Chapter XIV

A/N: I'm going to address some questions that I have received about how "out" Santana is, and also about the relationships between some of the other characters.

Santana hasn't had a coming out party or big announcement or anything of that nature, but she doesn't hide who she is, and most people know due to the wonderful phenomenon that is word of mouth.

This is an AU, which means the Prom pairings do not line up with the show. For example, Rachel is still with Finn, and Artie is taking Brittany to the Prom.

Quinn's POV

I cradled my head in my palm, elbow on the back of my chair, absolutely, positively apathetic concerning the current Rachel Berry Glee practice spectacle that was going on in front of me. Santana had been sitting by me almost every day, until the day I saw her belting "There Are Worse Things I Could Do" in the auditorium. Today she was sandwiched between Puck and Kurt, the latter being an odd choice for her.

Part of me was incredibly irritated about the Sadie thing. She still hadn't told me that they were going together to Prom. I mean, I hadn't told her I was going with Sam, but that was different. I was sure she knew about Sam, not to toot my own horn, but the whole school did. We were the Junior Prom candidates to beat now that we had joined forces.

She hadn't made a single effort to hang out with me since that day, and I couldn't help but think that she was too busy having sex with Sadie to spend time with me. Why was I being such a girl about all of this?

Sam was timidly trying to touch my hand with his. I knew he wanted me to hold his hand, but I really, undeniably, was not in the mood for it.

If Santana were to look over at me just then, I would have looked completely whacked out. I was glaring at the side of her face as if doing so would allow me to discover the secrets locked carefully inside her brain. Outside of cheer practice and the necessities at work, she hadn't said two words to me. We went from sleeping in the same bed to hardly being acquaintances. She wasn't being awful or rude to me; she wasn't being anything to me at all. It was like I didn't exist. It was so much worse than being her rival. At least as her arch enemy, she acknowledged me.

"We tried the whole RuPaul drag display last year, and we needs ta try something new, Mr. Schue. The judges obviously are not connecting with the one woman Yentl show." Besides the overtly uncouth name calling, I knew the rest of the room agreed with Santana. I nodded in agreement despite my current conflict, or whatever it was, with her.

Rachel was predictably wounded and dramatic, slamming her hand over her heart with a thud. The rest of the class was a blur of arguments and debate that I just didn't have the heart to participate in.

"Are you coming Quinn?" Before I knew it the room was emptying, and Sam was loyally waiting for me.

"She'll be right with you, Guppy Face. I'm gonna need a minute with your Prom date." Sam shrugged off Santana's insult, and I waved him off when he gave me his "is this okay with you?" look.

"What do you want, Santana?" My tone was more biting than I would have liked, but hell, I was aggravated.

"Whoa, Fabray. What flappy fish has flopped its way into your underwear today? Actually, don't answer that, I'm well aware of your preference for Trout."

I was fuming and it was all I could do not to give her one of my genius slaps.

"Sam's a good guy." I blinked away from her eyes, collecting my books to leave.

"I know, and I'm happy for you, but I'm not here to talk about Macaulay Culkin." She just didn't quit, did she? She was suddenly all smiles; clearly we did not catch the same crazy train this morning.

"What are you here for then?" I rubbed the top of my eyebrow with the flesh of my palm, attempting to sound aloof. I hated how much I had missed her during our recent separation.

"Will you meet me in the Senior parking lot tonight?" She handed me one of the notebooks that I had forgotten during my quest to seem uninterested in her presence. Her fingertips brushed, and I could have sworn, lingered near mine as she pushed the notebook onto the pile in my hands.

"Why the hell would I do that when you've been ignoring me for days?" It was a fair question. I didn't need a friendship that I couldn't depend on. Not with Santana. Not with anyone.

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?" She tilted her head, as if she knew that if I made eye contact with her for too long, I would lose all resolve to be angry with her.

I glared at her in response. How's that for eye contact?

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. There's been a good reason for it though. Let me show you, tonight?" She stroked my wrist lightly with her fingertips, a wrist that she had once held in a vice grip during our storage room encounter. I was fucked.

How was I supposed to say no that smile? Also, Santana apologized about as often as I failed to ace an exam, and that was very rarely. Without my consent, anticipation began to bubble inside of me.

Save for the parking lot lights, it was pitch black outside when I pulled up to meet Santana for our mysterious rendezvous. I was far more nervous than I felt like I should have been. Why did Santana have to be so god damn vague all the time?

Santana was leaning against her car looking like a spread straight out of Cosmo for Latinas, with her dark jeans, and blue long-sleeved pullover sweater with a low V-neck. I was still mad at her, but damn, she looked good.

"You have ten seconds." I called to her, slamming my driver's side door shut. I was angry, it was cold, and all she could do was give me that sideways look with that fucking smirk.

"I can do a lot in ten seconds, Fabray, but I guarantee you'll want more than ten." I wasn't sure that truer words had ever been spoken, but screw her if she thought I was going to buckle that easily. Well, not screw.

"Times-a-ticking, San." Bravo, Quinn. I'm sure that breath hitch was completely unnoticeable.

She took my hand and guided me in the direction of the school's south gymnasium that was currently under renovation. Damn her if my hand in hers didn't feel so much better than it did in Sam's. So much so, that I didn't even bother to tell her that her time was up.

"What are we doing here? I don't want to get in trouble." I have my rebellious side, but I'm still part goody two-shoes at heart.

"Q." Santana turned around to face me, and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me."

"Trust you? I don't know who you are right now, Santana. Are you the person who slept with my boyfriend freshmen year, are you the girl who forced me to wrap my foot in the back room who made fun of my pregnancy, or are you the Powderpuff captain that let me score the winning touchdown? Who is it tonight?" I was fed up. She couldn't just do this. She knew that because of her I had abandonment issues, and what did she do? She abandoned me again.

Santana let out a pained whistle, and I felt a sting of remorse.

"Ouch." She ran her hand through her silky raven locks, and regrettably dropped my hand from hers.

"San…" I reached out, completely unable to help myself from attempting to calm the lines of anguish apparent on the Santana's features. She turned her head.

"No, I deserve that, but tonight isn't about me."

With that, she turned her back to me, and used a key from her Cheerio Captain master set in the gymnasium lock. She pushed the door open, and held it for me, motioning me into the darkness.

With a deep breath I stepped inside, I felt her move behind me, and the door clicked shut.

"Wha…" I started, but Santana had twisted me around before I could finish, and the lights flickered on.

"Just let me do this, Quinn."

I didn't like feeling so unaware, out of the loop, and out of control, but I relented. I didn't nod, but I remained quiet. That was the best she was going to get out of me.

"As you know, this is the gymnastics gymnasium that they have been remodeling for the past few years. It's almost complete, and I thought that it would be fitting...for the Cheerio Co-Captains to break it in together, you know, before the rookies contaminate it all."

It took me a moment to recognize what she was saying, and just as I was beginning to process, she pushed a black velvet box into my hands.

"Coach wanted me to wait until our summer camp started to tell you, but I couldn't do it. I figured you would be okay with keeping this just between us for now."

I popped open the box and the beautiful, expensive gold necklace with the solid gold C peered up at me from its wonderfully silky bed. I used to have one just like this before Coach demoted me. Santana was currently wearing her own twin necklace around that elegant neck of hers.

I was at complete war with my emotions. I felt like a total ass for treating Santana the way that I had, when she was just trying not to spill the beans of my surprise, and I also felt completely and utterly giddy that I would be leading the Cheerios again. Above all else, Cheerio Captain had been my dream, and when I had lost it, it felt like everything I had ever worked for was lost. And here, standing before me, was the woman who had stolen that dream from me, and now she was giving it back, without asking for anything in return. Fuck her, and her graciousness, and her smile, and her…jeans.

"Tumble with me?" Santana asked, dipping her head to force contact with my eyes. I realized that I hadn't spoken yet. She gestured to the brand new runway, and the untouched pile of foam cubes.

I didn't even know that I had been smiling, but my mouth was hurting from the huge grin on my face. It was obviously infectious because Santana was looking at me with an equally wide grin.

"Yes...yes…oh my god, yes." I rolled my eyes into the back of my head in pure excitement, kicking off my shoes in preparation.

Santana was yanking her jeans down before I could realize what was going on. Oh duh, she couldn't tumble in those deliciously tight pants. I was pretty sure that the shorts she was wearing underneath were just glorified underwear. She was trying kill me with all of this stimulation at once, I was sure of it.

We both began sprinting to the runway and hoisted ourselves onto the platform, giggling like a couple of 13-year-old girls.

Santana allowed me to launch off of the trampoline and into the pit first. It was exhilarating knowing that not only was I the first one to flip into the foam pit, but that I was going to be reigning as Head Cheerio my senior year. Get ready McKinley. I'm back.

She waited for me to exit the pit before launching into what was an admittedly more difficult maneuver. God, she was good. She pointed her feet perfectly, and her legs were just…couldn't she have worn sweatpants or, at the very minimum, leggings like I did?

We took our turns for what seemed like forever that night, until I finally flipped into an exhausted mess, sinking into the foam, breathing heavily.

"Tuckered out, Fabray?" How was she not completely worn-out at this point?

She was just bouncing on the trampoline, smiling at me, as I continued to sprawl out in the foam.

"Are you going to move?" Her eyes seemed to roam my extended form.

I shook my head, I was not capable of such things, and even if I was, I just really needed to take some time to bask in the awesomeness of that night.

"Okay, well you better stay still then." She warned, and hopped lightly into the foam beneath my legs. She waded toward me, catching the infectiousness of my grin once again.

I used Santana's approach time to contemplate something that I had been considering during our flip escapades. If Coach had decided to promote me over the summer, she wouldn't have let Santana know so far in advance. She would have sprung it on her in true Sue Sylvester style. Evidently, Santana had convinced Coach to give me my position back, and Santana had compromised by promising not to tell me until this summer.

Santana was above me before I could fully recognize the implications of my discovery. Without restraint, I traced the contours of her face, breathing heavily beneath her. I wonder how many men and women had fantasized about having this beautiful creature above them like this. Well, not exactly like this, because we weren't doing anything sexual, but still, this gaze, this feeling, this position, it was intimate. Her eyes narrowed in puzzlement at my touch.

"I feel like I've been thanking you a lot lately." I couldn't catch my breath when she was smirking at me, and her hands were on either side of my waist.

"Just trying to fix my karma." She tried one of her signature nonchalant shrugs, but I wasn't having it. She adjusted onto her forearms and elbows, bringing her tropical fruit scent even closer to me.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" I glanced down at her shiny glossed lips. Did she really need to put anything else on them? My eyes were already far too frequently drawn there.

"You have no idea what I tell myself, Q." Oh god, but I would sure like to know. There was a definite charge to our little bubble of an atmosphere. I was able to drop my hand from tracing the side of her face, but I couldn't halt my face's progress toward hers.

I angled my head closer to hers, and although she wasn't breathing heavily before, her breaths were definitely more irregular now. God, I hoped that meant I was having some sort of effect on her.

"Enlighten me?" I refused to avert my eyes from her dark chocolate stare, no matter how vulnerable it made me feel. Sex had never felt as intimate as the gaze we were currently sharing. Her eyes did not stay on mine forever, however, and slipped down to my lips before trailing back.

Her captain necklace fell onto my chest, as we both continued to close the slight distance that remained between us. I had drawn a mental borderline for myself, once I hit that line, it was her responsibility to come the rest of the way. After our last kiss, there was no way that I was going to be the instigator of this one.

Finally.

She crossed my mental line in the sand and then some. My lips yielded to hers instantly. I had craved this since the moment our lips had connected beneath the porch. Santana's kiss was demanding, and I was all too willing to comply with any and all requests.

My memory of this did not do it justice. She moved her lips in such a sensual rhythm against mine, slowing things down after the initial excitement of contact. Her lip gloss tasted of strawberries, and I couldn't get enough.

I had been so worried that I would never get to experience this again, and yet here I was, gently pulling my head away from hers.

"San…" There was no look of disappointment or uncertainty when I was finally able to force my eyelids open. Her look was unadulterated heat, and I almost moaned just at the sight of it. "How am I not your type?" I needed to know, even if the look she was giving me screamed everything but repulsion.

"Stop talking." She commanded huskily, mirroring the exact words I had used under the porch. Instead of my neck, she pressed her lips to mine again. Didn't everything fall apart after I had used those words that night? Why, then, was I going to insist on talking anyway? Why when this felt so incredibly good, and it was such a new sensation that I wanted so desperately to explore, was I going to risk ending it?

"Tell me." I somehow mustered the will to pull away slightly again, although I couldn't keep my lips completely away from hers. I nipped gently at her bottom lip, her hair falling around me as she shook her head. "Please." I begged.

"You're an HBIC, just like me. It wouldn't work." Really? Because it was working oh so deliciously well, as far as I was concerned. I wrapped one arm around her neck, and grabbed a handful of her sweater to pull her close to me. I kissed her just behind her ear, very cognitive of the quiet but animalistic noise that escaped her lips.

"Mmm…well, I can be more submissive, if that's what you need." The noise she made in response was nowhere near as quiet as the last, and this time, her lips did crash into mine.

She tasted like the spearmint gum that she was always chewing although I was rather confident that it was not currently in her mouth. I would have to investigate to know for sure.

I was completely sober this time, but I still could not manage to control my hips. They bucked with every new sensation, every new noise. I wanted more. Could you blame me? I was making out with my Co-Captain in the brand new foam pit, how fucking erotic was this?

She rolled her tongue against my lips, and I was all too ready to meet her tongue with mine. Her hands were in my hair before I even recognized their movement, and now that she was no longer supporting herself on her arms, her body was flush with mine. It was the ideal amount of warm, amazing pressure.

Without warning, we heard a loud noise, and both stilled instantly. It was the sound of someone opening one of the large gymnasium doors. Fuck. I separated my lips and tongue from Santana's to give her what I can only imagine was seething glare. If someone found us, I was going to kill her.

Footsteps. By the jangling of keys, it was either a janitor or security guard.

Santana for her part, did not look frightened, of course not, instead she looked like she was trying to hold back laughter. In her defense, she did quietly shift both of us, making us a less conspicuous target for the unwelcome visitor. We were now beneath the line of the bin, and Santana was attempting to wiggle herself down even further. Whether she did it on purpose or not, her thigh connected with the apex of my thighs, and I gasped.

The footsteps paused, and my heart stopped. We could get suspended. I could lose everything. All because Santana had pushed her bare leg into my thinly covered center.

Her face was priceless. She looked down at my leggings in surprise. At least I had my answer as to whether she had done it on purpose. When her eyes returned to mine, however, they were darker, and her tongue curved partially over her bottom lip briefly. My heartbeat was back.

She lowered her lips to hover over mine. Fucking tease. I was no longer thinking about the janitor or security guard. I was tilting my head up instead, that was, until the lights all turned off, and the door slammed shut.

We both let out heavy breaths, whether it was because the guard left or if it was because of the moment we just shared, I didn't know.

Regrettably, Santana's body weight shifted off of mine, and I followed her as she climbed out of the pit. With her cell phone light, which I believe she extracted from her bra, we collected our shoes and the box with my necklace in it.

She was locking the door behind us before we both erupted into laughter. It was pouring rain by then, and we both sprinted to our cars.

"Oh shit." Santana cursed behind me, as she had reached her car first.

"What?" I yelled back to her, shaking out some of the rain in my hair. My god, did she look good wet.

"I forgot to grab my pants!" She glanced back toward the building, and then down at her scantily clad legs.

"You're lucky that's all that happened!" I laughed at her, climbing into my car.

Just as I was about to step into a very hot shower that night, my phone buzzed with a text from Santana.

Come with me on a recon mission for my pants sometime? ;)

She had to be kidding, but I would be lying through my teeth if I had said that I wasn't tempted.

Santana's POV

Devil in a red dress. It was my signature color, and I just had to rock it for prom. Many of my friends, yes my friends, and I had decided to do the group dinner thing at Breadstix before the dance.

We were taking up multiple tables in the restaurant, relatively close to one another, and Puck was passing a flask underneath and between the tables whenever he decided that no one was looking. He was an idiot, but I could have kissed him that night. Not in a sexy way, but in an "I'm grateful that you're my friend" kind of way. You see, the past couple weeks Mercedes has done nothing but complain about her lack of date for Prom, and instead of taking an easy lay, Puck had asked Mercedes instead. She looked like she was having the night of her life.

Ew, when did I become so freakin' sentimental?

Our table consisted of Puck and Mercedes, Tina and Mike, and Brittany and Artie. It was nice not to spend the night surrounded by Cheerios as I had in years past. Not that I didn't love my Cheerios of course, but I felt at ease with this group, like I didn't have to be in head bitch mode all the time.

Oh, and Sadie was with us. Can't forget her.

Before I had asked the smoldering redhead to Prom, I had made sure to clear it with Brittany first. She had assured me that it was completely fine and apologized for the millionth time for going all "cut a bitch" on my birthday. I really missed how close we were before, and I hoped to get to spend a little time with her that night. It only made me slightly uncomfortable that she was squeezing Artie's leg suggestively as if he could actually feel it.

Finn and Rachel had arrived last to the gathering, and they were forced to take the only open seats next to Sam and Quinn. Awkward. I was grateful not to be at that table.

In truth, every table had some current and prior romantic entanglements. We needed to stop being so damn incestuous.

That's what I was doing with Sadie. Breaking out. Or something like that. She looked great, and her black dress was classier than I expected it to be. The strappy back exposed quite a bit of skin, not that I was complaining, but otherwise it wasn't super short, and her cleavage didn't look like it was going to bounce free at any second. I had underestimated her taste; I had even brought extra double sided tape in case she was going to have a wardrobe malfunction.

"Why does Kurt keep looking at you like you're the love child of Barbra Streisand and Patti LuPone?" Tina asked me curiously, looking between me and the fashionable boy.

I didn't register the question at first; I was too fixated on how close Sam's Hoover Lips were to Quinn's ear. Her dress was a beautifully dark shade of purple, and her hair was styled up with a few curled tresses down to shape her face. She was giggling and playing with her napkin. How precious. I didn't want to feel like this all night. With that in mind, when Sadie offered me the flask under the table, I took my draw before passing it on.