"Please."
"No."
"But I said please!"
"And I said no." Santana crossed her arms and hardened her features as she tried to dismiss the subject. She sat on Quinn's kitchen counter, dressed in nothing but underwear and an oversized navy blue Yale sweatshirt that belonged to her girlfriend.
"Santana," Quinn whined. She was standing in between the girl's legs with her hands resting on either side of Santana's thighs, pouting magnificently. She had on purple plaid pajama pants and a black tank top.
"Quinn, I am not going to some Christmas party where all of your lawyer pals will be dressed up in million dollar suits and dresses, and droning on and on about some big test they took in school the other day or some court case they sat it on. I'm sorry, but that's really not my thing."
"I know it'll probably be boring and everything, that's why I need you there!" Quinn retorted.
"If it's going to be so boring why are you even attending?" Santana asked with narrowed eyes.
Quinn sighed exasperatedly. "You don't just turn down an invitation from one of the most respected district attorneys in the city. Plus, she practically cornered me and coerced me into promising to go. Apparently there are quite a few people who think she's extremely pompous and uptight."
"How does that have anything to do with inviting you to her Christmas party?" Santana responded in confusion.
"She thinks if those people saying that about her see she's involving herself with the 'youth of today' or something they'll see her as more progressive," Quinn explained. When she saw Santana was about to say something she pushed on, "Look, I didn't say it made any sense. The point is, I was invited personally by her and I want you to go with me. Please."
"Okay, but why do you even want me to go in the first place? This is your boss; these are your school and work chums; this is your world. Why do you insist on dragging me into it?" Santana didn't see why Quinn was so adamant about the situation.
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Because you're my girlfriend? Because I love you? Because I want to show you off to everyone I go to school and work with?" Quinn suggested. "Do any of those reasons work for you?"
"I guess…" Santana answered begrudgingly.
"You get to wear a nice gown if you go," Quinn coaxed with a smile.
Santana huffed in response. "Fine."
"So you'll go?" Quinn asked excitedly.
"Yes, yes, I'll go," Santana told her. "Like I was ever actually going to get out of it."
Quinn jumped up and down in delight. "I would never have forced you to go…" She was grinning widely, and Santana knew she was lying.
"You most definitely would have, Quinn!" Santana laughed. "But I would've given in anyway at some point or another. You're too cute to disappoint."
"Aww, you're too kind," Quinn returned, batting her eyelashes charmingly. "Was it the opportunity to wear a fancy dress that did you in so soon?"
"No," Santana told her. When Quinn raised a disbelieving eyebrow she continued, "No. It wasn't, I swear. Though, it did help quite a bit. Your puppy dog eyes did most of the work."
"Puppy dog eyes?" Quinn inquired as she tilted her head to the side.
"Puppy dog eyes," Santana declared with a nod. "And don't you dare tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. You give me those big, irresistible eyes fifty times a day."
"It's not my fault they seem to work so well," Quinn said, smiling. Santana was about to respond in an outraged manner, but Quinn leaned up and swallowed the words with a kiss. "You are the best."
"Tell me something I don't know," Santana muttered. "But in return, you have to do something for me."
Both of Quinn's eyebrows shot up in question. "And what exactly do I have to do?"
"Come back to Lima with me for Christmas."
Quinn started shaking her head as soon as the words left Santana's mouth. "Huh uh. Nope. No way."
"Quinn, please," Santana pleaded, "This is the first time in years everyone from glee club will be back in Lima at the same time. Kurt, Rachel, Brittany, and Sam are all going. Finn is obviously going to be there. Mike and Tina will be there, as will Mercedes and Puck. Artie is even going to be around, and apparently he's dating Kitty again so she will also be in attendance. It won't be the same without you."
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'll pass," Quinn answered.
"You haven't been back there in such a long time, are you really telling me you don't want to go just this once? All of our friends will be there."
"I left for a reason, okay? Going back…all it will do is bring to the surface everything I've worked so hard to forget or move on from. I don't know if I'm ready for that," Quinn said in a quiet voice.
Santana wound her arms around Quinn's neck. "And I totally get that, Quinn. I do. But it's not like we're moving back. We're just going to visit. Except this time, I will be at your side every moment you need or want me."
"I don't know, Santana…" Quinn replied slowly. Santana thought she was getting somewhere and didn't plan on relenting just yet.
"If this is about seeing your mom or something, you don't have to if you don't want to, you know that right? You can stay at my house. My parents are going on a holiday cruise in the Caribbean, so we'll have the whole place to ourselves," Santana told her with a small smile.
A confused look graced Quinn's features as she wondered how Santana had known her hesitancy had somewhat been revolving around her mother.
"I don't want to force you to go, though," Santana quickly added, misreading Quinn's expression as one of anger or hurt, "If you really, truly don't want to, that's fine. I'll completely understand. But I do think it would be good for you to go back. Even if it's just for a little while."
Quinn bit her lip and stared at Santana, lost deep in thought. "You're right," she sighed after a minute. "I do need to go back."
"Seriously, Quinn, I don't want to push you into doing something you don't want to do."
"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "Really, you're right. It'll be good for me. Regardless of what's happened, Lima has been a huge part of life. I don't think I could ever escape it completely." Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "Who knows, maybe the place has gotten better since I left."
"So you'll go?" Santana repeated Quinn's earlier words, smiling tentatively.
"Yes, I will go," Quinn answered as she smiled in return. "You're lucky I love you so much."
Santana nodded. "I really, really am." She pulled Quinn in for another kiss, wrapping her legs around the blonde's waist.
"Did you say Artie's dating Kitty again?" Quinn asked against Santana's lips. She seemed to finally be processing what Santana had said.
"Yes," Santana replied with a chuckle.
Quinn lifted Santana from the counter with ease and carried her towards the bedroom. "That's borderline horrifying."
The night of the Christmas party found Santana in front of the loft's bathroom mirror, examining and re-examining her reflection. She was wearing a long, deep red dress with silver straps, and her hair was pulled into an elegant, wavy side ponytail. She ran her hands over the sleek fabric in an attempt to smooth out any wrinkles.
For some unknown reason, Santana was extremely anxious about going to the party. Maybe it was due to her desire to make Quinn proud of her—to be accepted by all of Quinn's college friends and colleagues. She wanted Quinn to take pride in being her girlfriend and not regret bringing her.
A gentle knock on the door broke Santana out of her reverie. She looked once more at her reflection, making sure every hair was in place, and took a deep breath as she exited the bathroom. As she slid the door open and looked at Quinn, Santana felt her jaw drop at the sight in front of her.
Quinn was clad in a long, strapless sea-foam green gown that made her eyes sparkle twice as brightly as they normally did. It hugged the blonde in all the right places, resulting in her looking extremely sexy while also remarkably graceful. Two braids on either side of her head wound around to the back where they faded into the rest of her hair, which was pinned up in a refined bun. Holy shit, Santana thought to herself.
Quinn's own eyes widened in shock as she took in Santana and her dress. She opened her mouth slightly, but no words came out for a solid twenty seconds. "Hey," she eventually said as she cleared her throat, "umm…wow, Santana, you look…" She couldn't seem to find the words to express just how good Santana looked.
Santana nodded fervently, thoroughly understanding Quinn's inability to form a coherent statement. "You, too."
Quinn smiled appreciatively. She offered her hand to Santana. "Shall we?"
Santana took Quinn's extended hand, but pulled on it when Quinn turned to start walking. "I didn't get a 'hello' kiss," she said with a small pout. Quinn grinned and leaned in obligingly, pressing her lips to Santana's.
"How could I ever forget such a thing?" Quinn whispered with a breathy chuckle.
"I wouldn't let you forget something like that ever," Santana assured her, grinning widely.
Quinn giggled. "I'll hold you to that. Let's go." She led them down the stairs and out of the building.
"Do all the people at work and school know you're gay?" Santana asked in the car five minutes later.
"Yes," Quinn answered easily. "And I've told mostly everyone about you, so don't be too surprised when they recognize your name."
"You talk to people about me?" Santana inquired, shocked.
"Of course I do. Why, shouldn't I?"
"What do you say?"
"Oh, you know, the usual…" Quinn glanced at Santana with a smile before returning her stare to out the windshield.
"What does that mean?" Santana demanded, and Quinn laughed loudly.
"Calm down, would you? Nothing bad, ever. Just how smart and talented you are. How you're always cheerful and never sarcastic." Quinn's smile widened, and she was clearly entertaining herself.
"I'm glad you think you're funny, Quinn," Santana said in a serious voice.
"No, no," she disagreed, shaking her head, "I know I'm funny." She turned her head to wink at Santana.
"Whatever," the brunette grumbled as she slouched in her seat. Quinn chuckled and reached over to hold Santana's hand in her own, falling into a relaxed silence.
Twenty minutes later Quinn turned the car down what Santana assumed was a road; a moment later, though, she realized it was a long, winding driveway that was lined on either side with tall trees. It eventually opened to the biggest house Santana had ever seen. A stone mansion stood in front of them; Santana guessed it had at least thirty rooms inside of it. Ivy climbed the walls, giving the place an ancient, Victorian look.
"People actually live here?" Santana wondered out loud, eyes wide.
"Perks of living on the salary of a successful district attorney," Quinn replied grimly. She stopped the car directly in front of steps that led up to the main entrance of the house. A young boy with curly blonde hair walked over and opened Quinn's door for her. She handed him her keys and took the valet ticket from him before walking over and opening Santana's door.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Santana asked as she took Quinn's outstretched hand and got out of the vehicle.
"It's a little bit late for any regrets, isn't it?" Quinn returned.
"It's never too late for anything," Santana retorted stubbornly, and Quinn giggled before becoming serious.
"Hey," she said. She brought her hands up to cup Santana's face and looked at her intensely. "You have nothing to worry about."
"I'm not worried about anything," Santana mumbled, eyes downcast.
"Yes you are," Quinn told her. "I know you. When you're worried or anxious about something you tap your fingers repeatedly. And on the drive over here you would not stop tapping them on the dashboard."
"You should stop knowing so many things about me," Santana said, pouting slightly. She brought her gaze up to meet Quinn's.
"Can't help it," Quinn responded as she smiled. "Seriously, Santana, everyone's going to love you. Just not as much as I do," she added. "Stop worrying, okay? Please?" Santana saw the hazel eyes soften as Quinn turned her infamous puppy dog eyes on high power.
She heaved a relenting sigh. "Okay, okay, let's do this thing."
Quinn grinned before dropping her hands from Santana's face and reached for her hand, leading her up the steps and into the house.
Santana's jaw dropped when they walked in; the ceiling was twenty feet high and a massive crystal chandelier hung down from it. There was a split grand staircase directly in front of them that had a set of steps winding down to either side of the wide room. The white marble floor underfoot stretched in each direction, leading into the rooms around the entrance of the house.
"Holy hell," Santana muttered under her breath as her eyes surveyed the entire place.
Swarms of people swarmed in and out of the entrance, talking with each other and introducing spouses or significant others. Waiters in gold vests weaved in and out of the throngs of people, carrying trays full of champagne and appetizers. Quinn tugged down on Santana's hand and nodded her head towards the room off to the right of the entryway. Santana followed her into what seemed to be a dining room with all of the furniture removed, where even more people congregated. On the far side of the room there was a wide makeshift stage where a band was playing instrumental versions of both holiday and popular songs.
"Jesus Christ. How many people did your DA buddy invite to this party?" Santana asked, taking in all of the beautiful women in gowns and handsome men in suits.
"A lot," Quinn answered. "She invited people from her firm, people from the university-"
"The university?" Santana interjected. "What, like Columbia?"
Quinn nodded. "Yes, she's also my professor, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," Santana said as she recollected the information. "I forgot about that part."
"Well, yes, so she works there. And it's also where she went. So other alumni will be here. Some other faculty and staff were invited, too, of course. And friends and family, naturally."
"And the few lucky students she chose to do her work for her, like yourself," Santana supplied helpfully with a grin.
"Of course," Quinn agreed, smiling in response. "Come on, I found a group of people I actually know." She led Santana over to a small collection of people who were elated at the sight of the blonde.
"Quinn!"
"Wow, Quinn, you look great!"
"Damn, Fabray, you clean up nicely!"
Quinn grinned and waved their greetings away. "Yes, yes, thank you very much. You all look wonderful, too. It's nice to see everyone out of school and work."
A guy with slicked back hair laughed openly. "Too true, Quinn. It's a welcomed change."
"Right," Quinn started again, "well, more importantly, there's someone I want you guys to meet. Everyone, this," she pulled Santana forward a step so she was a part of the group, "is Santana." She smiled encouragingly at her girlfriend before continuing, "Santana, this is…Alyssa, David, Ian, Shannon, and Ryan." She gestured to each individual as she said their name. "Alyssa, Ian, and Ryan are all part of the internship with me. And David and Shannon are actual interns at the law firm—they have already graduated." Santana nodded in understanding, trying to remember who everyone was.
"Ah, so we finally get to meet the one and only Santana," the girl who Quinn had introduced as Alyssa said. She was smiling softly and had kind brown eyes. Her brunette hair flowed freely down her back. "She talks a lot about you, you know."
Santana glanced at Quinn; the blonde's face began to redden with slight embarrassment and Santana smiled endearingly. "All good things, I hope?" Santana answered as she looked back at Alyssa.
"Nothing but good things, actually," Ian jumped in. He flashed a perfect smile. "She just doesn't shut up about you."
"That's not true," Quinn refuted. "Okay, not completely true."
"What everyone is trying to say, Santana," the woman named Shannon interrupted, "is that it's so nice to finally put a face to a name. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"It's nice to meet all of you, too," Santana returned, nodding. "I've heard countless stories about you all."
"I don't think Quinn's ever mentioned just how attractive you are, though," David said with a good-natured smile. He had a short crew cut, a perfectly tailored suit on, and blue eyes that shone brightly.
"Watch it, David," Quinn warned. She attempted to keep her face stony and hard but a grin broke out across it.
"So, Quinn," the guy with slicked back hair—Ryan—interrupted loudly, "have you read Dr. Gibson's new book about The Separation Thesis?"
"Uhh," Quinn hesitated, taken aback by the sudden change in subject. "No, I haven't yet. But I heard she provides some very convincing points."
Ryan nodded. "Oh, yes, she absolutely does. It's a revolutionary piece of work. I wouldn't be surprised if professors around the world began teaching it."
His voice grated against Santana's nerves: it was weighed down with haughtiness and self-love. He reeked of pompousness and old money—Santana doubted if the guy had ever had to work for anything in his life. She guessed everything was handed to him, including his place in the internship. Santana didn't fail to notice the way Ryan stared at Quinn; his eyes kept raking up and down her body and he had a look of lust and hunger about him—and desperation, Santana added mentally—that was directed specifically at Quinn. Santana gripped Quinn's hand tighter and shuffled closer to her, trying to send a signal to Ryan.
"I'll have to pick it up next time I'm out," Quinn replied, smiling politely.
"Definitely. Of course, once you're done with it we'll have to get together and discuss our thoughts on it," Ryan said airily. He grinned a dodgy grin that made Santana's skin crawl.
"Yeah, sure, cool," Quinn answered. She seemed to pick up on Ryan's ulterior motives; she dropped her hold on Santana's hand and wound an arm around her girlfriend's waist to pull her closer. Santana had to stop herself from throwing a victorious smirk in Ryan's direction.
"We could hold a sort of discussion group at my house in the Hamptons after you're done," Ryan continued, apparently oblivious to Quinn's desire to end the exchange between the two. "My family hardly ever uses it anymore, it would be perfect."
"Great, yeah, sure," Quinn responded, still uninterestedly. Santana could tell Quinn was merely placating the man, and it filled her with pride and joy.
The group fell into easy, casual conversation about stories of work and school. Santana was pleasantly surprised with Quinn's friends; she had figured Quinn was a rarity—a smart, successful person who attended an Ivy League school but wasn't stuck up and arrogant about it. But everyone in her circle of friends, with the outstanding exception of Ryan, seemed to fall into the same category. They included Santana in the discussions and genuinely wanted to hear what she had to say.
It wasn't until the lead singer of the band made an unseen announcement that Santana begin to doubt herself.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our special guest: Quinn Fabray!" the man called out suddenly in the microphone. Santana, who had only been listening half-heartedly, whipped her head around to stare at Quinn, who had a sheepish grin playing on her lips.
"Surprise?" Quinn said guiltily. She kissed Santana's temple before leaving and making her way on stage as everyone in the vicinity applauded.
"Hi, everyone," Quinn started once she was handed the microphone, "It's such an honor to be here tonight, and an even bigger one to be performing for you. Jane Welker, your lovely host this evening, asked me to sing and, of course, I couldn't deny her request. I don't want to take too much time from the very talented band, though, so I'm going to keep it short and sweet. So please enjoy." She placed the mic back in its stand and nodded toward the pianist to indicate she was ready. The bars of the song started to drift through the room and Quinn took a deep breath as she started.
Many times I've tried to tell you
Many times I've cried alone
Always I'm surprised how well you
Cut my feelings to the bone
Santana had almost forgotten how smooth and beautiful Quinn's voice. It didn't have the ability to shatter a glass or a window, but it had the power to knock the wind out of you with the emotion it held. Santana was transfixed with Quinn as she watched the girl get lost in the song.
Don't wanna leave you really
I've invested too much time
To give you up that easy
To the doubts that complicate your mind
We belong to the light
We belong to the thunder
We belong to the sound of the words
We've both fallen under
Whatever we deny or embrace
For worse or for better
We belong, we belong
We belong together
Maybe it's a sign of weakness
When I don't know what to say
Maybe I just wouldn't know
What to do with my strength anyway
We can't begin to know it
How much we really care
I hear your voice inside me
I see your face everywhere
Still you say
Whatever we deny or embrace
For worse or for better
We belong, we belong
We belong together
We belong to the light
We belong to the thunder
We belong to the sound of the words
We've both fallen under
As the song came to a close a raucous applause exploded through the room. Quinn was grinning broadly as she stepped down from the stage. Santana saw someone sidetrack the girl, leaving Santana to people watch and listen until Quinn returned. Quinn leaned around the person and held up a single finger at Santana, telling her she'd only be a minute. Santana smiled and nodded in response.
Ryan was staring at the blonde with a lecherous expression again. He kept licking his lips and smoothing out the sleeves of his suit jacket, as if preparing himself to talk to Quinn. Part of Santana wanted to stride over and slap him as hard as she could, but out of respect and love for Quinn, she resisted the temptation. David and Ian were holding an in-depth discussion about the previously mentioned Separation Thesis; their words went in one of Santana's ears and out the other. Alyssa and Shannon seemed to be talking about whether or not it would be acceptable to wear the gowns they were currently wearing to someone's clam bake next month. Two women behind Santana were debating if Cabo or Barbados proved to be the better vacation spot.
The room seemed to collapse on itself. Santana suddenly felt all alone and out of place in the room of crowded people. This wasn't the kind of lifestyle she was made out for. Ball gowns and clam bakes, huge parties and pretentious men. She didn't know how to live like that. It wasn't her, it wasn't her life.
Santana felt her chest constrict at the realization and turned on her heel, needing fresh air. She pushed her way through the crowd trying to make it to the front door. She only vaguely registered Quinn calling out her name behind her. She finally reached the foyer and burst out the oak door and into the cold winter air.
"Santana!" Quinn cried, following Santana down the steps. "Santana! Wait!" She caught up to the girl at the bottom of the staircase, snatching Santana's wrist in her grasp and forcing her to turn around. Santana recollected the last time one of them ran after the other: at the bar when Quinn had walked out. Oh how the times have changed.
"What, Quinn?" Santana asked in a defeated voice.
"What do you mean 'what, Quinn'?" Quinn challenged. "Do you want to explain why you were leaving? Did something happen?"
Santana shook her head. "No, nothing happened."
"Then why the hell did you leave? Was it Ryan?" Quinn asked worriedly. She dropped Santana's arm. "Because seriously, Santana, he's such a sleaze and I-"
"It wasn't Ryan either," Santana deadpanned.
"What was it then?"
"I just…I don't know, Quinn," Santana answered. She ran her hands over her ponytail and let out a frustrated sigh. "I can't give you any of that." She jabbed a finger at the house to emphasize her point.
"Give me any of…wait, what? What are you talking about?" Quinn questioned with a furrowed brow.
"Quinn, I'm not a lawyer. I don't earn hundreds of thousands of dollars every year. I can't talk to you about the Separation Thesis. I don't attend clam bakes and charity events or vacation in Central America."
"Okay…" Quinn trailed off uncomprehendingly.
"Quinn, you are some superstar lawyer," Santana explained. She saw Quinn was about to interrupt and hurried on, "Or you're going to be anyway. Some day. It's an inevitability. You go to Columbia, and you've already graduated from Yale. You're on a whole other level. I can't keep up. You deserve someone who can. Someone who comes from the same world as you. Someone like all of those people at the party." She took a deep breath to calm herself, but Quinn held up a hand.
"Stop," Quinn told Santana in a firm voice. "I'm sorry if tonight kind of overwhelmed you. That's my fault, and I apologize. I shouldn't have essentially forced you to come. But, Santana, I don't want to date a lawyer. They're boring and uptight." She smiled slightly before continuing, "The people in that house, they're…nice. They are smart. I'm lucky to know them and I'm lucky to work with them. But that's all. You saw them, they care little about anything other than school and work. It's ridiculous."
"But they're just like you," Santana implored. "They get you and they're smart like you."
"Santana, I don't care about that! I don't want to date someone who's like me. I want someone who will challenge me and call me out on my bullshit. Someone who will make me think about the world in a different way. I want someone who I can talk to about all the stupid little things in my mind. I want you. And if I'm a carbon-copy of the people you met tonight, I have seriously lost myself along the way."
"You're not a carbon-copy," Santana murmured quietly. "I just think you deserve someone better than me."
"You're right, self-esteem isn't really you're thing," Quinn joked softly, causing Santana to smile faintly. The blonde took a step forward and grabbed Santana's hand. "But you think wrong. There's no one better than you."
Santana heaved a sigh and leaned down, resting her forehead on Quinn's shoulder. She felt Quinn's arms snake around her waist, pulling her closer. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."
"Yes, you did," Quinn agreed with a nod. "But it's okay. I should apologize for ever putting you in the position where you would feel like that."
Santana brought her head up to look at Quinn. "God, no. Please don't apologize. You didn't do single thing wrong. You are perfect. And I love you."
Quinn grinned. "I love you, too."
Santana wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and leaned in for a long, deep kiss. "And your song was amazing," she said as she pulled back. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to sing?"
Quinn shrugged indifferently. "Thank you, but I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Welker pretty much begged me to sing when she found out I could. I didn't really have a choice but to agree."
"Well, it is a big deal. And seriously, you were incredible. Flawless as always," Santana told her with a smile.
"Always," Quinn confirmed, nodding before she found Santana's lips again. "But, umm," she went on a moment later, "can we go somewhere else now? It's freezing out here."
Santana chuckled. "Of course. Do you want to go back in?" Quinn shook her head quickly.
"Definitely not. I've had enough of my wonderful fellow lawyers for one night. Let's ditch this place."
"You sure? I don't want you leaving just because of me," Santana said.
"I'm completely sure," Quinn answered. "Let's go."
"Okay, one thing first. You may be on your way to becoming a lawyer, but you are neither boring nor uptight. Just so you know." Santana grinned at her girlfriend.
"Is that so?" Quinn returned with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes," Santana replied, nodding. "You're quite the opposite of uptight. You're rather…loose, if you know what I mean." She winked at Quinn, causing the blonde's jaw to drop in mock horror.
"Excuse me, no sexual innuendoes where people can overhear you, please."
Santana made a point to look every which way before responding. "There isn't a single soul around," she said innocently.
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Lopez. Come on, before I lose one of my toes from this cold."
"After you, my lady."
Song used was "We Belong" by Pat Benatar (seriously, go listen to it if you've never heard it)
Also! Next chapter - back to Lima we go! :)