A/N: Here it is! Huh. I planned for tomorrow but hey, this is even better, right? Hey, if you meet the Beta requirements, please PM me. I really don't know how those work.

Disclaimer: Glee's still not mine. Bummer :(

Chapter 4: Basket Ball Shorts

"Fuck!" Quinn yelled. Santana hovered over her, pressing her core against Quinn's. Quinn grabbed Santana's ass and started kneading it, attempting to pull the girl even closer. "Mmmph," Quinn whimpered. Santana lowered herself, kissing Quinn's stomach as she went. When she ran her tongue over the blonde's core, Quinn's eyes rolled back. She snuck her tongue in and Quinn gasped. Santana winced in pain when Quinn's nails dug into her hair.

"Dammit Q, loosen up a little," Santana hummed. Quinn moaned in response, it sounded like a strangled 'sorry.' Santana rolled her eyes and made little circle's on Quinn until she could feel the girl shaking. Then, she started pumping her tongue in and out. She stopped trying to hold Quinn's hips still and let her rock against her face. "Santana!" She screamed out. But Santana refused to stop. She massaged Quinn with two fingers before gingerly slipping them in, earning baby whimpers from Quinn. When she came again, Santana gasped. Quinn rolled against her face one last time, then started panting.

"Not done yet," Santana moaned. Quinn whined and tried to wiggle away.

"Stop, I can't take anymore," Quinn told her. Santana came back up and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

"You are the sweetest girl I've ever eaten, by far. I could do it for the rest of my life."

Quinn turned to face Santana after catching her breath. "Are you going to say that every time, you goober?"

"You are not going to call me a goober after I made you come. Twice. In record time, I might add."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "You cried like a goober the whole time."

"You were pulling my hair out!"

"And you are such a trooper," Quinn smiled and pulled Santana into a deep kiss.

"Pucks getting even more suspicious by the way. He keeps on asking why I keep leaving and coming back with new hickies."

"Sorry, I like to make my mark."

Now it was Santana's turn to roll her eyes.

"Just tell him," Quinn said, "he won't care."

"I wasn't worried about him, just you."

"You worry about me?" Quinn teased.

"No," Santana replied. "Maybe sometimes."

"Aw, how sweet. Now get up and make me a sandwich." Quinn shoved her.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Santana arched an eyebrow.

"I made breakfast last time. Make me a sandwich." Quinn told her. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But call me your sandwich bitch, and I will end you." Santana stated as she started to get up. Quinn pushed her back down and straddled her, immediately finding Santana's weak spot on her neck.

"Who are you?" Quinn asked.

"Not gonna happen," Santana moaned. Quinn grinned against her and asked again. "I'm your sandwich bitch! Fuck!"

"That's what I thought," Quinn hopped off and gave her a wink. "I prefer turkey. No mayo please."

"Yeah, whatever." They walked to the kitchen together, both of them just dressed in random clothing that was tossed to the floor. Santana was pretty sure that she was wearing Quinn's shorts.

"Oh, you're here," Quinn said in surprise. Sugar was sitting down at the table reading a magazine.

"Yeah, I just let myself in about a minute ago."

Quinn blushed at the thought of Sugar hearing what she and Santana were doing. "Um, okay. Santana's making lunch, are you hungry?"

"Hey!" Santana said as she took the mustard out of the fridge.

"Oh, it's fine. I ate before I came." Sugar shrugged.

"Wanky," Santana muttered. Quinn looked at her with an arched eyebrow, Santana clicked her tongue and winked.

"Where'd that come from?" Sugar asked. She pointed at a new coffee machine that sat on the kitchen counter; it was definitely out of Quinn's price range.

"San got it for me." It was true. Santana sashayed into Quinn's apartment about an hour before they did the deed with a gift.

"I see you got yourself a sugar mama. Must be the sex. Sorry, aspergers."

"What did you just call me?" Santana asked.

"San…" Quinn warned.

"Sorry." Santana said under her breath, turning back to the sandwich.

"Whipped," Sugar sang, "and she's not even your girlfriend."

Santana turned swiftly and glared at Sugar. Then she smirked. "I know that look. You're jealous."

"Of you?" Sugar laughed. Quinn shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"San, what are you talking about?" Quinn asked. Santana wore a smug smile and turned back to the sandwich. She placed it neatly on a plate and handed it to Quinn. Before the blonde could say a word, Santana cupped her cheek and kissed her for a solid six seconds, then looked at Sugar. She was beet red.

"She's jealous because she wants to get in your pants." Santana said bluntly. Then she bit her lip and winced, "Sorry, aspergers."

"You don't even have it!" Sugar spat.

"You're not the only one who can self diagnose."

"Bitch!"

"And fucking proud!" Santana yelled back.

"Can we just have a civilized lunch! God." Quinn said.

"Sorry," both Sugar and Santana said. Bickering had become a frequent thing for them lately.

"Thank you." Quinn sighed. "And thanks for the sandwich, babe."

Santana arched an eyebrow and Quinn's eyes widened. "No problem...babe."

Santana and Puck were walking around the park when things got a little hectic. She was trying to explain her situation with Quinn, when a girl who looked no older than eighteen approached her.

"Are you Santana Lopez?" The girl asked. Santana nodded. "And you're Noah?" Puck nodded and the girl's smile grew even wider. "Can I please get a picture?" The girl asked Puck. He nodded with a smile.

"Of course."

"Great, thanks!" The girl placed a phone in Puck's hands and stepped closer to Santana.

"Damn, Noah. Hows that ego?" Santana laughed as she put her arm around the girl's waist.

"It's wounded," Puck frowned sarcastically.

"Thank you so much," the girl told Puck. Then she turned her attention back to Santana. "I'm, like, in love with you."

"Aw, thank you! I love you too..?"

"Kitty. My names Kitty," the girl smiled. Santana grinned in return.

"Kitty."

"I found you guys on YouTube before all of my friends did. So like, I've been a fan since the beginning." Kitty smiled.

"Thank you so much, that means a lot," Santana said. "I'll tell you what. Since you're such an amazing fan, why don't you tell me your Twitter name?"

"You made a twitter?" Kitty nearly shouted.

"Yesterday, actually. I was avoiding it, but a friend of mine made it for me." Quinn.

"That's amazing! Um, it's kittylikestocheer." Kitty blushed.

"I'm guessing you're a cheerleader?" Santana laughed as she looked up her name. She followed it.

"I am," Kitty smiled.

"It was really nice meeting you, Kitty."

"Thank you so, so, so much!"

"Anytime," Santana gave her a wink. She walked away with Puck. "You mad?"

"No. I just think that people should like us equally, you know?" Puck pouted.

"Don't be such a goober," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Goober? That sounds like...no way!" Puck shouted. Santana pursed her lips together. "No fucken way! You've been hooking up with Quinn!"

"Maybe…"

"Santana! You fucking dork, you could have told me!" Puck laughed. Santana shrugged.

"I know you two have a history-"

"San, that was like, four or five years ago. It's safe to say that I'm over her."

"Just wanted to make sure!" Santana smiled. "We're not in item or anything, but something is happening. It's more like I take her out or cook something and my reward is sex. Or, more so her reward-"

"As much as I'd love to continue this conversation," Puck said, "it looks like we have company." He pointed at a small crowd of people. Within minutes the crowd grew, all of them were fully aware of who Santana and Puck were.

"Can we get out of here?" Santana said over her shoulder, in Puck's ear. He nodded and gave someone back there pen.

"Alright, we love you guys, but we gotta go!" Puck shouted over the crowd. He took Santana's hand and they ran. Most of the people left them alone, but about four of them decided to chase after them.

"You're shitting me," Santana muttered. The made a quick turn and hid behind a wall, then watched their followers run by.

"That was fucking crazy." Puck breathed. After a few seconds, they both busted out laughing.

"I guess this is where it really starts." Santana smiled.

"It was so crazy, Q!" Santana said into the phone. She was laying in her hotel on the bed.

"How crazy?" Quinn asked.

"It started off with one girl, and five minutes later there was this whole swarm of people. It was fucking loco." Santana replied. Quinn hummed.

"Was she hot?"

"She kind of looked like you."

"She was really hot then." Quinn giggled. Santana shook her head.

"You're almost as cocky as me." Santana sighed. "I told Puck. You were right, he didn't care. If anything he's just happy I'm getting laid."

"You are a grouch when you go a while without sex." Quinn muttered.

"I'm feeling a little upset right now.."

"Shut up!" Quinn hissed.

"Hey that one wasn't that bad," Santana said.

"No, not you," Quinn grumbled.

"Let me guess, Sugar?"

"Bingo."

"Want me to come over and rescue you?" Santana sat up and crossed her legs.

"I promised her a movie," Quinn whispered.

"I honestly don't care." Santana told her. She could practically see Quinn rolling her eyes. "Say the word and I'll come get you and make you forget your full name."

Quinn laughed. "Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass. besides, after the movie I have work."

"Or you can, like, not." Santana told her. The more time she spends with Quinn, the more she hates the idea of the blonde giving anyone else a lap dance. But still, they weren't officially dating. Just friends...who have sex often.

"And bury myself deeper in bills? No thanks. I like having a place to live."

"Speaking of places to stay," Santana said to avoid the sore subject, "I need to find one soon."

"Santana…"

"Jesus, Quinn, chill. I'm not going to show up at your apartment with a U-Haul, I was talking about my own place."

"You worried me for a second. Where are you thinking?"

"That's the thing...I don't know if I want to stay here. I have a lot of labels calling for Puck and I. In LA."

"Oh.." Quinn said. "That's great."

"There's one that I talked to that night we performed at Sweet Mota."

"Please don't tell me you're considering it."

"I don't know." Santana shrugged. She kind of wanted to stay close to Quinn.

"So you're going to find a place out here?"

"Yeah, a little loft. Eventually a penthouse." Santana smiled and let herself fall backwards. She rolled over to her stomach and closed her eyes.

"Oh yeah?"

"My goal is the Top of The World, mami."

"Why are you all dressed up?" Santana asked.

"Why are you in basketball shorts?" Quinn said with just as much sass as Santana.

"Classy!" Sugar called from inside.

"Does she fucking live with you or something?"

"No. Well, kind of?" Quinn said. "What are we doing?"

"Getting you into some comfy clothes. While that dress looks particularly attractive on you, I don't think it'll suit what we're doing."

"And what would that be?"

"Basketball. Duh." Santana told her.

"Oh, how did I not guess that?" Quinn said sarcastically. Santana let herself in when Quinn walked away.

"Sup, bitch face." Sugar greeted.

"Nice seeing you again, puto perdedor." Santana smiled.

"I don't know what you said, but I swear to god, if you put a curse on me-"

"Wow, way to be racist."

Sugar shrugged, "Aspergers."

"Bullshit. Now, if you'll excuse me, puto perdedor, I have to go help Quinn get off. I ment undress. Hell, take it how you want."

Sugar flipped her off while Santana smiled smugly and went up the narrow staircase to Quinn's room. When she walked in, Quinn was wearing a t-shirt but wasn't in pants yet. Santana immediately pushed her onto the bed and straddled her. She leaned down and pecked Quinn's lips, then got up, earning a whimper from Quinn.

"Santana, what did I tell you about doing that?" Quinn asked as she slowly sat up.

"Doing what?" Santana asked innocently.

"You're an asshole," Quinn grumbled. Santana shrugged in return.

"Quinn!" Sugar yelled from the living room.

"Sugar, I will end you if you keep on-"

"Oh shove it Santana! Quinn I really think you should come out here! Like now!" Sugar shouted. Santana arched an eyebrow at Quinn, who looked just as confused as she was. Quinn slid in a pair of pants, then the two of them went to go see what Sugar was fussing about. Quinn stopped in her tracks when she saw a tall man standing in her living room beside a very nervous Sugar.

"Who are you?" Quinn asked. Santana crossed her arms.

"My name is Dennis Michaels. I'm your sister, Frannie Boyd's, lawyer." The man held out his hand.

"Alright, is there a reason you're here, Mr. Michaels?" Quinn asked nervously as she handed her his hand to shake.

"What I'm about to tell you, I could not possibly say over the phone from Paris-"

"Frannie is in Paris?" Quinn gasped.

Dennis cleared his throat. "Would you like to hear this alone, or-"

"No. Whatever you have to say can be said in front of these two." Quinn said firmly.

"Then you might want to take a seat."

To be continued...

A/N- oh dang who's that guy? Haha. Please let me know if you see any errors and I'll edit asap! I never see the rest until after I post.

Spanish translations: Puto Perdedor- Fucking Loser

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