"Who's playing?"

Quinn turned around, glare fully in place. She felt a jolt of satisfaction when she noticed Santana restraining herself from taking a step back.

"Tana. I know what's going on and so do you. What are you still so frightened of?"

The teen glanced around, stepping closer. "Mami and papi. You know how uber catholic they are. What do you think's gonna happen to me if I show up at their doorstep all like, 'Yo. Just so you know, I'm datin' Brittany and have been tappin' that on the regular for quite some time? It's all good, right?'"

"Santana. There's nothing to say that just because they don't agree with it doesn't mean they won't love you less. Didn't you tell me about some of your cousins, the ones who live in Texas? Aren't they gay and they still come around the holidays?"

"Yea but…everyone's still talkin' smack. Just no one says it to their faces."

"What happened to the Santana Lopez who didn't give a shit about what everyone else thought? If you're happy with yourself at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter about everyone else?"

"It matters to me," she said quietly, tone broken. "It's my family, Q. No offense, but your mom, dad, and sister are a buncha assholes and you've been GDI since we hit puberty. I've always had my family at my back and I don't know what I'd do if they weren't there anymore."

Quinn sighed and pulled the teen into her arms as she slowly broke down crying, pulling her into the dressing room she'd just stepped out of. She caught Brittany's eyes just before closing the door, pain echoing back between them. The taller blonde nodded and took a seat, pulling out her phone to fiddle with it while she waited.

They sat down on the little seat area, Santana doing her best to keep the noise to a minimum.

"Do you know how they view homosexuals?"

"They think it's a sin but also that everybody sins and that it could always be worse."

"See? That's progress. Did they ever say anything about Rachel's dads?"

"Not really. Papi works with the black one at the hospital and they're good work buddies and mami sees the Jewish one at the crafts store all the time. They've come over a few times but I've never been there for one reason or another."

"Then why do you think they'd love you any less? They're obviously okay with Rachel's dads and quite frankly, everyone thought you and Brit were dating already. Did you know your mom asked me once if you two were?"

Santana's head shot up, eyes bloodshot. "She what?"

"Yea. And I asked her if that was a problem. Guess what she said? 'Hmpf. If it had to be anyone, I'm glad it's Brittany. Lord knows no one else can keep my Santi in check.'"

They started giggling at Quinn's horrible Spanish accent but it did its job of breaking the tension. Santana sat back, head against the wall with her eyes closed.

"I guess I can always go stay with Brit if they kick me out once I tell 'em." Quinn released a heavy breath, feeling the pressure lift off her chest. She'd been tired of seeing one of her only true friends in so much pain for so long but they'd only just started talking again so she didn't think it was her place to say anything before.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"Tch, you know it. Where's B? I'd've thought she'd be back by now."

"She's waiting outside."

"Might as well go get her before she wanders off." The words were said with a fondness that made Quinn smile. After a quick make-up job to cover the fact that she'd just been crying, Santana left the room, bee-lining for Brittany once she saw her.

"Oh."

Quinn turned, quite unprepared to see Rachel standing there, wearing normal non-argyle clothes. She could admit, objectively, that the girl looked really good.

"Oh my…you cut your hair." Rachel's hand reached up, brushing her fingers through it carefully. Despite her general dislike of being touched, Quinn allowed it, much to her own surprise. "I like it. Looks more like you."

"Thanks." Unbidden, her eyes kept glancing at the cream coloured blouse and the way it really accentuated Rachel's torso. "Where have you been hiding this?" She motioned towards the outfit.

Rachel blushed a little. "At home. It's easier to wash stains out of argyle and in case you haven't noticed, I'm moderately short. So all my pants have to be hemmed. Skirts are just easier since height really doesn't factor too much and my legs are long enough to compensate anyway."

"I'll say…" Clearing her throat and praying her vivid blush away, she cast about for a neutral topic. "So what are you doing here? And where's Kurt?"

"Quinn. We're in a clothing store. He's shopping. I'm pretty sure if I whistle he'll come running." Snorting at the mental image, she looked towards Brittany and Santana, both deep in discussion. "Is everything okay with them?"

"It will be. Santana's got some choices to make that aren't going to be easy but I'm pretty sure they'll be okay."

"I hope so. You know, it's rather ironic." Quinn's eyes narrowed a little at her tone, knowing a lead-up when she heard one.

"What's ironic?"

Rachel grinned mischievously. "Glee club."

"What about glee club is ironic?"

"Our utter lack of being gleeful most of the time?"

"True enough. We are a rather unhappy bunch aren't we?"

"Generally. But I was talking about how when one of us does something, everyone else follows in some way."

"How so?"

"It's part of that ironic thing I was speaking of earlier."

"Berry. You've got a point to make and these circles are driving me crazy."

"I was mostly referring to how many of us are gay, Quinn," she tossed over her shoulder, walking away.