Sorry, forgot to mention that this story won't include Beth.
If there are mistakes, charge it to my head not my heart.
-RCV
Quinn and Santana got comfortable on the floor while Rachel relaxed on her bed. Quinn knew Santana wouldn't want to start, so she decided to start with the end of the school year, the weekend where things somewhat fell apart while falling into place.
"Do you know what happened between Santana and Brittany?"
"I got the impression there was cheating and something dealing with Finn. I don't really care about why you broke up," Rachel said honestly. "Brittany and I don't have the best relationship."
"Since when?"
Rachel looked down at her cover before she looked at Quinn, "Can you skip to the point, please?" she asked.
The two mentally held onto the fact Rachel dodged the question about Brittany, and Quinn cleared her throat.
"I'll just stick to the basics. Santana and I got drunk at a Halloween party Puck hosted the year you were in Seattle. We were single, angry, and some things were said that we conveniently forgot about."
"I know all about what happens at Puck's Halloween parties," Rachel muttered, glancing at Santana.
"Quinn knows about it," Santana said. "I kind of had to tell her."
"I'm not mad, well, not in the way you think," Quinn said.
Rachel cocked her head. "What way am I thinking?" she asked.
"I can't figure you out," Santana blurted.
"Pardon?"
"One moment you're flirting with us, and the next you're afraid of us. What gives?" Santana asked.
"I can ask you the same thing."
Santana didn't have a response to that.
"Look, after the Halloween party, San and I kind of drifted apart. It wasn't until May did we kind of...come back together. It was the first day out of school. I was worried about Santana and I went to her house to check on her."
"San? You in here?"
Quinn trekked through the empty house. She knew Mr. Lopez would be at work where he always was. She put down the bag of snacks she'd brought over, hoping for a girl's night in like they used to, and sighed when she heard loud music. As she walked up the stairs, she found Santana's room was empty. She looked down the hall and saw a door closed, and the room was one that Quinn knew all too well. She tried the doorknob, but it didn't open. Then she heard breaking glass. Quinn brought her shoulder into the wood, and the door gave. She tumbled inside and found Santana standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by broken glass. There was a picture of a beautiful woman on the wall, untouched, and Santana was facing away from it with her hands on her hips and eyes closed. Quinn took in the state of the former study turned rage space, and was happy that most of the furniture remained intact.
"You haven't been in here in a while," Quinn said hesitantly.
"My father wants to convert it into a gym," Santana said blandly.
"I see."
Santana opened her eyes and turned to Quinn. "Why are you here?" she asked.
"I wanted to see if you were down for a girl's night in? I know we haven't exactly been talking, but I figured since school was over we could-
"Pretend like nothing happened?" Santana finished.
"San, I miss you," Quinn confessed. "I miss you and I want to fix us."
Santana walked through the glass and came up to Quinn. She ran a hand through her hair and said, "My Dad won't be home tonight."
Quinn smiled. "Okay," she said.
"And you can probably spend the night," Santana said. "I feel like this isn't a one night type of conversation we need to have."
"Probably not."
Santana eyed Quinn suspiciously. "You have snacks already, don't you?" she asked.
"Yes, and I ordered pizza while I was driving. He should be here in like twenty minutes."
"He? Since when do you know the pizza boy?"
"It's Puck," Quinn murmured. "He got a job to pay off his truck so he could stop asking his Dad for money. He's also the only one who's willing to come to your house, apparently."
"Yeah, I know. I got a note from several other delivery drivers, who ironically go to McKinley, who said out of solidarity for their brother, they won't be dropping food off to my house anymore."
"Can they do that?"
"Ask the Chinese restaurant I ordered from twice and never got my food," Santana deadpanned.
Quinn rubbed her chest at the weird feeling spreading through her body and said, "I'm sorry, San."
"It's fine. I knew there would be consequences for my actions. Speaking of which…" she trailed off and frowned. "I know she called you again."
"I didn't answer."
"Did she leave a voicemail?"
"Why do you care?"
"The last voicemail she left was of her masturbating and moaning my name," Santana said wearily. "I was curious if she did the same for you or if you got a different type of greeting."
"She- wow. Really?" Quinn made a face. "That's a little-
"Weird? Creepy? Depraved?"
"All of the above."
Santana hummed in agreement. In the seconds of silence that followed, that weird feeling spread through Quinn's chest again as Santana looked her up and down. She felt her face heating up and Santana snapped out of whatever trance she was in.
"Sorry. I was thinking this is the first time I've seen you out of uniform in months. You look good."
"Oh. Thank you."
"What did you get from the store?" Santana asked, changing the subject.
"You mean did I get you Sour Patch Kids?" Quinn guessed.
Santana folded her arms, looking away for a moment before she said, "If you didn't, that's fine, but if you did, that's fine too."
"I got your damn candy, Santana."
"Did you get the watermelon kind or the regular kind?"
Quinn rolled her eyes and walked out of the room into the hallway. "You're unbelievable," she said.
"That was a serious question," Santana countered, following her out of the room. "You know I don't like the watermelon kind."
"Which should tell you I got the regular kind. I know what you like and don't like."
"I guess."
"Fuck off," Quinn sighed.
"Whoa, what's with the attitude?"
Quinn winced. She couldn't tell Santana that Mr. Schue caught up with her earlier that day and begged her to convince Santana to come back to the Glee Club while simultaneously excusing Finn and Brittany's behavior. On top of that, Sam tried blackmailing Quinn into doing the same thing and was severely disappointed when all Quinn did was walk away. All of it happened when Santana was either with Sue or in a different part of the school, but still, it was annoying.
"Earth to Quinn!"
She blinked. She was downstairs and standing in the kitchen. Then she noticed Santana's proximity, and the brown eyes boring into hers made her weak in the knees. She played it off by leaning against the island. Those pouted lips curled downward did something to Quinn's insides and she wasn't sure she was ready to have that conversation.
"Huh?" she stammered, shaking off whatever was happening to her.
"I asked if you wanted a beer."
"What kind?" she asked automatically, knowing Santana drank the worst kind of beer.
"I have some Modelo in the fridge. I asked my Dad to get some because I know how much you hate my Sapporo."
"Still weird your Dad buys alcohol for you."
"It's his way of making sure I don't tell people that he abandons me for days at a time," Santana said, shrugging.
"Oh."
Santana grabbed Quinn's hand, tugging her in the direction of the fridge. "Just come on. If we're doing this, then we need to hurry up because I want to watch Cold Case," she said.
Quinn glanced down at the intertwined fingers and cataloged the way their hands molded together, but she would be lying to herself if she didn't feel as if something was missing. It was like they were half-right, but not wholly right. Sighing, she tightened her grip and willingly let Santana drag her around.
They made it halfway through the first episode when Puck dropped off the pizza. He didn't stay long, but he did say he would stop by the next day and hang out. And by the time Quinn was on her fourth beer and sixth slice of pizza, she was stuffed and sprawled out on the floor with Santana lighting a blunt beside her. She didn't know where the weed came from, but she was grateful.
"Do you want to know why I'm so mad at Brittany?" Santana suddenly asked.
Quinn blinked and rolled over on her side, facing the slightly glazed over eyes of her friend and said, "Sure."
"Because I told her in advance that it took a lot for me to trust and love someone the way that I loved her, and she threw it back in my face while throwing it back for Finn."
"Gross."
"What? You were there, you saw it."
"Been trying to forget it, honestly," Quinn muttered.
"Me too, but I can't. I keep seeing it in my head late at night and sometimes during the day. I keep watching him thrust into her over and over again, sometimes I'm just standing there, and I don't do anything. I feel frozen to the spot watching the same thing over and over again."
Quinn frowned at the pain in her words and reached over, putting her hand on Santana's shoulder. "Sweetheart, you can't keep doing that to yourself. You'll never move on if you keep thinking about it," she said.
"Have you moved on? Plus, what's there for me to move on to? Brittany was supposed to be it for me, my perfect match, or whatever she used to say to me. Now," Santana sighed, "now, I don't know."
Quinn sat up and scooted closer, moving the leftover pizza that was between them. She wrapped an arm around Santana's shoulder and said, "She isn't the only lesbian in the world, you know."
"Yeah, but she's the only one in Lima, and I don't want to be lonely for the next year and a half. I've been with her since the end of freshman year. We'll be seniors next year and I'll be alone for the first time."
"One, you won't be alone. Two, who said she's the only lesbian in Lima?" Quinn asked quietly
Santana snorted. "Yeah, right. Who else is there?"
Quinn sighed and dropped her arm, wrapping it around her knees. Santana stared at her profile, questioning without really saying anything, and Quinn told her the truth.
"I'm gay, Santana. I have been for a while now. I'm just really good at hiding it."
Santana frowned."Wait, what about Puck and Finn and-
"Puck and I pretended to date so he could up his popularity. I got free food and weed from it, so it was whatever. Finn was a mistake, one I regret every day."
"You're not alone in that one," Santana said under her breath. Louder, she said, "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Look, I was going to tell you, but I didn't know how."
"Hmm. I get it. I didn't tell you until I absolutely had too, so no biggie," Santana cut in, waving her off. "I'm just shocked that little Miss holier-than-thou is actually down for a little bump and grind of the feminine kind."
Quinn blinked and said, "Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?"
Santana shrugged. "It's a gift."
Quinn was about to call her out on her bullshit when Santana lunged forward and kissed her square on the lips. It was short, soft, and over before Quinn could catch her footing.
"I- what- why?" she sputtered.
"I just wanted to make sure you weren't trying to make me feel better or anything."
"You- wait, you thought I was lying to you!" Quinn shouted. "Seriously!"
"That's a fair concern for me."
"I don't love you that much," Quinn huffed, getting off the floor. She wavered for a bit before she stumbled into the kitchen for a bottle of water. "I swear if you weren't hot, I'd punch you dead in your face right now."
Santana came up behind her and stopped, a weird look on her face. She cocked her head and said, "Did you just call me hot?"
Quinn choked on the water she'd just opened and held up her finger, clearing her airways so that she could breathe. "I, uh, no," she lied.
"You so did."
"Okay, fine, I did. So what?"
"I dunno. I've always been called hot, but when you say it, it feels different."
"How?"
"Probably because it's you and you don't say things you don't mean. Not including the obvious from earlier."
"I don't know what that means," Quinn said.
Santana reached out, pulling Quinn close by the hem of her shirt. There was a brief pause by both of them, each one testing to see who would back down first, but neither one did. Quinn put down her water bottle and swallowed the nerves roaring in her throat. Their lips met like before, soft and sweet, then it became rough and bruising, each one trying to gain dominance over the other. They tripped and stumbled their way back into the living room. They fell back on the couch and Cold Case became background noise to soft moans and whispered please.
The next morning, they wouldn't say anything to each other. Quinn would leave and Santana would watch her go. They cried themselves to sleep without the other. They felt warm lips tracing over their bodies with thoughts of the other. They stood under the spray of the shower water with nimble fingers hoping to relieve the growing tension between their thighs.
But it wouldn't work.
They would miss each other for weeks, and it wouldn't be until a Fourth of July party for them to recognize that whatever happened with them that night nearly two months ago wasn't going to go away.
Quinn finished telling their story. She belatedly realized Santana was beside her, swiping away at the tears streaming down her face, but she smiled at a clearly upset Rachel.
"It sounded way worse than what it was, but that's really the summary of what happened between us," she said.
Rachel shook her head and cleared her throat, playing with the edge of her cover. "But…what does that have to do with the Glee club or me?" she asked softly.
"What Quinn neglected to expound on was that she and I may have been in a relationship, but we both were hiding a very dangerous secret from one another that could have blown up in our faces had we not talked it out."
"Dangerous?" Rachel repeated.
"She's making it sound much more ominous than it needs to be," Quinn grumbled. "It wasn't dangerous, just extremely sensitive."
"The same thing," Santana said breezily.
"Does this secret have to remain a secret, or are you going to tell me?" Rachel said, a little annoyed.
"Ah, right. That is why we came up here, isn't it?" Santana sighed. "There is no easy way to say this, though," she added right after.
"It's harder than any cheer routine we've done."
"Harder than any exercise Coach put us through."
"Harder than any family bible study I've had to sit through."
"Will you just tell me?" Rachel exclaimed, exasperated with their stalling.
Santana looked at Quinn, who shrugged and gestured towards Rachel, and Santana snorted at the action.
"You would make me confess it. Again."
"You're so good at it."
"How in the world am I supposed to just blurt out, again, that I'm in love with Rachel?" Santana asked, pretending not to hear the shocked gasp that left Rachel's lips.
"How do you expect me to admit the same thing?" Quinn huffed, her lips curling a little at the ploy pulled off by Santana.
The two pretended to be caught off guard when Rachel's voice strayed into the high-pitched territory as she screeched, "Are you fucking kidding me?"