Chapter Two


Quinn was being a real pain in her ass lately. However which way Quinn had interpreted Santana's brush off must have been some mental gymnastics because since then Quinn had been making a conscious effort to be nicer to Santana. Santana wouldn't admit it outright, but her edges were certainly softening when it came to her old best friend.

Santana thought back to their childhood when they'd knock on doors in their neighbourhood and run away only to be caught every time because the driveways were too long, or when they'd tell all the other kids that they had evil twins and would help each other transform with a carefully placed scrunchie here and a smoky eye there.

"Sandbags! Head up!" Santana stiffened her shaking arms and put on her best smile as she held the strain of the body above hers. "Pathetic. You're all pathetic." Sue's words bit harder than a hungry dog with rabies. Fuck her, she thought as she continued to smile.

They'd been stupidly close until they went up to high school. Then their competitiveness had gotten the better of them and every interaction was tense. Santana distanced herself and spent most of her time with Brittany and Quinn occupied her time with anyone but. Sure, they were dubbed the Unholy Trinity and put on a solid front for the most part, but they didn't speak all that much outside of school anymore.

Quinn was standing alongside Sue, hands on hips, eyes scrutinizing every part of the pyramid. She looked intimidating as hell. She was intimidating as hell. Her gaze fell to her own and her smile felt a little less forced for it.

...

After seeing Santana get hurt Quinn had been reminded that this was somebody she used to care for, somebody who she used to call 'best friend'. It was a harsh reminder that she'd willingly let their friendship fail to maintain an image she felt like she didn't fit into anymore.

Since that day, Quinn had tried to reconnect with Santana.

Thankfully, it seemed to have been paying off - Santana had lost some of her sting when it came to her. But other than the odd conversation in the cafeteria or on the field, she hadn't had a chance to steal all of Santana's focus. Not when every movement was being monitored by Brittany. If Quinn wanted to be able to have an honest conversation with the girl who used to know her better than anybody else she was going to have to get her alone.

"Hey, S, can you come here a sec?" Quinn panted as training came to a close. She had to stop herself from screaming when she saw Brittany turn her head in their direction to wait for a response.

"Oh, sure." She took a long swig from her water and tossed it to the ground as she strolled over to Quinn, stretching out her muscles as she did.

"I was just wondering if you'd meet me in the choir room before Glee," Brittany was moving slowly over to them so Quinn lowered her voice, "so that we can talk."

"Aye aye, Cap," the other girl leaned in to whisper with mirth in her eyes. With a wink and a tap to her own nose, she leaned back and gave Brittany a startled smile. Santana hadn't realised she had gotten so close. Neither had Quinn who took a step back.

Brittany returned the smile, but Quinn noticed it seemed a little strained.

...

Where once Brittany could just tell Santana what was on her mind, she wasn't so confident in where they stood anymore. She was with Artie now and she wouldn't be as bothered if Santana was still being cold, but here she was, treating her like the friends they'd always been. It warmed her heart, but also put her feelings back into limbo.

She watched as the pair made their way back up the field laughing together about something she couldn't make out. It stirred something in the pit of her stomach.

Quinn being all coy wasn't helping her confusion either. If she was being honest she never liked Quinn. Before she transferred to McKinley she knew that Quinn and Santana had been close, but all she'd seen since being with them was them fighting and being less than friendly. Whatever Quinn needed Santana for she wasn't going to like it.

...

Quinn played with the keys of the choir room's piano whilst she waited. She had skipped out of the last ten minutes of her history class to make sure she was here before everybody else. Being pretty and under Sue's regime had its perks. Slipping out unquestioned was easy enough.

She'd worried over the thought of this conversation since speaking to Santana last. Even though they'd been at odds more so than not for a while, she had missed having that connection they shared. No matter who she befriended, she just couldn't find anyone like Santana. Mercedes came close and Quinn was forever indebted to her for her kindness and warmth when she had nowhere to go when pregnant with Beth, but they didn't have the history like she and Santana had.

"Q," with that there she was in the doorway. "You come here often?" She had a cheeky gleam in her eyes that had Quinn turning a little red, much to her mortification.

"Took your time, didn't you? I think I've aged about thirty years just sitting here waiting for you." She crossed her arms in mock exasperation.

"Surely that's a good thing. Now your age will match your dress sense." That twinkle was still in her eye and Quinn wanted it to stay.

"Hardy har har, you're so clever. Come," she patted the piano bench she was sitting on, "take a seat."

Santana took her cue and shuffled in very slowly.

"Quicker," the blonde laughed and Santana was now barely moving at all, "oh my god, you're the bane of my existence." Quinn got up and tried to drag Santana over laughing all the while. Santana stood her ground, she was determined not to budge. Before they knew it they were falling into each other and acting like utter idiots, gasping for breath between fits of giggles.

"Okay, okay, I give!" Santana raised her hands in a placating motion as they stood smiling with goofy grins at each other, the whole exchange bringing back memories of how they used to be together. She'd missed this. They both missed this. "What did you need to," she dramatically leant in and whispered, "talk about?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and shoved at her, the other girl feigned it hurting and rubbed at her arm, "I wouldn't be surprised if that did actually hurt. Seems like you can't handle anything too rough," she tapped to a spot on her own hairline and nodded to Santana, "exhibit number one."

Santana felt for the bump she knew was there and shrugged. "Depends on what kind of rough I guess."

Blushing slightly Quinn cleared her throat, "I just wanted to tell you something, something I haven't had the balls to do until recently actually."

"Shoot, Q."

"I don't know what it is, but-"

"Hey guys! What are you doing here so early? I totally thought we'd be the first ones here today." Brittany came bounding into the room pushing Artie a little too quickly for his liking.

"I guess not." Quinn deadpanned.

Santana frowned and mouthed 'talk later' to Quinn with a questioning raise of her eyebrow. With a nod, she took her seat and shot a glare toward a certain someone.

Fucking Brittany.

...

Rachel was spewing off her newest suggestions for the club's possible song choices for whatever competition they were getting themselves into next, but Santana was not listening. She might have been feeling as light as a feather, but her attention span could only take so much. So as Rachel blabbered, her mind wandered. Wandering where you might ask? Well take Quinn's little chat earlier for instance. What did she want?

Ever since she'd bashed her head people had been treating her differently, but Quinn had been treating her familiarly if that made sense. Maybe the fact that she wasn't three seconds from committing homicide on a daily basis helped with the shift in attitude towards her, but maybe the new slushy flavour was really doing it for people, she wasn't sure.

But with Quinn, they'd been in this place before, where they could talk and not want to slap each other. It had been a long time coming. In fairness before the floor incident, she hadn't exactly been open to reconciliation, she had been too consumed by worry about what her attraction to girls meant, how she was going to keep that moron Puck, and how she was going to cope with Brittany being happy with somebody else. It was just a lot to keep on top of and it had stressed her the fuck out. Royally so. Stress equalled other people getting more shit, she needed a release somehow and wreaking havoc had helped somewhat.

But here she was now, not ripping Rachel's head off and that was great. She had so much more energy to masturbate now. Who knew being at a hundred all day every day took it out of her so much.

She snapped her unfocused gaze to Quinn to catch her looking at her. Instead of looking away, it seemed Quinn was in a world of her own, not fully realising Santana was looking her way. She was biting down on her lip, head resting in her hand a glazed look in her eye. Santana had been feeling a little goofy all day so why stop now? Pulling a few faces at Quinn wouldn't hurt. At first, she crossed her eyes, but when that started to hurt she tried to pull to imitate the gassy infant look she'd seen on Finn's face many a time.

If anyone else caught her she accepted that she would have to leave the state.

She hadn't realised Quinn had noticed until she heard giggling come from her direction. Everyone, including Rachel, stopped to look to a red-faced Quinn who stared resolutely ahead as though she'd not made a peep.

Santana felt rather proud of herself if she was being frank.

Not one to be easily deterred, Rachel continued - slight interruption aside. Her dedication to sharing her thoughts on song choices was admirable. All aboard the secondary-song-choice-list train. Choo choo!

...

God, that was three times within the space of half an hour Santana had her blushing like a nun in a sex store. She needed to get a hold of herself.

Quinn had totally zoned out staring at Santana, how they were earlier played on her mind and made her feel almost giddy. It was a foreign feeling and she was liking it despite the confusion that it was bringing. Having Santana back in a friend capacity was tangible now and she couldn't stop the smile coming to her face. Chancing a look back at Santana she caught her smirking but facing forward. For that she was thankful.

...

Brittany didn't think anything of Quinn's interruption when it happened, but when Glee had finished and everybody was getting ready to go she waited for Artie to finish talking to Tina about some new artist he was listening to (totally boring, but she was being a good girlfriend) she saw Quinn eyeing Santana. And it was not in the usual revenge-on-my-mind kind of way, more so in the bend-over-again-to-pick-up-your-things-please kind of way. She was not impressed. What was going on there?

"You ready, Britt?" Artie's question drew Brittany's distracted glare, he recoiled slightly at having it directed at him. She seemed to come back to herself quickly when she nodded at him with one last look back at Quinn before she pushed him out of the choir room.

...

Lucia had texted her earlier that day claiming to have lost all function of her legs after her track training, so Santana just had to give her a ride home. Oh, and deciding to lie on the hood of her sister's car as she waited seemed like a great idea… until it wasn't.

"You better have a good reason to be on my car!" The tell-tale sound of her sister storming the gravelled parking lot fell on conveniently deaf ears. "Hey!" Santana pulled her shoe off, quickly rousing her attention.

"No fair, why the shoe?"

"Why not the shoe, brat? Get off my car, like right now."

Lucia, now sitting up on the hood noticed Quinn was on her way over, "Quinn! Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." She plastered on her sweetest smile and fluttered her eyelashes.

Quinn shaded her eyes as she approached, a small smile gracing her features when she saw Santana standing there looking put out that her baby sister was ignoring her. "Hi, Luc."

"Don't ignore m-"

"You haven't been around in ages Quinn, I'm sure Santa-"

"Right you asked for it," one left shoe of one Lucia Lopez was flung over to the far side of the parking lot, bouncing at least three times before it skidded to a stop. If she wasn't annoyed that her shoe had just been launched she might've been impressed with the throw.

"You bitch! My shoe!" Lucia hobbled off the car in a hurry and began a bambi-legged hop over to where it landed.

"That should keep her busy for a hot minute. What's up, Q?" Santana turned to Quinn with a satisfied smirk as she lightly dusted off the hood of her car.

"Well, I just thought we could finish that talk, but if you're busy I-"

"Did you drive here?" Santana cut in.

"Erm, no. Mercedes brought me here this morning." As though summoned by the mere mention of her name, Mercedes and Sam came out of the school exit laughing about something together. When she saw Quinn she gave a quick wave.

"Great, hop in."

"Oh. Oh, okay." Quinn wiped her hands on her skirt and reached for the rear seat door only for Santana to stop her by lightly slapping her hand away.

"Not a chance. I'd put that cretin in the trunk if I could, but she can go back there."

They both got inside to wait for Lucia to drag her slow ass back to the car, mindlessly joking about how Mr Schue's sweater vest collection had thoroughly gotten out of hand and how mortifying Puck's attempts at wooing Lauren were.

"I don't know what we saw in him." Santana said quietly. She looked to Quinn and hoped she agreed.

"Well I know what I saw."

"Oh yeah?" She swallowed hard.

"Yeah, a warm body when I felt fat and gross," Quinn tried to smile but it came out as more of a grimace, "pathetic, huh?"

"Maybe, but not as pathetic as trying to make yourself like guys when you know you don't," it came out rushed and clipped.

Santana had been feeling lighter lately it was true but as to why was hard to come to terms with.

It felt like her tongue swelled in her mouth and her under-boob sweat could hydrate a desert whenever she thought to say anything out loud. It was only now that she felt she could voice it. Failing so miserably trying to get Zizes to back off Puck really took some of the pressure off. (The mild concussion may have also been a contributing factor.) Beard Avenue was to be closed indefinitely and she was secretly glad.

A beat passed between them in silence.

"San, I-"

A sudden breeze came through the right rear door as Lucia launched herself across the backseat. "God San, you're a dick. My sneaker is all scuffed, I only bought them last week," she looked at the two girls in the front seat. Both of them were looking straight ahead, not breathing by the looks of things. Read the room, Luc. "Kyle called me a slut today," she blurted.

To her credit it worked a dream, Santana snapped her head around to look at her little sister. "He what! Does he have a death wish?"

"Probably, I mean if I had his B.O. I would too," she mimicked sticking her finger down her throat and gagging, "what a loser."

"Yeah well he better watch himself," she started the engine and pulled off, "next time just kick him in the balls."

"San!" Quinn laughed out.

"What?" she laughed too, "works every time."

Lucia sat back and listened as they reminisced about the many jocks Santana had kicked in the balls, both busting up at the start of stories they both knew every part to. She lay back knowing her job was a job well done.

...

Turns out Lucia had plans of her own with Quinn, Santana be damned. Quinn was quickly dragged off before Santana could get a word out, her old friend seemingly too shocked to say anything. Since when was Quinn such a wet blanket? Santana thought before she recalled the past week she'd been living. She had no room to talk if she was honest with herself.

With her declaration to Quinn hanging over her head, she thought better of going after them. This week had been a lot and she needed some space to think. With Quinn only close by she was sure she'd find her own way home if she decided to slip out without seeing Santana again today. She was hoping that would be the case as much as she didn't.

God, Quinn had better keep her mouth shut.

Feeling herself flush and heat up over the hypothetical outing of the century, she slipped into her bedroom and locked the door quickly. Jumping prone onto her bed face first she let the cool sheets calm her down a little. Her heart hammered in her chest, overwhelmed with all the same emotions that had plagued her before confronting Zizes. Bottling it all up really worked out for her too. She just didn't know how to move forward. And now somebody other than Brittany knew and her chest tightened at the thought of losing any more control.

"San," a soft knock at her bedroom door drew her out of her spiralling thoughts, "it's Quinn. Can I come in?"

"Ye-," Santana's throat was tight and her voice came out weak before she cleared it, "yeah, come in, Q."

The door rattled for a second before it stopped and rattled again.

"Erm, San. It'd help if the door was unlocked."

Duh. What's wrong with me? Santana rolled her eyes inwardly. "Shit, yeah," she shimmied off of her bed and was about to swing open the door before she decided to just open it just a crack, "what's the password?"

Quinn did not look impressed. "Don't get cute, we need to talk."

Sighing, Santana fell away from the door to dive back onto her bed where she waited for Quinn to get comfortable. Only that wait was going to be a long one by the looks of things. Quinn stood awkwardly by the dresser and fiddled with her skirt as she took a look around the room.

"That talk?"

"Oh. Yeah. Well I know I tried to grab you earlier and I didn't get the chance to tell you that, I can't believe I'm saying this... I miss you. So much," Santana seemed taken aback. Quinn began pacing as she carried on, "I know this seems so out of the blue. I mean I got you demoted to the bottom of the pyramid for fuck sake, but I mean it, and even then I missed you in some fucked up way." Quinn's voice became taught as tears began brimming her eyes. "You've been so miserable lately and I know, I really do, that it's shit when you feel alone, like nobody has your back. I haven't had yours and you haven't had mine. Then you hit your head and I've been trying," a frustrated breath, "you seem happier now." Quinn looked to Santana then who was sat wide-eyed staring right at her.

"Q, what are you saying?"

"I don't understand you, Santana. Not anymore. I thought it was Brittany and Artie making you miserable," Santana went to interrupt, "no, please. Hear me out," she stopped to gather herself. "She's still not with you, but you're happy again. I just had it all so wrong."

Santana stood up then, coming to stand face to face with Quinn. "Hey," she said softly, "it's okay. I mean I don't understand, but it's okay."

Quinn let out a defeated laugh, "I just thought that you needed her to be happy. You two are like, made for each other or something." Santana grimaced slightly, feeling her heart pang in the knowledge that the ship had sailed on that. "I thought I never had a hope of making you as happy as her, I felt like how we were wasn't good enough. Even back when we were close, where we fought she made you smile. She turned you into a fucking puppy." Quinn rolled her eyes, whether at herself or at Santana she wasn't sure.

"Okay, let's take a breather here, Blondie," Santana placed her hands on Quinn's shoulders, "you and Brittany are completely different people. And you know why we aren't as close. High school is shit and we're both power-hungry bitches who know each other's weaknesses. I suppose with graduation getting closer and with it being our senior year it's time to realise we don't have forever in high school and we shouldn't be so cunty to each other, right? I can get behind that. God, Quinn," Santana dropped her arms, "you did make me happy! When you insult Mr Shue's hair or Finnocence's oafish dancing you make me happy still," Quinn smiled a little at that, "we can work on this if you want to."

"I do." Quinn nodded, "I really do, San."

"And I was not a fucking puppy," with that Santana punched Quinn in the arm.

"Ow, what the hell?"

"Maybe I have a soft spot for hot girls," Santana pointedly looked at Quinn, "no wonder you never saw that side to me."

Quinn let out a scandalised gasp, "You take that back."

"Or what?"

They both looked at each other, Santana's turmoil and confession earlier briefly forgotten as they started to laugh. Settling onto Santana's bed they talked the evening away until Quinn said she needed to go home and that she'd left her mom alone for too long. Santana lay there for a long while after that, smiling at the thought that she had Quinn back. She might not have Brittany in her life the way she wanted, but having Quinn was just as good in a different way.