Day 2: Pink haired Skanks! Quinn and HBIC Cheerios! Santana

Title: The Rocker and the Groupie

Rating: T for language, drug references

Word Count: 5,640

Pairing: Quinn/Santana

Summary: Quinn and her band of Skanks are off touring state venues in hopes of making it big, but when their opening act has a certain cheerleader in their graces, Quinn can't help but take the challenge.

Day 2 is here and I told you guys it'd be a little later till I posted on fanfiction, but it is finally here. Tomorrow's will be up with the Tumblr one since I am off from work. But enjoy this one and let me know what you think.

…

Lima, Ohio

March 27th, 2012—The Skanks at 8:00 p.m. sharp

It seems as if that's what all the flyers say in big letters for the last three or four towns that Quinn and her band have toured through in Sheila's "shit van" as Quinn likes to call it. It breaks down every hundred or so miles and she'd have to get under the hood and work her magic just to get it to run to the next town to get proper care.

While Quinn takes in the newest venue they're about to perform in, she sees the town is nothing, but a rundown piece of shit. They passed a sign that said Lima Bean, Ohio or something like that, Quinn didn't care to notice.

As they unpacked their amps and instruments, they brought it all around back to the opened door. The idea of starting the Skanks truly came when Quinn got into some old records her awesome aunt had in her attic. She began listening to old Runaways and Joan Jett albums for hours upon days even that she grew accustomed physically sounding like the rock and roll legend.

She sets up the microphone and amps with her fellow Skanks as the front door busts open and a bunch of boys roam in. Quinn has to shield her eyes from the glowing sun that's completely overpowering their silhouettes.

"Yo what do you need?" Sheila yells over in the direction of the busting door. A guy with a Mohawk fully walks in and Quinn had to admit, his hair was pretty kick ass.

"Hey we're your opening act, we're the New Directions," Quinn looks at him confused since the flyer mentioned nothing about an opening act. She hops off the stage and walks around him, his eyes following her every move in awe.

"We don't have an opening act," she grumbles, walking past him and out the door past a preppy looking blonde boy with his arm slinked around a feisty looking brunette. Quinn stops in her tracks as her eyes cast on the beauty. She's nuzzling her nose into his neck and she finds herself wishing it was her that she was nibbling on, not that big lipped mutant.

"Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer," the brunette huffs, staring right at her with big brown eyes wider than saucers. She's probably used to having people cower in fear at her feisty attitude, but she certainly wasn't going to back down.

Quinn smirks in her direction. "Yeah I should, it's not every day that I see the Princess and the Frog macking," she retorts walking fully back to their van and opening the back doors and hoping in.

She throws random articles of clothing and magazines, looking for something in particular when a body stands in the doorway.

"Hold up, you think because you have pink hair and you're in a band that you could just try and insult me and my boyfriend like that? I will ends you, do you hear me?" the girl yells and Quinn bends over the front seats to grab her pack of cigarettes, placing them in her back pocket and her lighter. "Are you listening to me?"

Quinn turns around finally eying her up and down with an amused expression. The girl has her hands on her hips as Quinn makes her way out of the van. She hops down from it and stands in front of her, pulling out her pack and lightening one.

"I think the correct term is end, but you were very close. Don't worry, I didn't insult you," she tells her, placing her finger under the girl's chin and gently strokes underneath it, before retracting it back and inhales her cigarette. She turns around to close the doors of the van and walks around the back, leaving the brunette baffled.

Quinn walks back into the venue as Sheila and the rest of the band talk to the guy from the other band. She holds the cigarette between her fingers as she inhales another puff. Sheila finally looks up and sees Quinn walking over to them.

"Q they're our opening act for the rest of our tour," she tells her, holding a piece of paper with the other band's manager's signature with the rest of the venues listings. Quinn places the burning bud on the paper and dabs it on the document.

"Whoa! Why the fuck would you do that?" He yells stealing the paper back and quickly dabs the ashes with the end of his shirt.

"First rule, you need to learn to make copies. Second off, you're only our opener which makes us more important. Thirdly, stay out of our way," Quinn replies in a monotone voice, before walking out the back as the guy with the Mohawk watches her retreating figure.

"She is so hot," he whispers, but her other band members heard it.

Sheila steps forward and pushes him, pointing her finger at him. "She gay you dumbass," she seethes to him in a warming, but he smirks at the gesture, before leaning down to her level.

"That only gives me more thrill for the chase babe," he tells her, before walking out front to talk with the rest of his band members about their set.

…

Buckland, Ohio

As Quinn drives along the highway, checking out her rearview mirror to see their opening act trailing behind, she inhales a puff of possibly her third cigarette since they've started their journey to the next town. The rest of the girls in the van all chatter away about their next gig and how kickass last night's was in Lima.

But the only thing Quinn could think about was that feisty Latina in the van behind them, possibly locking lips with frog lips. She had no right to even call him anything remotely rude, but he made it easy with a hot girlfriend. But the girl obviously didn't want to have anything to do with her otherwise she would've flirted with her like the rest of the wannabe groupies she seems to run into.

She has been getting her fair share of attention though—unwanted attention, but her share from the Mohawk guy that she later discovered his name was Noah Puckerman, but he went by Puck. Only reason she knew his full name was because their drummer, Finn had a big mouth and embarrassed him with his full name. Quinn found it endearing that the boy was trying to get her attention, even with the reminder Sheila had to give him.

She inhaled another puff of the tobacco, letting it fill her lungs up before she exhaled, turning off their exit and entering yet another small town.

"Shit when are we going to tour bigger cities like Columbus or Cincinnati?" Sheila asks with a huff as her feet sit on the dashboard and her arms cross on her chest.

Quinn lolls her head to the side, looking over in her direction. "When we get an opening act—oh wait," she jests, causing Sheila to shake her head and give a mere eye roll. "We'll get there, just have faith. All great bands got to start somewhere," she says, parking off to the side in front of a bar. She pulls the key out of the ignition and hops out the front as Puck does the same with Finn close behind and froggy lips with the feisty Latina. Quinn couldn't believe she never got their names yet.

"We'll set up. You can just use our stuff before us," Sheila tells them as she pops the back doors of the van opened, but Puck stops her.

"We got our own instruments. We'll use your amps though," he tells her as Quinn picks up one of the amps and tosses it in his direction, catching him off guard.

"Oh shit!" He grumbles, catching it with both hands and struggling instantly with the weight of it.

"Got a problem there—Puck?" Quinn teases, giving him a slightly seductive look and he gulps, shaking his head quickly. He recovers quickly, showing his masculinity, carrying it to the venue. Sheila looks up at her and they exchange a few amused looks and Quinn turns back to the Latina, who's too busy nuzzling with her boyfriend again.

"Yo groupie! Can you carry this please?" Sheila yells over in their direction. The girl removes her lips from the guy's neck and narrows her eyes at the other girl. She rolls her eyes and takes the microphone stand from Sheila, huffing and heads inside.

Quinn hops off the back and carries an amp in as Sheila smacks her ass, knowing exactly what she's doing and only decides to encourage it further.

Quinn walks in right next to the girl. "Your girlfriend's a bitch," she grumbles to Quinn, who chuckles deeply at the remark.

"She's not my girlfriend, but it takes one to know one, doesn't it?" Quinn asks walking a little bit further ahead to turn and walk backwards.

"How are you carrying that so effortlessly?" She asks in disbelief and Quinn looks down at the amp and shrugs. "Puck was struggling like you wouldn't believe, but you—you're just carrying it in one hand, like it's nothing," she continues further and Quinn smirks.

"You think your girlfriend would be able to carry this as effortlessly as I could?" She retorts back and the girl stops mid step.

"That's my boyfriend, not my girlfriend. I don't do girls—well much," she mumbles the last part with a shrug and Quinn merely smirks at her words.

"Oh I apologize, he must've thrown me off a bit with his Ellen Degeneres look," she steps up the stairs and places the amp down, going in the back to plug it in. The girl hands her the stand and narrows her eyes at Quinn.

"Why do you hate him so much? You don't even know him," she asks, placing her hand on her hips and Quinn just shakes her head.

"I don't. I just like making you upset," she shrugs and the girl raises her hands in the air. "See? Look how sexy you look when you're angry," she throws at her with a small smile and the girl just rolls her eyes.

"I'm always sexy," the girl replies confidently and Quinn holds her hands up in front of her.

"Oh you don't have to tell me twice," she laughs, raising the stand up just enough to get to Puck's height. "What's your name?" She finally takes a chance, not wanting to keep calling her the feisty Latina.

The girl looks away, almost as if she's debating on telling her the truth, before giving in. "Santana. Santana Lopez," she sighs and Quinn nods slowly.

"And your boyfriend?" She quirks an eyebrow, so she doesn't have to keep calling him the Frog.

"Sam Evans," she replies instantly and Quinn smirks.

"I like the Frog better,"

…

The Skanks mobile sits outside a motel, while the girls stay packed away inside, the guys sit in their comfy motel rooms, along with Santana. Quinn's convinced that Santana and Sam are sharing a bed and she cringes at the thought of them doing anything—the kissing is barely enough for her to stomach.

While the rest of the girls sleep, Quinn sits up from her makeshift bed in the back and wraps her sheet around her body to shield herself from the cool wind that picks up in the night. She opens one of the backdoors quietly, placing her boots on and hops on top of the van to sit on top of it.

She pulls out a new pack of cigarettes and unwraps it, lighting it and taking a drag off it. She looks around tiredly, taking in the cool air with a sigh. Her life seemed so spontaneous and carefree these days and she loved every bit of it. She really wanted this band to be something—something huge, but isn't that what every unsigned band wants?

"You know smoking kills right?" She hears above her. She looks up into the night sky and instantly sees Santana on the second floor, looking down at her with a smirk.

Quinn returns it and swats away the smoke. "Is it in your way now?" She jokes, taking another drag watching as Santana rolls her eyes again. "You should stop doing that," she states.

"And why should I?" She asks leaning forward, crossing her arms over herself to shield her arms from the cold.

"Your face may stay like that and I'd hate for a beautiful face to go to waste," she replies, inhaling another bit of her cigarette.

Santana stays silent for a moment, trying to get a grasp on the situation. She barely knows Quinn and she already can't stand her. She makes fun of her boyfriend and his lips. Sure they're huge in an amphibious sort of way, but she liked them. She liked sucking on them and that wasn't a bad thing.

But Quinn was—something. She really couldn't quite place the right words into formation. The girl certainly was as strong willed as she was; something Sam lacked. Not that Santana is comparing them or anything because that'd be ridiculous.

"You can come with us in our van if you want tomorrow," Quinn's voice breaks her out of her train of thought. She stares down at the girl, who throws her bud off in the parking lot somewhere, before exhaling the smoke through her nose. "I'm sure the guys are fantastic, but it probably isn't fun to hear burps and farts for hours on end," she adds and Santana couldn't agree more with that. Even though she's riding with her boyfriend, there were sometimes burping contests and Santana wasn't fond of that sort of thing.

She nods at Quinn, taking her up on her offer and Quinn returns it with a small smile. "Sweet dreams Santana," she tells her and Quinn lays down on the top of the van, wrapping her sheet entirely around her. Santana stands there in complete and utter confusion—wouldn't it be more comfortable to sleep inside with the rest of the girls?

…

Cridersville, Ohio

"Come on, you should try it," Sheila tells Santana as they sit in the back. One of the other Skanks is driving, while Quinn sits up front with the window down. Her feet are up on the dashboard and she is switching her vision from the rearview mirror to the windshield.

She looks through the rearview and sees Sheila offering Santana a joint. She loved her friend, but drugs were something she didn't participate in for her own personal reasons.

"Um no, it's okay," Santana declines and Sheila forces it forward to her anyway, not taking no for an answer.

"Come on, it's not bad," she insists and Quinn just rolls her eyes, trying her best not to get involved—holy crap, I rolled my eyes? Her eyes widen at the action she just did and quickly covers it up.

"It's not that I haven't tried it, it's just that—well I'm in cheerleading, so they do random drug tests," she says back and Quinn's ears perk up at this brand new piece of information.

"Cheerleading? You're in college, right?" Sheila asks and Santana nods. "Where at?" she takes a drag of her joint, her face scrunching up a little at the effect it's having on her.

"Um…Ohio State," she grimaces at the girl and her eyes widen at the realization.

"Oh my God, you're a Cheerio?" Sheila belts out in shock and Santana's eyes widen at the enthusiasm, but nods.

"Head Cheerio, actually. I'm just on Spring Break, so I thought I'd travel around with Sam," she tells her proudly and Sheila wraps her arms around her shoulder hard.

"Girl that's awesome! But it's okay about the weed, because like—Quinn over there," she points at Quinn in the front seat, who pretends she doesn't hear them talking about her. "Yeah, she doesn't do drugs either. We do that hard shit, but she doesn't because she's a—pussy! Ain't that right Quinnie?" Sheila yells at the end, almost like she's drunk, but in reality just extremely high from the amounts of weed and cocaine in her system.

Quinn turns around and looks Santana in the eyes. She almost looks curious, but Quinn's eyes just harbor a deep secret. She just nods to agree with Sheila, when Santana really knew that wasn't the case.

They pull off the exit and while the town is bigger, the venue is smaller, but they roll with the punches anyway.

Quinn instantly hops out of the front and opens the backdoors, fishing out one of the amps as Santana rounds the corner and is met with Sam, kissing her.

"Hey, I missed you on the ride up," he tells her and she smiles warmly at him, returning the kiss.

"Missed you too," she replies briefly, before stopping Quinn from pulling everything forward.

"Can I take the stand again?" She asks her and Quinn looks at her curiously, before nodding and handing it to her, before they take their walk inside.

It's silent for a moment—usually this would be the time when the banter starts, but there wasn't any. After the night at the motel, it seemed as if they were on some form of understanding—an understanding they couldn't figure out.

"What Sheila said about the drugs thing—," Santana began as they walked down the hall and Quinn slowed her pace, keeping her eyes peeled forward. Santana didn't know how to finish her statement. She didn't know if she should even try and she didn't even think it was her business.

Quinn licked her lips, before stopping to a halt. "I've been doing this a long time. Maybe three years, but that's awhile for me. And anyway, I got into some trouble back when we started and I sold things to feed a habit I didn't even know I had. Next thing I know, I'm selling my body to women drug dealers in hopes to get a good size of—really any drug I could think of," she confesses and Santana watches her—the way her vulnerability shows visibly in her eyes and facial expression.

"I'm not perfect and I certainly don't claim to be, but now I'm in this band for the music—the way it was supposed to be in the beginning. I want to end up like Bon Jovi or U2, where I don't have to sell out to the party scene to make myself seem cool. What makes me cool is the music and lyrics I sing, not the behind the scenes," she explains further, starting up her walk again.

Santana begins walking again with her as her eyes cast downward. She nods as the words replay in her head and she licks her lips. "Sam does E and smokes weed. I can't stand it because all he wants to do is have sex during his high and I don't know, it's just not as memorable when that happens," she shrugs insecurely and Quinn pulls the stand up on the stage as they finally reach it.

"That's because it isn't," Quinn simply states, meeting Santana's eyes. "When you're on E, you don't remember a damn thing during your high. You don't remember what you did that night or who you did that night, but you do know that it heightens the orgasms—at least from what I've heard from the participants I've been with," she explains further and Santana looks down slightly floored at the information that she just heard. The more she thought about it the more she felt like Sam never wanted to remember the times they've been intimate, and that truly hurt.

…

Wapakoneta, Ohio

"What the hell? I can't even fucking pronounce this town," Sheila tosses the map behind her as Quinn has the driver's seat and Santana sits in the back with the rest of the group. Quinn mentally thanked the Lord that Santana decided to ride with them again, after Sheila's drug banters. "Yo Q, do you have a cig?" She asks annoyed and Quinn just shakes her head at her. "What? C'mon! Don't fucking hog them!" She yells and Quinn rolls her eyes.

"I don't have any," she replies and this catches all the girls' attention, including Santana's. Usually every time they turn around she has a cigarette in her hand.

"Dude, seriously stop lying," Sheila holds her hand out and Quinn glances back at her then at the road.

"I am serious. I don't have any—I decided to quit," she shrugs and switches lanes, while her entire band starts raising hell about it being ridiculous. Quinn rolls her eyes, trying her best to ignore the three girls, before she pulls off to the side and slams on the breaks hard. She puts her hazards on and turns around to all of them.

"Shut the fuck up!" She yells, looking at the three girls—sidestepping Santana, since she isn't the problem. "God! I am so fucking tired of you guys bullshitting me! I quit smoking cigarettes, get the fuck over it and Sheila, don't ever fucking call me a pussy again about not doing drugs because you know exactly why I'm not doing them. Just stop with your bullshit, continue playing because we love it and shut the fuck up, got it?" She seethes to them and the girls all exchange looks and one of her band members finally spoke up.

"I just want to know why. It's your life Q, but why the sudden decision?" She asks and she glances over at Santana, who is looking back right at her and then she turns back to the one who spoke up.

"I'm tired of being a fuck up and—smoking kills," she side glances Santana again, who looks down, trying to hide a grin that's forming across her lips. Quinn turns around and starts the van again to continue onward on the highway.

…

Dayton, Ohio

Quinn is up on the stage, plugging in the amps and instruments, when Santana slowly strides up to the stage. She pans her vision to take in the entire venue, before placing her attention back on the female rocker.

"Biggest venue yet," she comments, nodding slowly and Quinn looks up and shrugs, before turning her attention back to the equipment.

"I haven't noticed," she mumbles, but it could be heard by the other girl. She walks over to Quinn and she kneels down to her level, watching what she's doing.

Sam is out back with Puck and the rest of the guys and girls, while they do their "ritual highs" as Santana has grown accustomed to calling it, which is basically when they all get shitfaced before their gigs. Santana just scoffs though because as much as she loved the whole band thing, the New Directions are no Nirvana.

"I'm guessing everyone is out killing themselves," Quinn grumbles as she remains focused on the wires as Santana sits down on the stage, crossing her legs, before nodding distantly. Quinn looks up at her and takes in her demeanor. She sighs and stops what she's doing, before sitting down in front of her.

"Look if you don't like what he's doing tell him you'll leave him," she says bluntly and Santana scrunches her face up in disbelief.

"You don't even know him! I couldn't do that," she defends and Quinn places her hand on her exposed thigh softly and never has Santana felt such a soft touch before, but she couldn't deny she didn't like it, so she left her hand there.

"I'm not trying to upset you this time—like I said as adorable as it is, I'm really trying to help you out," she explains and Santana relaxes. "I know that sometimes when people do drugs they don't want to stop till someone close to them gives them an ultimatum," she adds and Santana looks down at Quinn's hand still resting on her thigh—it's warm and tender and she really just loved every minute of it sitting there.

"I—um—what if he doesn't do it? I can't be there to keep an eye on him. I leave tomorrow morning to head back to school," she states and Quinn retracts her hand like she had been burned. She didn't want Santana to leave—she liked having her there.

But this was Quinn's fantasy. Santana was never going to be hers and she had to accept that. She stands up and leaves the girl on the floor, holding her hand out for her to take. Santana does so and Quinn pulls her up off the floor.

"That's your decision. If you want to continue to put up with it then do it, but be strong enough to let go, when it gets too much," she tells her, before hopping off the stage to grab some of the remaining equipment outside as Santana watches her retreating figure.

A feeling in her stomach grows and she feels her chest restricting. She isn't sure what it is, but she knew she never had this feeling with Sam or anybody else she's been with before and while she watches Quinn walk away, she finds herself wishing for something else.

Quinn is in the back as the venue is packed to the bone. The New Directions are up performing their set as the girls stay in back, preparing for their own set. Quinn stays silent as she runs the lyrics over in her head as if it was a test and it was pass or fail. She hated feeling so nervous every time she hit the stage. She's done this countless times, yet no matter what, it still caused a swarm in the pit of her stomach.

A knock on the door, knocked her out of her thoughts and Santana's head pops in. The girls all greet her and she offers them a smile, before shifting on her heels. She stands there awkwardly, before finally speaking.

"Can I have a word with Quinn for a moment?" She asks and they all look over at Quinn, who nods nonchalantly and they all just file out the door. Sheila shuts it behind her to leave them alone.

Santana takes a deep breath, before letting out a huge sigh. "I broke up with Sam," she simply states and Quinn remains silent, letting her continue. "I did what you said. I gave him a choice and he chose the drugs over me, so I dumped him and he didn't seem fazed. I'm assuming he was high when I told him, which means there's a chance he won't even remember the conversation," she explains further and Quinn nods.

"Yeah, but still, I'm sorry," she shrugs and Santana only sends a smirk her way.

"No you're not," she challenges and Quinn cracks a smile, chuckling at the retort.

"You're right I'm not," she says just as they're called on stage. Both girls can hear the cheering and Santana looks over at Quinn with a small smile, nudging her a little.

"Good luck out there," she smiles before strolling out of the room, glancing back giving her another smile, but warmer and slightly more flirtatious in Quinn's opinion, but after hearing the girl is no longer with her lesbian looking boyfriend, anything could look that way.

…

The next morning, Quinn pops her head out of the van in front of another motel. She looks off in the distance and sees Sam and Santana fighting—well Santana just looked pissed and Sam just looked like a lost puppy. Quinn didn't mean to stare—okay she did, but it was mainly to see if Santana was alright. She had every attention on stepping in if things got bad, but from the looks of it the feisty Latina could handle herself.

Quinn sighed as she walked into the laundry room in the motel. Don't ask why there is one, Quinn certainly didn't question it. She pulls her shirt over her head and pulls her skirt off, tossing it in the washer with some other random articles.

She slips in the quarters and watches as it fills up, stealing soap from a lady discreetly. She stands there as the only other person folds the simple articles of clothing, before walking out. Quinn begins pacing back and forth impatiently when she finally stops and sees Santana standing in the doorway.

"You do realize you're in public right?" Santana asks and Quinn looks down. She's in her bra and some boy shorts. She looks back up at the smirking brunette and shrugs. Santana shakes her head at the girl baffled by her confidence and her strange ways. She doesn't question them, but she finds them—hot, she would say.

"So how did round two of the break up go?" Quinn asks as the washer stops and she pulls her clothes out and places them in the dryer across from her.

Santana sighs deeply and shakes her head. "Same as yesterday only he was a little more pathetic and sympathetic. I still ended it though. I can't deal with that anymore," she waves off and Quinn nods, placing the quarters in as the dryer kicks on.

"I want to thank you though," she adds and Quinn leans against the washers, fiddling with her fingers randomly to keep herself busy. "If it wasn't for what you said, I probably would still be in an emotionally draining relationship," Quinn looks up to the waiting brown eyes and she just offers her a small smile and a nod. She didn't know how to respond because she feels like she hasn't done anything.

Santana slowly makes her way over to her and licks her lips subconsciously. They stand only a few inches away and Quinn looks down at her lips non-purposefully. She wanted to latch on to them and she wanted them latched on to her—every part of her.

Santana's breath hitches in her throat as she takes in Quinn's stare. It's intense and full of want. Santana leans in, wanting to taste those lips. Quinn leans forward as well, fully ready to suck on that jutted bottom lip.

Buzz.

They pull away quickly with a jump and Quinn looks down at the dryer, pulling it open to slip her shirt back on and her skirt, while she folds two random articles of clothing in silence. She and Santana don't make eye contact and they don't speak because Quinn is fully aware something is there between them. The fact that Santana is going back to college in a few hours is only confirmation that perhaps nothing will ever happen. A Spring Break fling will be the only thing they are because look at her, she's not exactly 'meet the parents' material, well if she colored her hair back to blonde; possibly.

To be honest, I'd totally debate that if Santana wanted me to.

She sighs deeply and walks around Santana, before stopping at the doorway. She turns around to face her and leans forward on her boots.

"It was nice having you around. Don't be a stranger, huh?" Quinn says as Santana turns around to meet her eyes. She doesn't nod or say anything—just stares, while Quinn steps back out into the sun. Santana stands in the laundry mat alone, contemplating what she should do. She really didn't want to just forget all about Quinn entirely and she certainly didn't want to leave things like this.

She licks her lips and finally steps out to look for Quinn and it wasn't difficult because the girl was back at the van. The rest of her crew and the boys were off doing their own thing, neither girl cared to find out. As she approaches Quinn, she turns her around and pushes her against the van firmly, before capturing her lips with her own.

Quinn is set in a world of shock, but recovers quickly as she kisses back. She places her hands on Santana's waist, pulling her closer as she finds herself sucking on her bottom lip. It entices a moan from the brunette as their tongues work around each other. Both feeling that same sensation building in their stomachs, before pulling away breathless.

Quinn tries to form words, but all that comes out are small puffs of breath and Santana can't help but laugh. "I've render you speechless," she comments and Quinn chuckles at that.

"It would appear so," she replies and Santana tugs at the hem of Quinn's shirt, just to keep herself distracted.

"Look I don't know what this is, but maybe if you're in Columbus, you'll come by and we'll figure it out," Santana shrugs and Quinn leans forward, taking her lips in her own again, much softer than Santana did.

She pulls away and nuzzles her nose into Santana's neck, making her giggle. She kisses along her neck and mumbles "I've wanted to do that since I laid eyes on you,"

Santana closes her eyes at the soft lips attaching to her neck, before she wraps her arms tightly around Quinn's body, breathing in every part of her. She honestly never thought she'd be in this position with her and if you told her five days ago she would be, she would've laughed her ass off.

Okay that's it and Day 3's theme will be College!AU, so that will be up on Tumblr at 1 p.m. as will this, so look out for it tomorrow. Thank you to the few who reviewed on the last one. I'm pretty sure majority of you already read it on Tumblr, so I appreciate the reviews I've gotten for that first day.