I own nothing.

Santana's POV:

Thanks to someone calling in sick, I had to go into work. I tried to convince Abs to postpone her walking tour of the school with Q, but she wasn't hearing it and neither was Quinn. I guess that was really my fault for not introducing them sooner, but I do what I do.

Luckily, we were slow so I was able to head out after a few hours. I wasn't so much worried about the two of them together as I was terrified. Fabray knows all my secrets. All of them. She knows how I acted in high school and how I'm a pain in the ass most of the time. She knows I secretly like Katy Perry because she's seen me dancing around our apartment to "Last Friday Night" and she laughed until I heard her and promptly changed the song on my IPod forgetting I wasn't on shuffle. I was on her album, which meant it was just another one of her songs that started and my secret was out. She knows how heartbroken I was over Brit both times things didn't work out and how I dated a lot of guys to try to make the gay go away even though I didn't really like any of them. Maybe a couple as friends, but that's even a stretch.

I sent a text to both of them letting them know I was home and asking when they'd be wrapping up so I could get the details. It was agonizing waiting for one of them to reply because each moment I was waiting was filled with another secret I was worried Quinn might share. A few moments later, Q texted back.

Quinn: We're heading to the apartment now. Back soon.

I didn't think about them coming back here. I thought we were just grabbing dinner. Abby's never been to our apartment before. The place wasn't a disaster area, but it wasn't entirely clean either. I quickly rushed around picking up clothing that was scattered and tossed it in our hamper. I actually placed our basically shared Yale sweatshirt in there not because it was dirty but because I think Abby's seen me wear that thing a million times by now. I half-cleaned the dishes in the sink and put them on a shelf hoping no one was going to be cooking later.

After Q and I talked last night, we fell asleep separately. I took the couch and I let her take the bed after she argued with me about it for about 15 minutes and finally just gave up. I had gotten up once to go to the bathroom and drifted over to look at her for a minute before returning to the couch. I've always liked watching her sleep. I used to do it when we had sleepovers in high school too. It was true that we weren't always good to one another, but she had gone through so much in such a short time that watching her in peaceful sleep made me happy because at least for a few hours each night, I knew she was okay. She shifted a little and I could see she was wearing a pair of my old cheer shorts. We rarely paid attention these days to whose clothes we were wearing. I looked down and noticed I was in an old t-shirt that belonged to her. She shifted again and her hand moved to scratch her stomach and I remembered the time I told her I loved kissing her skin.

I walked back over to the couch and resumed my attempt at sleeping, but my mind was again wandering to the morning when Abby and I finally shared our first time. I guess finally really isn't the right word since we've only been dating for a couple of weeks and she wanted to take things slow. I expected that she would want to wait until we were officially a couple or until we had exchanged "I love you" over a romantic dinner or something like that. As my hands went beneath my head and I stared up at the ceiling, I heard Quinn shuffle around under the covers. I sat up to check on her and she had a look on her face that told me she was not having the sweetest of dreams.

I got back up, walked over to her and sat on the edge of the bed. She was lying on her back now so I gently placed my hand over her stomach. I just sat there for another moment until I felt her breath slow and her face returned to its normal sleeping expression.

I walked back to the couch and sat there again contemplating my morning with Abby. Her hands had always felt amazing to me when they were around me during a kiss or when one was linked with mine as we walked down a street, but something about them on me while we were in bed just felt off. I chalked it up to an awkward first time and Quinn was right, Abby's experience had been limited lately. I couldn't entirely blame her either. I wasn't exactly encouraging her to try something else when I realized things weren't really working how I needed them to work. I just kind of let things happen regardless of the fact that it wasn't really doing anything for me.

I swept dust off of some surfaces with my bare hand and headed to check on the bathroom. Surprisingly, for two girls, it wasn't a hot mess. Q and I had developed a system left over from our traveling days during cheer that seemed to hold in present day. I noticed the post-its on the mirror with messages we'd left each other randomly.

She wrote: You're ridiculous.

I wrote: You love it.

She wrote: Falling asleep without you sucks sometimes.

I wrote: I really am the best big spoon, huh?

She wrote: Have fun at work tonight. Make lots of money so we can throw it on the bed later and roll around.

I wrote: I always knew you were a gold digger, Fabray.

I laughed at that one remembering how that night I made about a couple hundred bucks in singles and fives and when I got home around 3am, I woke her up by dropping them on her face before I jumped on top of her and then the rolling commenced and money was only a part of the reason why.

I read through the rest of the notes and straightened up our toothbrush holder and towels hanging on the rack Q had to pick up from Target because after a rather intense round in the shower one morning, I wanted another round just as intense and I basically threw her against the rack that was there when I moved in. She had a bruise on her back for about a week, but I didn't hear any complaints.

I smiled at that thought before something else entered my brain.

Wait. Who am I dating again?