It's not every day Santana Lopez wakes up to a big cat called Freddie sitting at the end of her bed, but when she does, she screams. She pulls herself up and stares at the cat, who wasn't fazed by her weak attempt at a scream, and stares right back at her.

"What the fuck! Again?" Freddie doesn't move, only meows at her which Santana takes as an acknowledgement of yes, again. It feels like the first time she met him, because she's just as surprised as she was when she saw him in her kitchen a week ago, but this time she's less cautious because Freddie is a nice cat. She thinks this is Quinn's idea of a prank but then disregards the idea because they don't know each other well enough to be playing pranks and Quinn doesn't seem like the pranking kind.

"How do you keep on getting in here? I triple locked my door!" Freddie moves in a way that Santana thinks looks like a shrug and makes his way up the bed towards her and settles right next to her, silently asking for pets. Santana complies and starts stroking him, her heart melting when he curls up into a ball and starts purring. But she will never admit that to anyone.

It's ten minutes later when Santana reaches for her phone from the bedside and texts Quinn. It's nine-thirty on a Wednesday morning, meaning Quinn's probably got classes and wont reply as soon as Santana wants her to. They hadn't seen each other since a few nights ago at Santana's place because Quinn had classes and Santana had been juggling making the finishing touches on her apartment and spending time with Rachel and her merry gang of Broadway nerds before she went back to work. Not that she didn't want to spend time with Quinn, but how do you even ask a woman you're interested in to hang out these days?

To Quinn: hey, your sneaky cat is in my apartment again. Idk how he got in here but I don't mind cat sitting for the day

Santana figures Quinn isn't going to reply straight away if she's in professor mode, so gently pries herself off the bed, so as to not disturb a sleeping Freddie and makes her way to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Of course, when she's plating her sausages Freddie comes running into the kitchen and uses his cute little kitten eyes to make Santana give him some, then runs back to her bedroom, content with a full stomach.

Santana cleans her plates away and makes her way towards the bathroom, passing her bedroom to see Freddie curled up in the same place as before and shakes her head and laughs. Who else can say they've had a morning like hers?

It's when she gets out of the shower twenty minutes later that she checks her phone, remembering that she text Quinn a while ago.

From Quinn: wtf, again? Don't be silly, I'll be there in 15 (:

Santana gasps because that text was sent twenty minutes ago and she's only in a thin robe, her hair is wet, and Quinn is going to be here any minute. Santana makes a start towards her bedroom to change into something more presentable but is interrupted by a few light taps at her door. Fuck.

Santana checks herself over in the mirror quickly, deciding she doesn't look that bad and makes her way over to the door. She opens the door slowly to a smiling Quinn, and nearly doubles over because Professor Fabray in her power suit is so unbelievably hot. If she were paying attention to Quinn's face and not her body, then she would've noticed that Quinn has had a similar reaction to seeing her in a robe and is struggling to mask her inner turmoil and not jump Santana at the door.

Santana struggles to mutter a quick hey, but Quinn is a much better actress and seems composed when she says hi back and enters the apartment when Santana moves out of the way. The air seems thick and awkward because they're both just staring at each other wondering if each other has noticed the insane amount of sexual tension until Quinn asks, "where is he?"

Santana clears her throat and motions to Quinn to follow her to the bedroom. She wishes she were following her for an entirely different reason but quickly shifts her focus to a still sleeping Freddie who is now curled up on Santana's pillow. Santana hears Quinn sigh behind her at the adorable sight and allows the blonde to make her way over to Freddie and gently wake him up. Santana watches silently from the door way as Freddie immediately recognises Quinn's presence and places himself on her lap.

"He must think your bed is very comfortable for him to break in again and have a nap." Quinn says to Santana, who's leaning on the frame of the door. Santana isn't sure what her tone means.

"Got to have a good mattress when you're a doctor. Sleep is everything," she tells her. "It comes in handy for other things as well." She jokes and watches as Quinn lets out a chuckle and notices that her cheeks turn slightly red.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Santana laughs and makes her way over to the bed to sit next to Quinn, "I was talking about attracting cute kittens to cuddle in the morning." In hindsight maybe it wasn't a good idea to sit so closely to Quinn when she's wearing just a robe, because the smell of the blonde and the close proximity means all she can think about is Quinn ripping the damn thing off of her. In my dreams she thinks and focuses her attention on Freddie.

"Right," Quinn chuckles, "that's definitely what it's so good for. However, I would like to see for myself how comfortable it really is. Freddie is ever so picky." She drawls out with her tongue. Santana doesn't know if Quinn has noticed, but the tension she feels is too much and she doesn't know how the fuck she's supposed to respond to that, so she changes the subject.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your classes. I meant what I said in my text, he could've stayed here for the day until you finished."

Quinn shifts her body ever so slightly, so that their hands are just barely touching on top of Santana duvet. "Don't be sorry. I'm sorry he somehow got in here again. I'll pay for your sheets to be dry cleaned. Plus you gave me a way out of teaching sophomore classes for the rest of the day, so I owe you one. Apparently, a pet emergency gets you half a day off in Columbia."

Santana laughs and turns to face Quinn. "I'm perfectly capable of looking after a cat," she jokingly flexes her barely there muscles, much to Quinn's secret delight. "And you are not paying for dry cleaning! I'm not offended by a few cat hairs, I'll just change my sheets and put them in with my normal laundry. Still, you didn't have to rush home."

"I didn't have to, no. But would it be too forward to ask what you'd say if I said that I didn't rush home for Freddie but for the opportunity to see you? After last Friday I've been wondering when you'd text, and when you didn't I guess I was disappointed."

The blonde is looking straight into her eyes and Santana gasps silently. "I'd ask you if you wanted to come to brunch with me and ask that you forgive me for being a stranger for the past few days."

Their hands are now fully touching, and Santana can't help but focus on the sensation she feels. Quinn only smiles at her. "In that case I'd say you're forgiven and that yes, I will come to brunch with you," she points at Freddie, "but first I need to take this rascal home and get changed into something more brunch-y."

"You should keep the suit on." Santana blurts out and is met with a raised brow from Quinn.

"Why?" the blonde asks her.

"Because you look nice in it." Santana replies quickly, feeling her cheeks go warm when she realises that may have been too forward.

"In that case," Quinn replies, standing up with Freddie in her arms, "you should keep the robe on. It would only be fair." Upon seeing Santana's mouth drop open in response, Quinn throws her a hearty chuckle and makes her way back through the apartment to the front door.

"I'll meet you back out here in twenty." Quinn tells Santana, who had followed her to the front door, albeit still silent from the blonde's previous comment. She doesn't even give Santana any chance to respond before making her way across the hall and entering her own apartment, leaving the Latina awestruck at her own door.

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The café Santana takes Quinn to is small and cosy, a hidden gem away from the bustling crowds of NYC. The ride to the café was a comfortable silence, given that Santana was still trying to recover from the fact that Quinn saw her in her robe and is pretty sure that her blonde friend was flirting with her the entire time. Quinn on the other hand, had spent the ride trying not to focus on how good Santana looked in her black skinny jeans and leather jacket.

When they arrived, the waitress had seated them in the far corner of the café in a booth that was obstructed from anyone else's line of sight. Santana had ordered the club sandwich and a smoothie, Quinn had ordered bacon pancakes and a hot chocolate. It was nearing winter after all.

It's nearly ten minutes later when Quinn speaks, both of them had just been enjoying each other's company after the waitress had taken their orders.

"I have a question for you." Quinn starts.

Santana raises her eyebrows and nods. "Shoot."

"If Freddie hadn't made an appearance in your bedroom this morning, would you have called or texted me?"

Caught off guard by the question, Santana can't get any words out and stares at the blonde with her mouth half open.

"It's okay if you weren't going to. I just thought after Friday night we had made a connection and I wanted to hang out more." Quinn admits honestly, her face falling slightly.

Santana reaches out for Quinn's hand unexpectedly and feels Quinn tense a little when she grips it softly. "I wanted to. I mean, I would have eventually. But Quinn, I'm lame and I'm awkward and I've had the same friends since high school so I don't really know how to act around new people."

"I told you not to be a stranger," Quinn says softly, "you asked me to come around last Friday. Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" Santana replies quickly. "You did nothing wrong. I enjoyed Friday night, I loved getting to know you. It's not just you that felt the connection. It's just… I'm sure you caught on to the fact that I used to have a girlfriend which means I obviously like girls and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by asking you to hang out."

"I was waiting for you to confirm that rather than assuming, actually, but yes." Quinn replies. "Why would that make me uncomfortable? Did you not listen to what I just said?" She laughs quietly. "I told you not to be a stranger."

Santana scrunches her eyebrows in a way that Quinn thinks is the cutest thing she's ever seen. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that I know you like girls and it doesn't bother me because I do too. I'm saying that I know we haven't known each other for more than two weeks but I felt a connection on Friday and I wanted to know if you felt it too."

"I'm sorry," Santana shakes her head and chuckles to herself, "you're-"

"Gay?" Quinn finishes for her. "Yes. God Santana, even if I weren't, I'm pretty sure I would turn gay after I saw you. Do you know how insanely beautiful you are? I haven't stopped thinking about you since we first met."

"Quinn, I-"

"You don't have to say anything. I'm sorry if this is too forward but it's the truth and I'm not young and scared anymore. I'm telling you because I have to know if you felt it too."

"I do," Santana barely whispers in response and takes both of Quinn's hands this time. "I can't stop thinking about you. I can't think about anything else but you."

"Really?" Quinn asks her, eyes wide and gripping onto Santana's hands. Santana nods and grins at the woman in front of her.

"I think," Quinn starts, "now is the perfect time to ask if this is a date?"

"I'd really like that." Santana admits and keeps hold of Quinn's hands until the waitress brings their food over.

What is my life?