possible, you ushered Rachel in and the two of you snuck up to your room. She looked to be in one piece, and her eyes weren't puffy or red from crying, so that was good, but still, she might have been holding it in. You needed to be sure.
After one final check to see your parents were still occupied, you shut your bedroom door and locked it. Rachel was glancing round your room with curiosity, and completely oblivious to all the emotions bubbling up inside of you.
"How'd it go?" you asked, sounding rather frantic as you advanced on her. Rachel smiled and went to step past you, but you were having none of that. If she was going to lie, she could do it to your face. Taking her hand in yours, you tugged her to the bed and made her sit. She laughed at your antics and shook her head, knowing she wasn't going to get away that easy.
"It went well, better than I expected," she admitted, no sign of deception in her words.
"Really?" You could hardly believe it.
Rachel smiled and rolled her eyes, clearly expecting your distrust at her words and nodded. "Yes, really. Don't sound so surprised."
"I am surprised. You had dinner at Quinn's house. Not even I do that." Rachel practically flinched at your words, and you wanted the floor to swallow you up whole when you realised what you'd eluded to with that sentence.
"Not even when you two were…?" Rachel asked, looking anywhere but at you.
"No, dinner wasn't exactly what we wanted from each other," you said, rubbing the back of your neck, anxiously. Nice going, jackass.
Rachel seemed to hear your words and then take a moment to process them. She blinked once, twice, before shaking her head and taking a deep breath.
"Oh. Well, that's a little awkward." She frowned and examined the bedspread beneath her fingertips, avoiding eye contact with you.
"Awkward?"
"It felt weird being in her room, knowing you two had…yeah." She had been in Quinn's room. Fucking hell, was Quinn trying to torture the girl?
"Was it all weird, being there?" you asked, curiously. You needed to know how much it had affected her so you knew what stance to take in case something like this happened again. If you made enough fuss, you were sure you could get Rachel to bow out of whatever Quinn had planned next.
"At first we danced around the issues, but eventually it became clear small talk was going to get us nowhere. We hashed out some problems, and then found mutual ground to discuss. And no, you may not enquire as to what it was. Quinn and I are attempting to patch up our problems, and you getting involved only spells disaster."
"If that wasn't true, I'd be very hurt right now by that accusation," you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. Pft, as if you were the problem here.
"Oh shush."
"So, you guys don't have plans for anything else, do you? I don't think my heart could take the worrying," you admitted, watching as Rachel's face lit up with your confession.
"You were that worried, huh?"
"You know I was, now answer the question." She grinned at you and the embarrassment you felt seemed worth it.
"No, we haven't made any plans. I think we're just seeing how it goes, and if Brittany has another sleepover, then we will try to be civil towards each other then." Rachel shrugged, looking unfazed by it all, as if it wasn't really a big deal for her. Maybe it was only a big deal for you.
"Okay, so if you're free, do you maybe want to…I don't know, do you want to…" you began to say, frowning at the nerves you suddenly felt. It was only Rachel, but the two of you had a friendship that flourished in school, and so far, hardly any interaction out of it.
"Yeah?" Rachel asked, curiously raising her eyebrows in question.
"I mean, do you want to come over and hang out this Friday? We've not really been able to do that properly." That was an understatement. The times the two of you had were either with other people present, or where you had run out of words.
"Really?" Rachel looked excitied, but there was a shadow of doubt, as if she didn't believe you.
"Yes, really. Don't sound so surprised," you mocked, earning a playful glare in return.
"That's a very kind offer, and once I get permission from my fathers, I shall be happy to say yes."
"Okay, so great, it'll never happen. Your fathers hate me," you moaned, dramatically dropping back on the bed. Rachel laughed and you felt her move to lean over you.
"They don't hate you, they just don't know you. I'm working on rectifying that, however." You frowned at that, earning another smile on her lips.
"Bullshit, they hate me. And stop whatever it is you're thinking now, I do not consent. Oh, and how the hell did you convince them to let you go to Quinn's house? The Fabray's hate your family."
Rachel winced and nodded, clearly ignoring your 'do not consent' comment. Whatever, you'd get back to that later. No way was she getting off that easy.
"Indeed, it was very tricky, but I convinced them that Quinn was in need of a friend and it would hypocritical of them if they didn't let me be that friend."
"But you're not friends with her," you pointed out, causing Rachel to roll her eyes at you again.
"Yes, but they don't know that."
"This is why they hate me. You would never have lied like that before I came along." You were such a bad influence on her.
"Oh please, you give yourself too much credit. I would, and did, lie like this. You just gave me fun reasons to do so, rather than really sad ones." You gave her a soft smile at that, feeling guilty all of a sudden, but she saw right through you. "None of that, get that look off your face now, and tell me what you have planned for Friday before I have to leave."
You smiled and rolled your eyes, pleased that she was looking forward to tomorrow night, and rather relieved she wasn't going to let her fathers' distaste for you ruin things. After running through what you hoped the two of you could do this Friday, Rachel left your house with a beaming smile on her face, and a spring in her step, not unlike the one you had sported earlier on in the week.
You were still smiling, too, as you crawled into bed sometime later. Rachel and you were still going strong, your friendship unaffected by her feelings, Quinn was trying to patch things up by the looks of it, and Brittany was standing in the wings making sure everything ran smoothly. These girls, god, you loved them.
With them in your life, they made the mountains look like molehills, and anything could be achieved.
*0*0*