A/N: What's crack-a-lacking guys? :D I'm back! Couldn't handle being away from y'all no more. Cos you're like all awesome and shit.
It's been an…interesting reprieve (we'll ignore the fact that plotlines of my fics were constantly running through my head every day). Writing on FF has, I feel, made me a better writer because I'm getting constant feedback from you guys and it's really helpful – hope you guys know that I really do appreciate any and all criticisms :)
But now! Puckasaurus should probably fear for the squirrel taking refuge on his head ;p
So, if any of my dearly awesometastic readers out there have any ideas for a cover image for this fic (and any of my others) drop me a PM :) I have like zero artistic ability, but I'd love to see if anyone out there would be interested?
Onward and up!
-H
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(
(If I did, this whole nonsense of seasons and shit wouldn't exist – it would be a constantly running show ;p)
CHAPTER 11
She was pissed. Actually, no. She was livid. Fuckerman was done. He was dead. He'd signed his death wish. No amount of douchebagness would protect him now. Nothing that Quinn or Rachel could say would stop her from kicking the shit out of him.
One problem. She had no idea where he was. And taking time off school after having just come back from a week went against her grain. So fine. She could wait. She'd bide her time, coming up with the perfect punishment for the biggest asshole move in the history of assholes. And let's face it, history has a lot of motherfucking assholes.
"Babe, get out of your head." Rachel's voice broke Santana's inner plotting.
"Leave me and my thoughts alone, Rachel," she mumbled, looking out of Rachel's window at the poetic rain falling on the windows.
"Unfortunately for you, I'm having dinner with you and your family tonight, Santana, so you'll just have to put up with me and my annoying probing for a little longer."
Santana couldn't help the smirk the crossed her face. She really did love that Rachel's mind was stuck in the gutter just as much as hers.
"Gotcha," the cheerleader said softly, finding her hand and linking their fingers together.
"I hate how you know me so well already," Santana mumbled. She didn't have the energy to speak properly. "Stop using your Jedi mind tricks on me, Berry."
Rachel giggled and pulled into the Lopez driveway. "Trust me, my Jedi mind tricks would have had you in my bed a long time ago. I guess your mind's too strong for me."
Santana let out a reluctant chuckle. "And here I thought I was the hottest geek at McKinley."
"Oh, but you are," Rachel purred, her voice suddenly closer. "You definitely take that title hands down."
Santana turned to her girlfriend and smirked. "Hands down where?"
Rachel's eyes darkened and she matched the Latina's expression before leaning in and sucking on her bottom lip. Santana closed her eyes and responded to the kiss, letting their tongues twist deliciously with each other.
They both groaned at Santana's phone ringing.
"Si, mami?" she answered.
"Santana, you're fogging up the windows of Rachel's car. Now come inside and have dinner."
Santana's mouth dropped and she just started laughing when her mother hung up.
"What?" Rachel asked in confusion.
"My mom was spying on us and told me to stop fogging up the windows of your car."
Rachel smiled and leaned forward again. "Well, more fog would mean less prying eyes," she said seductively.
"Hmmm," Santana replied, gladly continuing their make out session.
A sharp rap on her window made them both jump and Santana hit her head on the low roof.
"Ow, fuck!" she mumbled, rolling down the window.
"Santa, you suck at keeping things on the down low," Miguel mocked. "Mami wants you inside now. She's been worried about you."
Santana huffed and opened the door. "It's not like I was the one in fucking hospital for Christ's sake."
She grabbed her bag and shut the door, automatically reaching for Rachel's hand as her girlfriend skipped around the car.
"Santana." Miguel's tone turned serious. "You really don't see how much you scared her last week. She thought she'd dealt with all the fights and trips to the hospital with us. I don't think she expected that you'd be more of a handful than all three of us put together."
"Miguel, Mami knows that I can take of myself. And I actually did know how worried she was. And I apologised many times for my lack of judgement. I'm not a headcase," she added quietly.
They reached the front door and Miguel turned around. "I know that, Santa. Out of all of us, you're the one who's gonna go places. You're gonna make something huge of your life because that's who you are. You can do anything and I think maybe Mami is scared that you won't need her anymore."
"But that's ridiculous!" Santana spluttered. "I'll always need her."
"Um, baby, if I may," Rachel interjected quietly. "Miguel may have a point. Since we got together, you've been doing everything with me. And I know that they were things you used to do with your mom. Maybe she just misses you. I mean, I was the one that took care of you last week. Who would normally have done it if I hadn't been in the picture?"
"My mom," Santana mumbled, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for neglecting her mom. She really hadn't meant to. She'd just kind of gotten wrapped up in Rachel.
Nothing else needed to be said, so Miguel opened the front door and the girls followed him. Santana dropped her bag and headed for the kitchen, ignoring her girlfriend's squeals as she was engulfed in hugs from the big Lopez men.
"Mami?" she queried softly, leaning against the wall.
Carmen glanced back from her position at the stove and smiled at her daughter. She turned back to the stove, but was facing Santana in a second again.
"Santana, qué pasa?" she asked worriedly.
"Lo siento, mami," Santana whispered. "I'm sorry that I made you worry and that I've been spending so much time with Rachel. I…I didn't mean to make you feel left out."
"Santana, don't be silly," Carmen chastised her, but pulling her close for a gently hug. "I don't pine when you're off with your girlfriend. I know you love me and I know that we'll still have our damas day out."
"Really?" Santana asked, her brow furrowing. "But Miguel said-"
"Miguel needs to mind his own business," Carmen said, shaking her head in the direction of the living room. She sighed. "I heard that you went to the hospital today. Is everything ok?"
Santana shook her head and dropped her gaze. "Quinn got hit by a cyclist. She…she got hurt pretty bad."
"Is it anything serious?" Carmen asked in fear.
Santana shrugged. "Nothing physical."
Carmen nodded in understanding and pulled her daughter back into her warm embrace. "Eres un buen amigo, mija."
Santana sighed heavily. "I was scared." She pulled away. "Mami, I don't know if I want to be a doctor," she whispered. "I'd love to help people, but I think it would be too hard for me. I…I don't let things go and loss is something that all doctors have to deal with on a regular basis."
Carmen kissed Santana's forehead. "Your capacity for caring is wonderful, mi amor. I know that whatever you decide to do with your life will make me the proudest mother in the world."
Santana blinked tears back and hugged her mother tightly.
"Te amo, mami."
"Te adoro, mija."
Rachel froze when she walked into the kitchen and saw Santana and her mother in a tight embrace. She felt a pull in her chest at the unfamiliar sight. She shook her head of the thoughts that had started to plague her mind of late and softly cleared her throat.
"Hey," Santana said softly, wiping her eyes.
"I was wondering if you needed help with anything?" Rachel asked timidly. "I feel like I eat here as much as the rest of the family, but I never do anything."
"That's because you're our guest, Rachel," Carmen replied, smiling warmly at her. Rachel couldn't help but return it. "But if you're interested, you can help me with this pollo al ajillo."
"Seriously, mami?" Santana asked excitedly, walking over to the stove. She breathed the aroma deeply and smiled. "Yummy. This is totally my favourite."
Rachel joined her and agreed that the smell was definitely intoxicating.
"What's it called again?" she asked in embarrassment.
"Pollo al ajillo," Santana said. "Basically garlic chicken, but my grandmother's recipe is the best I've ever tasted."
"Garlic, huh?" Rachel teased.
"Pffft, like that would stop you," Santana retorted with a smile.
"Girls," Carmen warned.
Rachel flushed, but Santana just grinned. The cheerleader knew that Carmen was completely fine with how open Santana was about her sexuality, but Rachel wasn't so sure that her girlfriend's mother wanted to know about her daughter's sexual appetite.
Which, unfortunately, Rachel had yet to sample. Oh, but she couldn't wait to. She took Santana's left hand and used her nail to write the number 14 on her palm. She didn't miss the resulting shiver that moved through the Latina.
Santana looked at her quizzingly and Rachel simply licked her lips seductively and raised a cocky eyebrow. Santana's eyes went wide, as did her grin when she realised what her girlfriend was counting down to. They both smothered their giggles.
"If you two are just going to stand there whispering sweet or not so sweet nothings in each other's ears instead of helping me then you can go and set the table," Carmen said, glancing at them with a smirk.
"Mami, don't be hating just cos I have way more game than you ever did," Santana smirked, ducking quickly to avoid a smart slap with the spoon that Carmen was cooking with.
"Santana, I could tell you things that would put you off intimacy for the rest of your life," Carmen said in an eerily serious voice and it kind of made Rachel think that she probably did have those stories.
"Sure, Mami," Santana teased.
"Well, there was this one time in college where I got locked in the steam room with five guys from the football team," Carmen started.
"Aaaaahhh!" Santana cried, covering her ears. "I'm blind already! Do you have to kill my hearing too? Gross."
Carmen just chuckled and Rachel winked at her to congratulate her on getting one up on her daughter – it definitely wasn't an easy feat.
Santana was still muttering to herself as she set the table.
"You're lucky," Rachel said softly, following her girlfriend around the table as they placed the cutlery.
"I know," was Santana's standard cocky reply.
"I'm serious," Rachel almost whispered. She wondered if her girlfriend really did realise how lucky she was.
"Baby?" Now her voice was concerned and she was standing in front of her, the cutlery momentarily forgotten. "Rachel what's wrong? I know something's been churning around in that head of yours, but I didn't want to push you to tell me."
Rachel took a deep breath. "You haven't met my dads yet, but they're amazing. I really feel incredibly fortunate to have two parents that love me like they do."
"But?" Santana prodded.
Rachel shrugged. "I guess these last few days, seeing you with your mom and the whole Quinn being pregnant thing," she lowered her voice for the last part, "it made me realise that I'll never have that. As gay as my dads are, there's just something about a mother-daughter relationship."
Santana's hands wrapped around Rachel's and she squeezed. "You're right, Rach," she said softly. "I wouldn't trade my mother for anything in the world. I do cherish the relationship I have with her and I know how lucky I am." She paused. "Have you tried contacting your birth mother?"
Rachel sighed. "My dads kept in touch with her. She was killed when I was six. Some drug thing."
"Oh," Santana said sympathetically, grimacing. "Do you have a picture or anything?"
Rachel nodded. "At home." She sighed again. "I know it's stupid-"
"It's not stupid, Rach," Santana said softly and Rachel couldn't help how her heart fluttered. As much as she enjoyed playful, sexy Santana, she really liked this soft, romantic, caring side of her.
The cheerleader shrugged and Santana pulled her into a tight hug.
"You can totally share my mom if you want," she said quietly into Rachel's hair and the shorter girl just held her tighter.
Brittany looked like shit. She knew she did. She'd hardly got any sleep the previous night and she hated herself for the reason.
She could not stop thinking about Santana. And she wasn't thinking about all the irritating things that she did (even though they didn't seem all that irritating anymore). She'd replayed their conversation in the hospital bathroom over and over until it was a running loop in her mind. When Santana had spoken about her family, her eyes had sparkled and Brittany had been mesmerised.
No! Not mesmerised! She was probably just about to cry or something. And we're supposed to be nice and shit, so I was…concerned. Yup, concerned.
Pierce, you are so full of shit.
Brittany rolled her eyes and wrapped up the morning practice. Rachel skipped over to her and peered at her.
"Jesus, Britt. You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks so much, Rach. Always good to know that I can count on my best friend to tell me exactly what I don't want to know."
"Whatever," Rachel shrugged. "Did the twins keep you up again?"
Brittany just nodded. It was easier.
"Ugh. Those brats are so irritating," Rachel mused, walking with her captain back to the locker room. "Aren't your parents going away to London or something?"
Brittany nodded tiredly. "They leave next Thursday." She opened her eyes wider. "I wanna have a party next Friday. Big one. Kegs, music, the whole thing. I need a fucking distraction."
Rachel nodded. "Sure, B. We'll get everything sorted next week."
Brittany nodded and watched as her teammates all prepared for their shower. She missed needing to shower in mornings. Yet another reminder that she was completely bored. She wasn't used to just standing with a megaphone and shouting. She was the best goddamn Cheerio and she always led by example. She hated that she couldn't.
"Your nose doesn't look too bad," Rachel commented, pulling her uniform off.
Brittany shrugged. "There was a little bruising, but I've covered it up. The last thing I need is Coach Em on my back about that as well."
"As well?"
Brittany sighed. "She's displeased with the effort the squad is or isn't putting in for the pep assembly in Friday."
"Our routine is flawless though," Rachel said in confusion.
"I know," the blonde replied simply.
"Whatever. That bitch is overdosing on her crazy pills," Rachel chuckled, throwing a towel around her body and heading for the showers. "See you in Spanish?" she called over her shoulder.
Brittany just nodded. She needed a bed. Spanish class was as good an excuse as any to catch up on some sleep.
Santana rested her head on Rachel's shoulder as she listened to Ms. S blab on about something. She was thinking about the fact that she was going to see Quinn after Glee. She knew that things were fine, but she'd been very vague in her texts about how things had gone with her mother. It just made the Latina apprehensive.
She smiled as she felt Rachel entwine their fingers. Even though she still sometimes couldn't believe that she and Rachel Berry were dating, she was so thankful that the cheerleader had been around the last week. She would have absolutely gone off the crazy end if Rachel hadn't been there to keep her grounded.
She squeezed her hand back and moved her head slightly to place a kiss on her girlfriend's exposed neck.
"Naughty," Rachel said in a barely there whisper.
"Just how you like me," Santana replied in an equally low voice.
"Brittany!"
"Hmmm?"
Santana lifted her head and looked to her left and saw Brittany looking very disinterested a few chairs down.
"Have you made any headway on your assignment?"
"For Trig?" Brittany asked with a smirk.
Santana rolled her eyes. She'd love to know what had happened to the Brittany she'd glimpsed in the hospital bathroom the previous day. Now that Brittany she could definitely see herself being friends with. This Brittany was just too…put on.
Santana hated fake people. They were a waste of space in her opinion.
"Brittany, if you're not going to take Glee Club seriously, then I would suggest that you just leave us now rather than bring our team dynamic down with your attitude," Ms. S said firmly.
Go, Ms. S.
Brittany sighed. "If you must know, I was going to do a duet with Puck, but as you can see, he's AWOL."
"I'll sing with you," Tina offered. "My solo wasn't working for me anyway."
Brittany snorted. "I'm good, Paris Hilton."
"Brittany."
Santana jumped at the sharp tone coming from her girlfriend.
"Oh, God," Brittany muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Don't start your shit here," Rachel hissed, loudly enough for her to hear, sitting in the back row, but not Ms. S. "Puck isn't here anymore. Who the fuck knows where he is? So your façade is over. Me? I'm gonna stay here because this club is actually really fun and I don't get judged simply because I wear a red uniform."
"Although we do judge you on that a little," Mercedes teased.
Rachel smiled and Santana settled back in her chair. Rachel was turning her on…a lot.
"Of course you'd stay here," Brittany spat. "Look at the fan-fucking-tastic deal you got converting to Losers R Us."
"Get out," Santana said suddenly, her voice low.
"What?" Both Brittany and Rachel looked at her in surprise.
"I tried giving you the benefit of the doubt, Brittany, I really did. I'm sorry, Rachel, but she's not making any effort to show any kind of appreciation of what you did for her. Any promise that she's made is pretty much worthless if she can't even refrain from calling us losers when she loves being here just as much as we do." Santana took a slow breath, trying to quell her anger. "I know you only came here because you wanted Puck back. So if we're really just a bunch of losers, then there are two doors that you can choose from."
"Nice, Rachel," Brittany snapped, standing up. "Guess I should enlighten Coach Em as to your apparent switch in allegiance."
"What?" Rachel asked in confusion.
"Don't blame her," Santana replied. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that when the two top Cheerios suddenly join Glee, that they must have an ulterior motive. You hardly made it difficult to solve, Brittany."
Brittany just stared incredulously at Santana, her eyes flashing. The Latina held her gaze in challenge. She was still keeping her promise to Rachel. She was staying calm, even if her instinct was screaming at her to start round two.
"Brittany, there will always be a place for you here," Ms. S said quietly.
"God, stop psycho-analysing me!" Brittany shouted, grabbing her bag. "You all are completely nuts! I must have been high when I considered this."
Santana simply watched as she stalked out of the room. She sighed and leaned her head against the back wall, closing her eyes.
"Well," Ms. Sylvester began again.
"Sorry, Ms. S, could I just…?" Rachel asked timidly.
Santana opened one eye and simply nodded once when the cheerleader looked at her. God, why was high school full of so much drama. She could shoot a TV show of this shit and make millions. She grinned to herself. As if. No one would watch a show about a glee club.
She sat up and focused on what Ms. S was saying.
"Brittany!"
The blonde ignored Rachel's voice as she stalked to her car. Her head was pounding and all she wanted was to go home and lie down, drowning out the world and get through the rest of this crappy day.
"B, come on! Wait up!"
Brittany unlocked her car and threw her bag inside, sliding in too quickly and wincing at the discomfort.
"Open this goddamn door!" Rachel said sharply.
Brittany gave her a look and Rachel simply went to stand in front of her car, daring her to move forward. She couldn't go backwards. The blonde groaned loudly in frustration and got out of her car.
"What, Berry? What could you possibly have to say to me?"
"Are you ok?"
Brittany blinked. She hadn't expected that.
"Of course," she huffed, recovering. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you've been shorter than usual with me and one minute your super nice then you're back to HBIC. It's like you're bi-polar or something."
"Yup, that's it," Brittany said, folding her arms across her chest. "Went to a doctor and they diagnosed me. I can't be held responsible for my personality."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Do you really think that you can bullshit me? I've known you since we were eleven, B. You can't pretend with me. You may not believe it, but you can't hide anything from me. And I know that your smile since last week comes straight from Fake 101."
Brittany blinked again.
Shit.
"B, I want you to think that you can talk to me. Whatever's bothering you, I can handle it. I'm not a little girl anymore."
"Jesus, I know that, Rachel," Brittany snapped. "Don't fucking patronise me."
Rachel's eyes narrowed. "I'm not patronising you, Brittany," she said slowly. "But keep pissing me off and I will just to irritate you."
Brittany rolled her eyes. "Fine, you wanna know what's wrong? I'm angry. No, actually, I'm fucking livid. I can't train or do anything for another three weeks because of the injuries that your girlfriend gave me. I can't even run or watch TV for too long. I have splitting headaches all the fucking time and I have to play mommy to my brat brother and sister all the fucking time. I worked fucking hard to get to the top and what does my best friend do? She gets rid of every perk of being on top. I'm fucking Head Cheerio and I can't do jack shit."
She was breathing heavily when she was done and Rachel's eyes were wide.
"B, why didn't you-"
"Because you're never there anymore, Rachel. I don't even see you at lunch. You're too busy making goo goo eyes with Santana. It's sickening."
Rachel glared. "I know that wasn't your inner homophobe coming out, Brittany, because best friend or not, I will kick your ass. Yes, I'm gay. Yes, I have a girlfriend and a smokin' hot one at that. We went through this in middle school. You told me that you had no problem with me being gay. Are you saying you now do?"
"Jesus Christ, Rachel, that's not what I meant," Brittany said in exasperation. "I just mean that you two are sickeningly sweet. Like you jumped right out of some fucking romcom or some shit."
"Oh," Rachel said, her brows furrowing.
"Whatever," Brittany sighed, giving in to the inevitable. "I'll go an apologise to Sylvester tomorrow."
"You're coming back?" Rachel asked with a smile.
Brittany smiled. "I guess your girlfriend was right about one thing. I do kind of enjoy it. Even if it is super lame."
The blonde hardly had time to react before Rachel launched herself at her, hugging her tightly.
"Jesus, Berry, I need oxygen!" Brittany said haughtily, but she felt a little warm on the inside. Normally, a fight with Rachel would result in the two of them not speaking for a few days and then one day just pretending it didn't happen and going back to normal. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the healthiest thing for a friendship. Issues left unresolved were now starting to nip her in the butt.
"Santana seems to be a good influence on you," she found herself saying.
What? Brain? Filter? Hello! What the fuck?
"What?" Rachel sounded like she laughed the word.
"Uh, nothing. I didn't say anything."
"B," Rachel said with a tone. "Come on, we just got to the point where you're telling me stuff. Don't retreat back into yourself again."
"There it is again," Brittany sighed, tugging nervously on her own ponytail. "I dunno, Rach. It's like since you've been with Santana, you're like…I dunno, more sensitive or whatever. Before you never used to give a shit about why I was in a bad mood."
Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "She's been good for me. I'm the first to admit it. And I'm good for her. It's like we complement each other."
"Doesn't hurt that she's hot, huh?" Brittany teased, clamping her hand over her mouth immediately.
Great. Fucking great. Non-existent filter, thank you so fucking much.
Rachel just laughed. "Anyone with eyes would agree with you, B."
Brittany smiled in relief.
That was close.
She was glad that she and Rachel were working on an actual friendship. She was. It kinda made her realise how alone she really was. If Rachel weren't in the picture, who would she have?
No one.
She sighed. No matter what happened, these…feelings or whatever that she had for Santana would have to stay very deeply buried and hopefully they'd disappear. Not only was Brittany definitely not gay, she would never go after her best friend's girlfriend. She may be a bitch, but she wasn't that much of a bitch.
"We should do something this weekend!" Rachel said.
"Like what?"
"I dunno, go to a spa or something. I bet you could use a hot stone massage."
"Now that you mention it," Brittany mused, smiling. "That sounds absolutely amazing."
"Awesome!" Rachel said, grinning. "So, B…are we good?"
Brittany smiled, a real genuine smile. "Yeah. We're good."
She opened her car door and slid in, pulling it closed behind her. She saw Rachel frown at her and rolled her window down.
"It's been a pretty shit day for me, Rach. I'm just gonna go home and sleep. And maybe take ten pain tablets." She chuckled at Rachel's wide-eyed expression. "Relax, Berry. I won't actually do that. I'd miss me too much."
She winked at her friend and started her car. She headed out and started fiddling with the radio. A familiar song came on and she listened quietly to the lyrics as they echoed around her car. She felt her heart tug a little and she realised that she'd just found her song for the glee assignment.
Santana took a deep breath as Rachel pulled up outside the Fabray's house.
"You gonna be ok?" Rachel asked quietly.
Santana simply nodded.
"You'd better call me if something happens," her girlfriend warned in a teasing tone, but Santana could detect the underlying seriousness.
"I will," she said softly.
"Hey, I'm sure she's fine," Rachel said soothingly.
Santana nodded again. "I'll let you know when I get home, ok?"
Rachel smiled and leaned in for a brief kiss. "I'll call you later."
Santana took a deep breath and stepped out of the Thunderbird. She glanced behind her as she walked up to the Fabray's front door and saw her girlfriend waiting patiently. She offered an encouraging wave and it made Santana smile a little.
God, I feel like I'm on a fucking first date! I practically grew up here! What the hell is my problem?
She rang the doorbell and immediately heard the familiar click of Fiona's heels across the marble floor. Quinn hated how her parents flaunted their wealth in the most materialistic of ways.
"Santana!" Fiona said warmly, opening her arms to hug her daughter's best friend.
The Latina returned the embrace and stepped inside, turning momentarily to blow Rachel a kiss before the front door closed behind her.
"Santana, I wonder if I could have a word before you see Quinn?"
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Fuck!
"Sure," Santana replied, trying to stay calm.
They sat down on the ridiculously uncomfortable sofa and Santana squirmed.
"Santana, I trust you implicitly. You've been Quinn's best friend for years and you've spent a lot of time here so I know that you'll give me an honest answer when I ask you…"
She trailed off and Santana swallowed.
"Did you know?" Fiona finally asked.
Ooh, careful, she's trying to trick you.
Santana knew Fiona Fabray's tricks. Her mother had tried using open ended and vague questions to get her to admit to things she wouldn't normally, but Santana wasn't stupid.
"Did I know what, Fiona?" Santana replied, looking confused.
"Did you know that she was seeing that…Jewish boy?" Fiona asked, her lip curling.
Santana sighed internally. How a pair of pretentious snobs like the Fabrays could have produced someone as amazing as Quinn would forever astound her.
"I didn't actually," Santana replied honestly. "I think it was more a passing thing than anything serious. He's a bit of an ass."
"Hmmm," was all Fiona said.
Santana waited for the inevitable follow up question, her heart rate increasing steadily as the seconds ticked by.
Eventually, she just jumped in. "Um, could I go and see Quinn? Some juicy business went down in Glee today and I bet she'd love to hear about it."
Santana knew the way to Fiona Fabray's heart.
"Oh, yes, of course, dear," she replied brightly. "I'm sure the club is suffering terribly in her absence."
"You have no idea," Santana gushed, standing up. "I bet she misses it just as much."
Santana flew up the stairs and slipped into Quinn's room, closing the door quietly behind her.
"I'd give you nine for effort," Quinn's voice piped from her bed.
"Damn!" Santana sighed, snapping her fingers. "So close to that ten." She grinned and fell onto the bed next to her best friend. "Hey, friendling."
"Hi," Quinn replied softly.
"How are you?" Santana asked, searching her eyes keenly. She could always tell what Quinn was feeling when she looked into her eyes.
"Sore," she admitted. "My whole body feels like it's aching."
"I can give you a massage?" Santana offered.
Quinn chuckled. "I'm not that sore. Besides, you give the hardest massages. They're borderline painful."
"They need to be hard, otherwise you don't release the tension in the muscles and it'll just build-"
"Shut up," Quinn interrupted softly, but not in a mean way.
Santana smiled and promptly shut her trap.
"I told my mom," Quinn whispered.
Santana scooted closer to her best friend.
"She just gave me this look of complete disappointment." Quinn fought a sob rising in her throat and Santana grabbed her hand tightly. "She said that fate played a good hand, taking my baby away from me."
Santana grimaced. She knew Fiona was hard-assed, but that was just downright cruel.
"My father told me never to be so stupid again," Quinn mumbled, the tears starting to flow down her cheeks.
"Quinnie, I'm so sorry," Santana whispered. "Do you want to come and stay with me?"
Quinn smiled, despite her tears. "You do realise that there is no way my parents are letting me out of this house unless it's to go to school and dancing, right? I wouldn't be surprised if they slipped a tracking device into my bag." She shrugged and wiped her eyes. "But thanks for the offer, San."
"Sure," Santana replied easily. "You know our door is always open."
Quinn nodded. "So, anything interesting happen today?"
"Hmmm, Brittany and I had another showdown," Santana replied casually, looking thoughtful.
"What?" Quinn exclaimed, her cheeks tinged pink – a sure sign she was getting angry. "Santana, after everything-"
"Relax, Quinnie," Santana interrupted her, chuckling. "I was perfectly calm. Brittany hasn't been keeping up her part of the deal so I called her on it and she didn't have a comeback. She walked out, but Rachel convinced her to stay."
"Is it worth it?" Quinn asked, frowning.
Santana shrugged. "She's an ok singer and a pretty good dancer. Besides, it's not like if she leaves, Rachel leaves, so…"
"Yeah, she's there purely for the music," Quinn teased.
"Ha!" Santana scoffed. "I play a great tune and she loves it."
"Ugh, why do I feel like there was some sexual innuendo hidden in there somewhere?" Quinn asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Not this time," Santana replied, smiling. She sighed. "Fourteen days of torture."
"You're actually counting down the days?" Quinn asked in surprise.
"Uh, duh. You know how bad it is now. And we're not even having sex."
"Oh, fun," Quinn said dryly. "Watching you and Rachel suck each other's faces off just doesn't sound as appealing to me as it does to you, I'm afraid."
"Well, good," Santana replied with a twinkle in her eyes. "Cos I don't share very nicely."
Quinn chuckled. "You are such a dork."
"And you love me," Santana grinned.
"Unfortunately."
"Hey!"
Quinn giggled and rested her head on her best friend's shoulder. "I miss you, San. We don't ever do anything anymore."
"Truth," Santana replied. "Maybe if you're feeling up to it this weekend, Rachel told me that she and Brittany are going to have a spa day on Saturday. I think it sounds like fun. Maybe we should have one too."
"A spa day?" Quinn asked, looking at Santana sceptically.
"Yes," the Latina replied slowly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Just wondering if you haven't got Rachel hidden somewhere in you."
Santana laughed and dropped her head into her friend's shoulder this time. "I think we could use the relaxation. Hot stone massages, cucumber and avocado facials. Hmmm, I'm hungry now."
Quinn chuckled. "Always thinking with your stomach."
"Hey, doing nothing for a week totally works up your appetite!" Santana protested. "You're lucky you have me to learn from. I could hand you all my secrets to getting everyone in this house waiting for you on hand and foot."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "You forget, I already have a frigging full time maid and now my mother wants me to have a live-in fucking nurse. I swear, she thinks I got hit by a bus and that I'm a total invalid."
"She's worried," Santana said softly, momentarily reminded of her and Rachel's conversation the previous day.
"She only gets 'worried' when her precious dream is in jeopardy," Quinn replied, using air quotes.
"Quinnie, if you don't want to be a performer anymore, then tell them. You shouldn't do what your parents want you to do."
The blonde eyed her best friend. "Just checking, but you have met my parents, right? There is no way in hell they're going to let me give up their dream."
Santana shrugged. "Look, we're only sophomores, so we have a while to think about it."
"Who's 'we'?" Quinn asked. "You've wanted to be a doctor since I've known you."
"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that," Santana replied, playing with her fingers.
"Oh?"
Santana brushed it off. "Another time." She sat up. "Play by play of what went down in Glee today." She paused, looking around.
Quinn smiled. "What are you looking for?"
"Popcorn. This is a story of such epic proportions that popcorn will be required."
She bounded off the bed and ran downstairs, the ring of Quinn's laughter echoing. She grinned.
A/N: I know not much happens in this chapter, but I feel it was necessary to set the basis for what's to come ;)
Let me know what y'all think.
I'm home and sick so maybe I'll update a little quicker, but chances are it'll be once a week. Sorry :(
-H