Chapter Seven: Sugar Sugar
You wake with a start when you feel your head vibrating. No, not your head. Your phone.
Why is Brittany calling you at this time?
"Hello?" You answer, flopping back onto your bed as you do.
"Santana! It's urgent." You're up again in a panic and falling over yourself to get dressed.
"What? What's happened? Oh my god, are you okay?"
"Santana," you hear Brittany whimper, "I think I've lost her."
Your heart drops at the words, you're not good with loss or consoling those who have lost. Well, it's more a case of you'd prefer not to, but this is Brittany so you'll do whatever you have to do to look after her.
"Oh, Brittany. Is it your grandma?"
"Huh?" Brittany's confusion has you confused.
"You lost someone... a woman?"
"What are you talking about?" Brittany suddenly sounds a lot less distressed and whilst that's surely a good thing you're not one hundred percent certain you're actually awake or having a very realistic dream. Cause, what the fuck?
"Uh."
"I lost Daphne!"
"Who the fuck is Daphne?"
"Santana!"
"What?" You've long since stopped dressing and can feel your frustration rising as you kick the shoe you were going to put on into your dresser, hurting your toe in the process. "Ow! Fuck!"
"Santana, are you hurt? What happened?"
"Britt, please," you begin to beg. "Tell me who Daphne is before I have to commit myself."
"Daphne Duck! You gave her to me yesterday."
The duck. The fucking duck.
You don't know whether to sigh in relief or scream for having been woken up for this.
"Is it in your bag? I'm pretty sure Quinn picked it up for you last night."
"Oh, hang on." You hear rustling, a door slamming, a zip and another, small, sheepish "Oh."
"Find it?"
"Her? Yeah," a small clearing of her throat, "yeah I found her. Sorry, San. I just felt so bad and I would have pretended everything was fine if it was anybody else and then panicked to you about it, but you're both of those people in this situation and the Santana of the you won out."
Your recently-woken brain takes a second to process. "It's fine, Britt. As long as she's safe," you find yourself smiling despite yourself. That stupid duck.
"Yeah, she seems fine. A little hungover though," you swear you hear the smile in her voice.
"Poor Daphne, she should take it easy in the future."
"She says she was celebrating, it can't be helped."
"Sure, sure," you drawl, wanting to laugh at the state Brittany must be in. "I left some ibuprofen the last time I was at yours, it's in your bottom drawer near your bed I think."
"Thanks, San. That'll make me, erm, I mean Daphne feel better in no time."
"Yeah, I'm sure it will," you can't help chuckling.
"Speaking of ladies, what's going on with Quinn?"
"Nice segue."
"I don't own a Segway."
"You know what I meant."
"I couldn't possibly," she deadpans.
"Shut up. She's taking me on a date, alright. Happy now?"
"Very. You're so giving in the morning."
"You should see me at night."
"Santana, you have a girlfriend now. Don't go teasing me like that."
"She is not my girlfriend."
"But you wouldn't mind if she was."
"I think I'd need to know her a little better for that."
"Good thing you're going on a date then, huh?"
"Hmm."
"Glad you agree with me."
You roll your eyes at her and will for said eye roll to be sent to her telepathically.
"Don't roll your eyes at me."
"Wait. That worked?"
"Did what work?"
"Nothing, never mind." You shake your head at yourself.
"Well let me know how it goes and look after your heart, Santana. Cause I can only do so much and Quinn looks kind of strong, I don't know if I'd want to fight her."
Laughing at the absurdity of the image of Quinn and Brittany in a fight you reassure Brittany that you'll try your best and with that you say your love yous and goodbyes, promising as always to speak soon.
After a short nap and suddenly finding it to be the afternoon you hop in the shower to freshen up and get last night off of you. When you're finally out and towel-clad, you reach for your phone and see you have a missed call from Quinn. Despite your sudden onset of nerves, you call her back.
She answers on the third ring with an out-of-breath, "Hello?"
"Hey, Quinn. It's Santana."
"Yeah, I knew that it was you I just," you hear clattering on the other end of the phone and pull it back from your ear with a grimace, "... work and the whole thing is a mess."
"Sorry, I missed that with all the, I don't even know what that was. Where are you?"
"I'm at work. I work at the theatre now and," you hear more clattering, "Daniel can you actually do your job and not drop that again, please? Actually, just leave it, I'll do it. Sorry, hey. Are you still there?"
"Me? Yeah, I'm here."
"It's all just a bit hectic at the moment. I rang earlier and left my phone down here, I rushed to-" her words are taut. You can practically feel the stress radiating through the phone.
"Hey, it's okay. I just wanted to call back and check in? Maybe arrange something?"
"Oh, yes. Of course. That's why I was calling actually, I was thinking as soon as you can really? I have work most days but I have breaks and you know, when I finish work. Like other people do." You hear a faint smacking sound. "Ignore me, obviously you know people finish work and have time to do things. I don't know what I'm saying. And honestly, I don't know what I'm doing. Can we start this again?"
You're so tempted to tease Quinn for sounding a bit of a mess but you decide against it and instead opt for a simple, "Yes." To which Quinn promptly ends the call and has you saying aloud, "What the fuck?"
Not a few seconds later is your phone ringing again and you see Quinn is calling you.
Deciding to play along, you answer with a, "Hello?"
"Hi, Santana. It's Quinn."
"Oh, Quinn. Hi! I was wondering when you'd call."
"You did? Well, I'm so glad I caught you because I was wondering if we could arrange this date I asked you on."
"Wow, straight to the point. I like that."
"You do? Consider it noted."
"So, when's this date happening?"
You play with a loose thread on your towel and wander around your bedroom about three seconds from diving onto your bed to kick your legs and twirl your hair. Too bad you don't have an old school landline. Calls like this could really benefit from a cord.
"I- I hadn't thought that far ahead. I wasn't sure you'd say yes to be honest. But I'm glad you did, don't get me wrong."
"Okay, chill out. Are you free tomorrow?"
"Now that you mention it, I totally am. Do you even like coffee?"
"I actually kind of love it."
"Wow, what a coincidence because I do too."
"Really?"
"Erm, no. I'm more of a tea person."
"Yeah, thought so."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Do you have a preferred place? I am as free as a bird at the moment, studying aside. I can work around you."
"Can you now?" Her voice dips and you click your tongue.
"I think we both know the answer to that." She laughs softly down the phone.
"Okay, okay. I know a place, its right by the theatre actually so I can come straight after work."
"You said you work there, right? What happened to investment banking?"
"Change of heart. What can I say? But its temporary, I'm in a, let's say, transitional period in my life."
"Transitional, huh? What do you do there?"
"I'm helping my friend out with the stage management and doing odd jobs and stuff like that. It'd probably totally bore you."
"No, no. I mean, do you do any heavy lifting?"
She sighs on the other end of the phone. "Some and fuck, you've just reminded me. Daniel dropped the fucking- y'know what. Not important."
You ignore her to focus on the key information she'd just given you. "So what you're saying is that you work up a sweat at this gig? Any chance I'd get to see you in action?"
Choosing to ignore you in turn she hums, "Can I text you the place's address and we make it about five pm?"
Smiling down the phone you say, "Sure."
"Okay, cool."
"Cool? I didn't know you knew what was cool, grandma."
Quinn's scandalised gasp has you regretting the words immediately and now you're the one sweating.
"You dick!" She, thankfully, laughs again.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good rest of your day and stop slacking!"
"Right you are. See you, Santana."
"See you."
If anyone could see the pure cheese that was your grin right now you don't even think you'd feel embarrassed. So you're kind of smitten. So what? You just hope you're not building your hopes up for nothing.
The bell above the door rings as you push your way through, searching the tables for where Quinn is sat.
"You're late."
"I promise it was an accident." You wince as you turn toward the woman sat at the table nearest the window.
"I'm messing with you. It has barely been five minutes."
"Still, sorry." She shakes her head at you as you go to slide into the seat opposite hers, stopping just before you do to ask. "Have you ordered?"
"No, I thought I'd wait to see what you wanted."
"It's okay, I'll get it whilst I'm up." You say as you stand fully.
"Barely, you almost just sat down."
"But did I? No. So, what do you want?"
"I asked you on the date, let me get it."
"Quinn, I swear to all that is mighty. Please, I can get a coffee and a tea. Maybe even a cake if you're well behaved."
"Well behaved? How did you know my middle name?"
You scoff and roll your eyes, "Got a regular ole jokester over here, huh? What do you want?"
She smiles at you in a way that has your insides flipping and you take a breath to settle yourself, hoping you're subtle about it as you watch her watch you - which is totally not helping the situation, by the way.
"I'll just have a regular tea with almond milk, please."
"Well picked. I'll be," you point to the stupidly close counter, "just over there."
"So far away? How will I cope?"
"You'll figure it out."
Ordering your drinks you eye the desert menu and wonder what Quinn would like. Sure, you could just ask her, but where was the fun in that? She may hate it, she may love it. Either way, it's a win. Hates it means more for you. Loves it means brownie points. Ugh, perfect! Brownie is a universal piece of gooey goodness. God, how long has it been since you've let a brownie pass your lips?
"Would you like anything else?" The cashier asks and jolts you out of your reverie.
"Can I get two brownies, please?"
"Sure, no problem."
"Thanks," the drool potential is real.
Oh no, what if Quinn has been watching you? Now that's embarrassing. Is she watching now? Ha. What are you thinking?
You spare a glance over your shoulder and find her eyes on you.
With this ass of course she is.
You waltz back over to your table juggling the two drinks and brownies and manage to set them down without incident.
"Thank you, Santana."
"My pleasure, Quinn."
Taking the cup into your hands you blow over the rim and watch as Quinn does the same, though you daren't take a sip for fear of burning your mouth and making yourself look like an idiot when you inevitably spill it.
"Where do we start?" You begin, hoping to get the ball rolling. Any direction will do.
"We could start with you. How are you? What have you been up to?"
"I've been good, I mean I've been stressed too of course but it's part and parcel with the whole wanting to be a lawyer thing. Other than studying and looking for places it's been rather, what's the word? Uneventful. Actually, scrap that. Last week, Britt and I did one of those geocache hunt things." You feel laughter bubbling in your chest as you recall your misadventure. "It was all Brittany, she'd been telling all about how we could find something really cool and fuck me," you can't help the laughter now as you start to picture her face when, "she realised about five hours-"
"Five hours!" Quinn laughs too.
"Five goddamn hours, Quinn!" Tears begin prickling your vision. "She realised five hours in that she wasn't even using the right app. Her face killed me, I was so mad at first but you should have seen her. And I've never known Brittany to sulk, but holy shit did she sulk. Full toddler pout and everything," you wipe your eyes. "She's going to kill me. She swore me to secrecy, but she spilled about me so I consider us even."
"Sounds fun," Quinn smiles.
"God, yeah, five hours of trekking around the city. Such fun," you drolly comment. "Well that's me and my adventures."
"You said you were moving?"
"Oh, yeah. Britt and I are moving in together, it just makes sense."
"Are you sure you're not dating?"
You laugh at this and shake your head. "Quinn," you motion a cross over your chest, "cross my heart, I swear we're not dating. And don't think I forgot your little jealous spout the other night."
"Jealous? I was not!"
"Hmm, yeah. Pull the other one whilst you're at it." She bites her lips and dips her head to softly laugh. "So what about you? What has Miss Quinn Fabray been up to to land herself in the big city?"
Her eyes meet yours again and she breaks a bit of her brownie off and pops it in her mouth to think over her answer.
"Let's see," she looks out of the window for a second longer and then sits back, shoulders back and levels with you. The eye contact is kind of unnerving and a turn on, you can't lie. "I think I should start with the big, big stuff. Like," she pauses again. "Dammit," she looks away.
"You're making me nervous," you chuckle anxiously.
"Sorry, sorry. I, okay, okay. Breathe, Quinn." She mutters, glancing back up to you and resuming her prior posture. "I am a bit gay after all."
"Oh," you respond, unsure how to respond at all. "Am I..." you let the words die before they even leave your lips.
"Shocker, no?" She jokes. She goes on to tell you about how after ending things with your father that she found herself at a crossroads, her life turned upside down and the feeling which she can only describe as freefalling through life consumed her. It wasn't a sudden realisation, obviously the tryst she had with you had clued her in some, but to live ignorantly was to live blissfully. Until she could admit she wasn't happy with that kind of bliss anymore. Ever since Quinn was little she's had an affinity for theatre, having gone her whole life and dreamed of working in the arts. Of course, life doesn't always happen how we want it to. She'd fell into banking right out of Yale and had let her art ambitions fall to the wayside. Although, as proven by the current job she has, she'd kept in touch with her theatre friends from college and has connections where she needs them now that she's changing career paths. Changing careers and uprooting her life to pursue a new one. A truer one.
"That's really brave, Quinn."
"It's scary is what it is." She clasps her hands together on top of the table, your drinks long since gone cold.
Placing your hands on top of them you make sure she's looking at you when you say, "Really fucking brave. You'll find your thing, you'll be just fine."
"Promise?" She half-jokes, but her eyes hold a lot of uncertainty.
"Promise." You say so surely that you surprise yourself. You believe the words and the small wobble of her chin and the tears that brim her eyes tell you she believes you too. Or at least wants to believe you. "Shall we get out of here?"
"Yeah."
Holding the door open for the other woman she gives you a quiet thanks and promptly takes your hand as you follow her over the threshold.
"Where to?" You ask with a squeeze of her hand.
"Your place or mine?"
Laughing you reply with a, "Very funny."
"I'm not joking."
You stop in your tracks, pulling Quinn to a stop with you.
"You're not joking?"
"I have very innocent intentions, I promise."
"I don't know, Quinn. I don't think you're capable of innocent intentions."
She presses a hand to her heart. "You wound me."
You shrug, continuing to walk with your hands still linked.
"Fine. We can go to yours. I worry what you might think of me if you saw my apartment right now." Also, you totally want a good snoop around a one, Miss Quinn Fabray's, home.
"Mine it is. Come on, it's not too far."
The woman tells no lies. Not ten minutes later you're arriving at her building and heading up to her floor.
"Damn Quinn, you could wake up literally eleven minutes before work and still make it on time. Consider me extremely jealous."
"Envious."
"What?"
"Nothing."
You squint at her as she unlocks her door. "Okay, nerd."
She scoffs a laugh as she pushes the door open and holds it with her hand, gesturing for you to go first.
"What a gentlewoman. First date and brings me home and everything."
"Please, sit down and I'll get us some refreshments." She walks into what you assume is her kitchen and calls to you. "Can I interest you in a water? A lemonade perhaps?"
"A glass of your finest, if you would."
"Coming up."
Whilst Quinn is occupied you scope the place out. It's very, hmm, eclectic. Lots of books, pictures with other blonde people in them, a few candles, and neat pieces of art. And oh, lots of plants. Where'd she even find this many plants? Okay, maybe you're exaggerating. They're cute. And hey, who can hate clean air?
"Excuse the plants," Quinn says as she comes in holding two glasses of red wine. "I'm babysitting for my neighbour. First day I moved in he was going on vacation and asked me to look after them."
"That is so sus, Quinn." You say as you begin a closer inspection of said plants. "He could have put cameras in these. You don't undress in here do you?"
"I mean, I live alone so I undress wherever I like."
You're not surprised that this statement gives you food for thought, but consider your previous train of thought thoroughly lost on the track to nowhere.
"Would you like to sit or are you going to keep standing there in silence?"
"Oh," you sit, knees facing toward her, ass on the edge of the seat.
"This is awkward now isn't it?"
"A little," she groans and covers her face with one hand, "no, no, don't do that." You sit back and pull her hand away. "Just, I don't know," you look around the apartment, looking for something, anything. Then, a thought strikes you. "Let's shake it out."
"What?" She looks at you as though you've grown another head.
"Yeah, come on." You stand and hold your hands out for her to take and pull her up.
"What are we doing?" She giggles nervously.
"Shaking it out?"
"Oh no, don't say it like that. Now I'm scared you don't know what you're doing."
"Puh-lease. I always know what I'm doing." You move from foot-to-foot, taking short breaths to build the courage to absolutely make a fool out of yourself. If this goes to shit you're blaming Brittany. "Okay, so just," you bounce on your toes a little, "loosen up. Jump around. Go crazy."
"Santana, are you serious?"
God, if you're out there, please help me. You pray.
"Yes, Quinn. Please humour me." Just as you're about to begin you hold up a hand.
"What?"
"Music. We're missing music. You have a speaker right?"
"Yes," she says tentatively, pointing to a docking station.
"Perfection, one sec." And not a few seconds later, the music taste of the gods is flowing through Quinn's speakers. "Okay, let's go." You take her hands and start moving until she joins you. At first she's stiff and self-conscious but you soon have her laughing so hard she's almost keeling over.
Coming to Quinn's you really did not expect to be working up a sweat like this. But fuck, it's kind of fun to act stupid. And maybe your inner teenager kind of likes it every time you make Quinn laugh by doing some outrageous move that you most certainly learnt from Brittany and her friends.
"Santana!" Ah, you've reached the point of getting carried away and find yourself falling, falling, falling.
With a yelp you fall into the fern behind you and smash the pot it lives in, landing on your ass with a solid thud.
It goes quiet for a second as you look at each other. Quinn with a look of disbelief and you with horror.
"Tell that guy I'll buy him another one."
And then she's laughing again and falling to her knees to settle beside you, her laugh infectious and smile so, just so, so... You kiss her. She's laughing but you kiss her anyway and it goes quiet again.
When you pull away her lips follow yours and you stop so she can meet your mouth again.
Your mouths have had this dance before and oh, you can tell. It's scary just how familiar, how natural it feels to kiss Quinn like this. You're breathless when she breaks away and now it's you who follows her. She pecks your lips and then pulls back completely.
"We should take this slow." The words make you ache with want. They mean she's thinking about doing what you're thinking about doing. Talk about mental synchronicity.
The "Yeah," that slips from your lips is barely a breath and you're leaning up to recapture her lips.
"San," she whispers against them and your eyes flutter open to meet her gaze. "We should go on another date and maybe a few more before we," her eyes dip and her lips brush against yours, "before we go any further."
The words make you smile. With a soft kiss you put some space between you both. "I can respect that." She bites her lip and you squeeze your legs closed. "I suppose you were telling the truth."
"About what?"
"Innocent intentions," you say with a lot more timbre than you'd intended, but you can't help the things she does to you. Even when she's not touching you.
"Maybe. Or I'm just making it known early on who the boss is here." She smirks and you both chuckle.
"The boss, huh?" God, you wish she'd kiss you again.
"Yes." And then she gets this glint in her eye and her lips twitch. "Maybe you should start calling me-"
"You're not going to make me call you 'Mommy' are you?"
"I mean," she shrugs and you hope she's joking.
"Still a sore spot, Quinn," you joke narrowing your eyes at her and crossing your arms.
She pokes at your leg, "I'm kidding."
"Yeah, thought so."
"So dramatic." She uses your thigh for leverage as she stands. "Want to watch a movie or do something else that's PG?"
"I guess," you begin, "but maybe we could change the rating to a twelve for some light making-out during?"
"I'm okay with that."
It's really hard to not smile around her. "Nice."
"Nice," she repeats, amusement lacing her voice.
To both of your credits, you do manage to keep it strictly twelve despite the temptation to take it further. And when you eventually leave it's the same day, having not stayed over after being thoroughly satisfied by the other woman. Nevertheless, it was a good and hopeful end to your first official date, the ones that will follow seeming all that more promising.
"Bye," she'd uttered against your lips.
"Bye," you'd leant back from her, but she still held on to one of your wrists as you stood in the corridor.
"Call me?" She'd asked, body leaning against the frame of her front door.
"Yes." You'd answered, planting another, smaller kiss on her gorgeously pink lips.
Lying in your bed later that night you pick up your phone and dial her number.
"Hello?"
"Hey," you grin down the phone.
"You're up late."
"So are you."
"When can I see you again?"
"When are you free?"
And she gave you a day and you went on that date and the next three without so much as a squeeze of flesh over clothes. Whilst it wouldn't have been unwelcome, you have also enjoyed just spending time with the other woman. She's incredibly smart, charming and, of course, beautiful. You find yourself wondering if you're rushing in with things, but then you see her again and your world is made all that brighter and exciting.
You're kind of scared you might already be a little bit in love with her.
A/N: You may have gathered from the chapter's title that this was going in a different kind of direction than it did. I was well and truly caught by the fluff trap. So cheesy! Next chapter is from Quinn's perspective (that's the plan at least), should be interesting lollllllll. Thanks as always and til next time!