Authors Note: As I said with my latest chapter of Of Poles And Promises, I know that I've apologized before for delays in posting chapters and I'm afraid I must do so again. I know its been a while since I posted anything and there are a number of reasons for that but since most of them are personal, I don't want to go into them here. Suffice to say that I've had a break and now I'm back and planning on finishing off the stories I've been writing. I can't say I'll post as often as I have in the past (before the innumerable delays) but I think it should be more often than not.

Also, for those of you who have read The Reluctant Cheerio, follow my tumblr account ( talwynfanfic dot tumblr dot com, clickable link in my profile) for information on how you can have a chance to win one of a very limited number of hardback book versions of the story! (hand signed and numbered!).

It was still dark in Quinn's room the next day when she finally woke up, though that was due more to the heavy curtains covering the hotel windows rather than an early hour. She knew she was alone in the bed, whenever Brittany was with her they were always in contact somehow, but she could hear the faint noise of cartoons coming from one corner of the room. Britt had obviously gotten restless and decided to entertain herself by watching some television and Quinn was grateful that her girlfriend had thought to turn down the sound and turn the television away from the bed.

She risked cracking open one eye but the thumping in her head was just made that much worse by what little light made it past the curtains and that flickered from the TV screen. She groaned, which really didn't help, and slammed her eye shut again, covering both of them with one arm to block out any photon that might try to find its way into her eyes.

"There are painkillers and a glass of water on the bedside table."

The first few words came out far too loud, the speaker obviously not expecting her voice to be so loud in the quiet room, but she controls the volume quickly and the rest of the sentence was spoken in little more than a whisper. Quinn's hand was already searching for the pills before the surprise at the owner of the voice fully registered. She hadn't expected Santana to be waiting in her room for her to wake up, but maybe the Latina was keeping Britt company. Quinn wonders for a moment where Rachel is but then her hand find the pills and she pops them into her mouth, raising her head a little to wash them down with what she assumes is the glass of water. She still hadn't opened her eyes again.

"Britt?" she croaks.

"She's in my room with Rach, hopefully sleeping." Santana says.

After a moment taxing thought, Quinn asks "Why?"

"Because she dragged you back here with my help at 2am in the morning, put your drunken ass to bed and then spent the rest of the night awake to make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit." Santana said in a slightly harsh tone.

Quinn groans, Santana's rising tone is causing a renewed thumping in her head and the painkillers hadn't had enough time yet to take effect. But Santana doesn't seem to feel the need to add anything else at this point and Quinn is content to bury her head in the hotel's soft pillows and wait for the painkillers to do their thing.

She's just wondering when Santana started watching children's cartoons, maybe the Latina was preparing herself for motherhood, when a stray thought makes its way through her mind and causes her to sit bolt upright in the bed and grope on the bedside table for her phone, ignoring the spinning and thumping in her head to look round frantically when the device did not fall immediately to hand.

"Where's my phone?" she demands.

"Wherever you left it I guess." Santana says in a bored tone.

"My purse…"

It was the last place Quinn could remember putting her phone and she doubted Britt would have taken it out to use it since she had her own. But in her still somewhat inebriated and light sensitive state, she can't even see that in the darkness of the room. Santana seems to know where it is however as a few moments later the reassuring weight of her purse lands on her lap. She argues with the zip for a moment before it yields to her fingers and she finally gets it open revealing her phone nestled at the top of the bag.

One new voice mail.

It takes three attempts to unlock the phone but then she's listening to the waiting message. It's long and detailed and she's not sure she understood half of it, but she got the general idea of what the voice on the recording was saying and the wave or relief she felt when it was over had her falling back onto the bed, the phone and purse suddenly forgotten.

"What's going on Q?"

Quinn isn't sure why but the soft, tentative question suddenly makes her want the comforting feeling of her girlfriends arms around her. She curls up on the bed, arms wrapping around herself and whimpers quietly. Santana's eyebrows make it up past her hairline, she's seen Quinn in many states from totally hammered to pissed off and everything in between, but she's never seen her sounding so small and scared. The Latina isn't even sure Quinn realizes she's saying Britt's name over and over again but it has her reaching for her own mobile phone and sending a message which results in the room door opening quietly a few minutes later.

Britt steps into the room and moves towards the bed without a moment's hesitation. She drops her dressing gown, ignoring the fact that she's only wearing panties underneath, and climbs under the covers to pull Quinn against her. The blonde's whimpers to develop into full blown sobs as she buries her face in her girlfriends neck.

Rachel steps into the room a moment after Brittany and throws Santana a questioning look as she closes and re-locks the door. Santana shrugs and holds out her arms so the diva can climb into her lap and snuggle against her while they wait for Quinn to regain her composure. It took some time but with Britt's gentle comforting while the other blonde clung on to her, Quinn's sobs eventually quieten to some sniffing and an occasional hiccup. Santana takes this as her cue and slips out from under Rachel, moving to sit near the foot of Quinn's side of the bed. She reaches out to squeeze a lump in the sheets that is one of Quinn's ankles in a way she hopes in reassuring to the other girl.

"What's going on Q?" she asks quietly again.

This produces a fresh bout of sobs from the blonde, though not as heart-breaking as before, and she buries her face in the crook of Brittany's neck. The dancer rocks her gently, rubbing her back with one hand as she coos to her quietly, and just when Santana had all but given up an answer, she finally gets one.

"He almost killed her!" Quinn blurts suddenly as if it took an immense effort to get the words out. After a hiccup she adds one more word, "Russel."

Rachel's gasp would have been comical overkill under other circumstances but Santana barely hears it over the sound of rushing blood in her ears.

"You're Mom?" she asks hardly even recognizing her own voice.

Quinn nods after a moment, her face still buried in her girlfriend's neck, and though no one asks, she tells them what she knows, interrupted only by various sobs, sniffs and hiccups.

"He beat her. Left her in the living room lying in a pool of her own blood."

An image of the scene came unbidden to Santana's mind and causes her to grimace. She's been in that living room, seen the pristine light fawn carpet that Quinn's Mom was left bleeding out on.

"A friend found her when she didn't show up for…" Quinn pauses, trying to remember what her mother was late for but she's not entirely sure she registered that part of the conversation, "… something."

"The phone call yesterday?"

"The police letting me know what happened," Quinn answers, "And this morning was an update from the doctor that's looking after her."

"How is she?" Rachel finally manages to ask after a moments total silence in the room.

"Alive," Quinn croaks, "just. She's in intensive care. Broken bones, broken ribs, lacerations. Some sort of head injury. She's in a coma. I don't remember all of the details."

"Shit." Just cursing isn't enough; Santana can feel her whole body vibrating with the need to do something.

"I'll call the airlines," Rachel says, "We might have to take an indirect route, but I'll get us back to Lima today…"

Rachel was already reaching for her mobile phone as she spoke, but was interrupted by a sudden outburst from Quinn.

"No!" She was suddenly sitting straight up in the bed, a hand outstretched towards Rachel as if physically trying to stop her. She only collapses back onto the bed when she's sure Rachel has stopped dialing, "They said I should stay here… At least until we were scheduled to go back, give them a chance to find him."

It was all too much for Santana. Her blood had started to boil from the moment Quinn had mentioned Russel's name and each revelation after had just made her more and more angry. She had removed her hand from Quinn's ankle when she had mentioned ICU for fear that she might just inadvertently squeeze it too hard in her anger and cause the girl an injury. Her hands were now bunched tight into fists, her nails digging in to her own palms, but it didn't help. She needed an outlet before she did something she'd regret, and since Russel wasn't around to pound into dust, she needed to find something else.

Without warning Santana launches herself from the bed, stalks across the room to wrench open the door, steps outside and slams the door behind her.

Rachel had instinctively understood that Santana needed some time to herself, she had noticed her fiancé tensing up more and more as Quinn had spoken and she was a little thankful that there was no chance that a certain asshole was in the vicinity otherwise she was sure that Santana would be on her way to hunt him down.

So she gave Santana some time before she went looking for her but she did slip out of Quinn and Brittany's room soon after the Latina had left since it appeared that the Brittany had chosen a rather intimate way to console her girlfriend and Quinn didn't seem to be objecting. Rachel didn't expect Santana to be in their room when she stepped through the door and so was not disappointed to find that was the case. But it didn't look like anything had been touched since she had last left the room, so Rachel assumes Santana hadn't even stopped by on her way to wherever she went.

She decides to give Santana an hour which should be plenty of time to work out whatever frustration she was feeling and keeps herself busy by reading the reports on the local Lima newspaper websites. The reports weren't very detailed, Rachel probably knew more about the attack from what Quinn had told her, but there was no mention of anyone being taken into custody which probably meant that Russel was still managing to avoid the police.

When the hour is up, Rachel abuses her relationship with Santana to have the hotel staff track the Latina down and in less than ten minutes from her first call to the front desk, she's walking into the gym complex on one of the hotels lower floors. She's been told Santana is in one of the weight rooms and has been, as far as Rachel can tell, since she left Quinn and Brittany's room, but before she can make it to the room, she's approached by a rather bubbly member of staff.

"Hi, I'm Amy. Are you here for a prenatal yoga session?"

"Prenatal Yoga?" Rachel asks, a little surprised by the offer, "Is that even safe?"

"Sure," the bubbly redhead says, "it's a great way to relax and reduce physical and emotional stress. It's beneficial for both mummy and baby. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?"

The way the young woman is eying Rachel's baby bump is a giveaway that she's one of those hands-on people that is probably only restraining herself because of her job at the hotel.

"It's twins," Rachel informs her, "And no, we don't know what they are yet."

"Twins!" the girl actually bounces on her toes a little reminding Rachel of Brittany, "You must be so happy!"

Rachel can't help but laugh at the girls enthusiasm, especially when her hand starts to gravitate towards her baby bump apparently of its own accord only to be snatched back before it makes contact. The diva decides to have mercy on the girl that seems to be so excited about someone else's pregnancy.

"It's okay, you can feel them if you like but they aren't moving around much or kicking right now."

Almost before she'd finished the sentence, the instructor's hands are pressed gently onto her stomach and Rachel's pretty sure the other girl is actually holding her breath. She almost wants one of the babies to kick just to make this girl happy, but they don't oblige and after a moment the instructor pulls back looking disappointed. But she shakes off the disappointment within moments and is back to her, apparently normal, bouncy, enthusiastic self.

"So can I interest you in a prenatal yoga session?"

"I really don't think that's something…" Rachel begins but immediately feels like she's kicking a puppy with the way the instructors face falls.

"It's just I don't get to work with mothers to be much here" she pouts as her eyes drop to Rachel's baby bump again.

The pout is almost as bad as Brittany's and while Rachel tells herself she just wants to get away from this girl to seek out Santana, she kind of wants to cheer her up too. She probably makes a fortune for the gym with that pout. Then Rachel has an idea.

"I assume I can bring some friends along, even if they aren't pregnant?"

"Sure" the girl is instantly back to sickly bubbly, "It's prenatal mostly because we limit the positions that we do so that expecting mommies can handle them comfortably, but…"

Rachel cuts off what appears to be the start of a detailed explanation and makes an appointment for a session for four at three pm that afternoon. They don't have anything planned as far as Rachel was aware and some yoga might help Quinn and everyone else relax a little, even if the diva isn't sure if either of the blondes will actually turn up. She figures if she can persuade Brittany to go, Quinn will tag along with her girlfriend. Perhaps she just won't mention that it is prenatal yoga.

Once Rachel manages to disengage herself from the instructor she wanders through the rest of the complex looking for her fiancé. The gym seems to be organized around numerous smaller rooms each containing a number of different types of machine rather than large rooms with ranks of identical machines like Rachel has seen in commercial gyms. She supposes it makes some sort of sense, the kind of people who stayed at this hotel would probably prefer privacy when exercising, but it does make finding someone a little tricky.

The diva passes through a cluster of what looks like dance studios and finally locates the weight rooms. Santana is in the second room she checks, but she's not using one of the benches or even lifting weights. A punch bag swings back and forward from the ceiling and every time its arc reaches the point closest to Santana, the Latina punches it with enough force to make Rachel wince. The cheerleader grunts every time a punch makes contact and only pauses to wipe away the sheen of sweat from her forehead with her sleeve.

Rachel slips into the otherwise empty room and closes the door behind her just as Santana unleashes a flurry of punches that she accompanies with a string of curses then she pauses, wrapped hands steadying the bag while she rests her forehead against it for a moment, and Rachel ceases the opportunity.

"Whatever did that punching bag do to deserve that treatment?" She asks in an amused tone.

Santana doesn't jump but she does chuckle, "Meet Russel" she says, pulling back and giving the bag one last bone crushing punch that sets it swinging a little before crossing to the bench Rachel had sat down on and joining her, "Hey."

"Hey. You okay?" Rachel asks.

"No."

Rachel says nothing.

"He's still hurting her Rach." Santana says after a moment, "He made her life hell before he ran off with that tattooed freak, disowned her, hit her, chased her out of her own home and despite everything we've don't to help her, he's still managing to hurt my best friend! And the worst part? You want to know what the absolute worst part of it all is? There's absolutely nothing I can do to stop it!"

Santana had started to yank at the tape that someone had wrapped around her hands as she spoke and Rachel reached out to stop her, slowly taking over the task of removing the tape.

"San, you're doing so much for her already. You've given her a new home, a new family, the unconditional love she's never known from her birth family. Let the police deal with Russel and you do what you've always done for her, be there for her even when she thinks she doesn't need anyone else."

"I just… I want to hurt him Rach; I want to hurt him like he's hurt her."

"I know" Rachel says, "But if you go out hunting for Russel your either going to end up in trouble with the police or worse, in hospital like Quinn's Mom. Quinn needs you right now. So do I and our children." She pulls Santana's hands into her lap, "The best thing you can do to hurt him right now is exactly what you have been doing ever since Quinn moved in with us."

Santana leans over to Rachel and pulls her into a hug, "How do you always know exactly the right thing to say?"

Rachel smiles and pats the Latina's arm before standing and holding her and out, "Come on, let's go get some lunch before our prenatal yoga session."

"Sure" Santana agrees automatically, "Wait, what?"

Santana grit her teeth against the groan that wanted to escape and cursed herself again for letting Rachel talk her into this. Of course the diva had pulled the Quinn card which the Latina had no viable defense for, if Santana and Brittany went to the yoga class then Quinn would go too and it would distract her from the current situation. But it was a prenatal class anyway, so it couldn't be that bad, right?

Right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong. Rachel might be getting the prenatal class but the rest of them are getting tortured like Amy was the bastard child of Sue Sylvester and Pol Pot and Santana is starting to wonder just when this session will end. She glances at one of the mirrors that line the walls of the small room to check out how the others are doing. Rachel's fine of course and Britt seems to be having the time of her life, she's already talking about looking for classes when they get back to Lima. Quinn though is having as many problems as the Latina. She's covered in a sheen of sweat and while Santana is watching, her arms tremble badly enough that it would have gotten her sent to the bottom of the pyramid if Sue had seen it.

Thankfully Amy chooses that moment to take pity on them.

"Okay everyone, relax."

Santana and Quinn pretty much immediately collapse onto their mats and reach for the bottles of water sitting nearby. Brittany is actually bouncing about the room like a Duracell Bunny with fresh batteries and not for the first time Santana wonders where she gets all her energy from.

"I have another class to lead," Amy informs them, "But you have the room for another half hour. Remember to warm down before you go!" This last was called back to them over her shoulder as the instructor was already half way out of the door.

Santana swallows a couple of mouthfuls of water then flops onto her back and closes her eyes. She seriously considers just pouring the rest of the contents of the bottle over her head where she lay, but she didn't think she had another bottle to hand and an impromptu shower would just leave her thirsty whenever she actually managed to push herself back up to sitting.

"We're going to hit the showers." Brittany declares while pulling Quinn to her feet, "We'll see you upstairs later."

Santana is oblivious as Rachel accompanies the other girls to the door, closes and locks it and pulls the blind down over the small window. She becomes aware of Rachel's return when the diva dumps something on her face.

"Hey!" Santana groans half-heartedly.

She flails an arm for a while until whatever landed on her is pushed clear of her face, but the frown she was wearing doesn't survive the giggle this action elicits from Rachel. She's about to ask what that was in aid of but as she opens her mouth, Rachel's hand lands somewhere really private and all that comes out is a surprised squeak. Santana had decided not to wear her compression shorts for the yoga session, not to be wearing anything too constricting when she was going to be bending in God knows which direction, so instead she had chosen boxers and a pair of sweats and hoped that the instructor would not notice that bulge that shouldn't be there or at least not mention it.

But that meant there was nothing restricting her when Rachel's hand landed square on her penis and started massaging. A few moments ago she had been so exhausted that all she could think about was a nap but now her body was already reacting to her fiancé's expert touch and while she was still exhausted, sleep was suddenly the furthest thing from her mind.

"What you doing Rach?" she asks cautiously.

All she gets in response is a giggle and a squeeze that forces a moan of pleasure from her throat. They might not be the most experienced people when it came to sex, but Rachel was a fast and enthusiastic learner and sometimes Santana hated just how easy it was for the diva to turn her on. Sometimes it was like she had a damn switch and right now was one of those times, especially when Rachel leans forward or her knees and starts nibbling on Santana's neck.

"Rach… We can't do this here." Santana objects.

"Yes we can."

"No we can't." Santana forces past another groan as Rachel decides to pick that moment to slide her hand under the Latina's sweat pants, "Anyone could come in."

"The door is locked, the blinds are shut and Amy said we have the room for" Rachel pauses and looks up at the clock on one wall, "another twenty five minutes."

But Rachel isn't worried about Santana stopping her since, despite the verbal objections, the Latina hasn't raised a finger to stop her and still doesn't even as the diva tugs the sweat pants and boxers off of the other girls hips and half way down her thighs to exposes her erect cock to the room. She tilts her head to one side and hums as she appreciates Santana's length, her fingers ghosting over the Latina's hardness from base to tip and eliciting another moan from the Latina.

Suddenly Rachel's hand is firm around the base of Santana's shaft as, with no warning, she sucks the tip into her mouth. The Latina's hips jerk up of their own accord, an action the diva is very accustomed to and that she always found amusing, and she moans again as the diva's mouth slowly descends. Santana's not entirely sure how long Rachel continues her ministrations, her mind always seems to turn off when the diva brings her talented tongue to bear, but her head has rolled to one side and, after a few moments of confused disbelief, she realizes she's actually watching the reflection of Rachel sucking her cock in one of the large mirrors mounted around the room. The sight is intoxicating and Santana decides that she has to seriously reconsider Rachel's suggestion to make a video for their own personal use.

And then Rachel has released her and Santana learns that the diva hasn't bothered with panties under her yoga pants. She takes the hint to kick off her own sweat pants and boxers and she's only just gotten them clear when Rachel is pushing her flat on her back again and is kneeling astride her body. The diva reaches down between her thighs to grab Santana's cock before she impales herself on its length, slowly lowering herself until the Latina is completely inside her and she's more or less sitting on the Santana's hips.

She takes a moment to glance at the clock, "We have fifteen minutes."

"Not gonna need it." Santana grunts from below her.

Rachel giggles and leans forward slightly, placing her hands on Santana's stomach as she starts to ride the other girl. Santana's hands find the diva's thighs, stroking and scratching at the bare flesh before reaching to grab handfuls of ass as powerful dancers muscles propel Rachel up and down to establish a pleasing rhythm. They are both groaning and panting but it doesn't take long before Santana realizes her fiancé is quickly tiring, the muscles under her fingers trembling with exertion rather than pleasure.

"Wait…" she gasps.

Rachel complies, lowering herself one last time onto Santana before allowing herself to relax. Santana bends her legs, bringing her thighs up to meet Rachel's back then she slowly sits up, in the process lowering the diva until she's laying on the mat with her legs over the Latina's now splayed thighs. Santana pulls her legs around behind her and leans forward, supporting herself on hands planted securely on either side of Rachel, leaving plenty of space for the baby bump but still allowing the Latina to thrust into the diva.

It takes a few moments to get into her stride and then Rachel's legs loop around her hips and then the room is filled with grunts and groans of pleasure and wet slapping noises. Rachel's fingers claw Santana's back and tangle in her hair, her hips rising to meet Santana's downward thrusts and Santana adjusts her weight to allow her to slip her hand between their bodies to stroke the diva's little nub.

This time it's as if Santana has found Rachel's on switch, her back arches almost immediately and Santana can feel her walls fluttering around her cock. She thrusts again, her soaked fingers pressing against Rachel's clit and the diva lets go, her pussy clamping around the Latina's cock and legs tightening around Santana's hips to hold her in place while her body quakes. Santana's own shuddering release follows very quickly after and she has to quickly pull her hand from between their bodies so she doesn't collapse on top of the pregnant girl even as she pumps her seed into her.

They pull apart a few moments later, Santana rolling to lay on her back next to Rachel and just as she's glancing at the clock on the wall to check the time, a member of staff bangs on the door to tell them another group is waiting to make use of the room.