Chapter 9: Night Out

A/N: First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed. I was dealing with my finals and super stressed when I read them and they actually made me smile like an idiot for a while. THANKS. This chapter was kinda ready – at least the dialogues were, and then another fic came and took over my life. But I'm back. So yeah. Enjoy!

Ps. I'm lowering the rating down to T, since I don't think we will be going where the M rating is needed. Maybe one day, I will actually be able to write smut without making myself constantly face-palm. Until then, sorry to disappoint.

I should have known, Quinn thought to herself. She and Santana had been friends for almost a decade now. So she really should have known something was up when Santana greeted them with a sly grin on her face. If that wasn't telling enough, Quinn should have realized it when Santana actually addressed Rachel with her name. No nicknames. When has that ever happened? Stupid, stupid brain. So Quinn leaned back against the wall and mentally berated herself as she watched Rachel try to fend of yet another hot lesbian who was currently hitting on her.

A freaking gay club. Maybe Santana is right. Maybe she really can sense it. Damn. The blonde watched Santana chat up a few girls at the bar and dance with them. Is that even dancing? She's basically having public sex. Is my face on fire? I feel as if my face was on fire. I wonder if anybody else can tell if I'm gay.

"Oh my god. That woman wouldn't take no for an answer," Rachel made her way back to where the blonde was hiding with two blue drinks in her hands.

"What is that? It looks like some kind of cleaning liquid." The blonde grabbed one glass and investigated.

"We need it to survive here. Drink up." Quinn watched, amazed by the way the tiny brunette chugged the drink effortlessly. "I think I might like blue drinks very much."

"I think you might, as well," said the blonde, chuckling to herself. "I also think you should pace yourself."

"You know I had no idea she would bring us here, right? I haven't told her anything about… you know… what you told me last night in confidence. I wouldn't do that." Quinn just stared at Rachel, wondering if she did anything to make the brunette think she was mad at her.

"I know, Rach. This is pure Santana, anyway." She took a final sip of the toxic looking drink and grimaced. How the hell did she chug this thing? Ew.

"Are you okay?" And she's being considerate again. I will never like a decent human being again, ever, if I can get over this one day.

"Do I look like I'm okay?" Rachel blinked a couple of times when she heard the blonde's question. No, you look like a sex goddess who can get any girl here with just one look. Wow, that blue thing was strong. I wonder what blue would taste like on Quinn. What, no. Someone make my hormones stop. I should probably say something.

"Not really." She didn't really know what she was disagreeing with at the moment, but the face she received from Quinn indicated that the blonde found her answer amusing. Amusing is good. Amusing means I did not embarrass myself. Good going self! Now. Act straight – no. I mean act sober. SOBER. Act sober.

"Thanks for that." The blonde once again tore Rachel away from her thoughts.

"You know what I mean, Quinn." I mean sober. Right? Did I even say it out loud? God it's so loud here. "Would you like to leave?" Quinn was actually surprised at the question. The brunette seemed to be having quite a nice time judging by the smile on her face. Besides, she couldn't risk leaving now.

"And let Santana tease me about it for the rest of my life? Not really." Or worse, tell me stop being such a pressed lemon once again. What does that even mean? Is that a sex metaphor? Why lemons? Quinn stood there, waiting for Rachel to insist, but the brunette never did. She just nodded and stared at her eyes. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what the brunette was thinking. She wanted to look away and keep looking into the brown eyes. She wanted to say something, but didn't know what or how. So she stared back.

"Quinn! Stop sexing Berry up over there." They both jumped when Santana seemed to appear out of nowhere. Rachel wondered just how long they had been staring at each other silently. "Come out and dance! We're gonna brings this club down!" And with that, Santana was lost in the crowd, once again.

"Could she be more crude?"

"She could. Believe me, she could."

Santana disentangled herself from the drunken blonde she met at the dance floor with difficulty and made her way to the bar. I needs more drinks. She looked around to get the bartender's attention, but instead she found Rachel. The brunette seemed to be focusing all her attention at someone at the other end of the dance floor. Berry making a love connection? Wanky. She walked closer to her and leaned against the counter.

"What's up midget? Found anyone you like?" she asked with a devilish grin.

"I'm not here to hook up with anyone, Santana. And for your information, you're not that tall, either." Ugh. A simple no would have done it. She tried to glare at the brunette, but Rachel seemed way too preoccupied with the mystery blonde she was staring at. She decided to rile the brunette up to get information.

"But still, the bitches are dying to climb up all over this while you're getting wasted by yourself."

"Why oh why, must you be so crude?" Seriously. Who speaks like that? That redhead seems familiar. Must have made out with her at some point. Who is she chatting up now? She finally spotted the bartender and waved her hand to get her attention.

"It's part of my charm."

"That is a misconception," the brunette replied absent-mindedly. How dare you, midget?!

"You are a misconception!" That sounded way better in my head. Oh well. Santana grabbed her bottle of beer and took a sip. Heaven in a bottle. Oh yeah. Come to mama.

"Nice comeback."

"I'm tired. How can you still talk anyway? How many drinks have you had? Five? Six?" Santana tried to snap the brunette out of the trance she seemed to be in. Who the fuck is that blonde with the superb ass? How have I never noticed her?

"Lost count. And I have spent many years to perfect my verbal skills, Santana. A good performer – no, an excellent performer should always be eloquent, no matter what." Rachel did not even seem to be aware of the fact that she was speaking. But speaking, she was. Santana tried to suppress a yawn.

"Ay dios mio! Stop. You're giving me a premature hangover. Have you seen blondie?" Wait a second. No. Can't be. Or can it? Quinn does have a marvelous ass.

"She's over there talking to that woman. Not that I care." Oh wow. Interesting. That's one theory confirmed then.

"Jealous much?" Santana asked. Her tone was free of any malice. She was actually curious about the current emotional state of the little diva.

"Why would I be? She doesn't want to be here anyway." Rachel replied and then looked at Santana as if she just realized something. What if she does want to be here?

"Are we still talking about tubbers? 'Cause it seems like she's having a mighty good time." Santana was taken aback at the brunette's sudden mood change. Rachel seemed almost heartbroken. Santana wondered what she was thinking when she saw the tiny diva shaking her head to herself.

Rachel, on the other hand, was at the brink of a nervous breakdown. The last couple of days had been an emotional rollercoaster for the brunette. And she was really not used to this much alcohol. Her thoughts were all in a mess, wreaking havoc in her mind. No, no she can't. Well, she technically can. But she shouldn't. But why? This is a gay club and Quinn is gay and she is currently talking to a quite attractive young woman who seems to be interested in her, I mean who wouldn't be, and I should be happy for her. Yes. And they might just be talking about something else. Maybe the girl is upset about something and Quinn is being helpful.

"She's just being nice." Rachel finally answered with a faraway look in her eyes. I have no right to be upset at this. Quinn is trying to step out of her shell. This is a good thing. This is a very good th-…

"Because Quinn is such a ray of sunshine to be around. Keep telling yourself that." Rachel turned around to face Santana fully with an angry look on her face.

"Why did you do it?" Santana glared at the tiny diva when Rachel dabbed her finger at her chest quite forcefully.

"Wha-" What the hell?! Santana stepped back, causing Rachel to lose her balance for a moment, realizing just how drunk she really was.

"Why did you bring us here?" Oh. That. So that blondie and you could finally get over yourselves and do it? Better not say that though. Midget has stabby fingers.

"Jeez, I thought we could all let it loose and have some fun, you know. There aren't any guys disturbing us here, the ladies are much more decent when you reject them." Not that I would, ever.

"You shouldn't have." Rachel's tone was accusing, but defeated at the same time. Her anger seemed to be replaced by some kind of sadness now.

"And why is that, hobbit?" Santana asked, almost kindly.

"It makes Quinn very uncomfortable."

"She'll get over it. She's not that uptight, you know. I mean for her upbringing, she's actually pretty open-minded when it comes to the gays. That's one thing I've always wondered about…" Wait a minute. "Berry, do you know something that I don't?" Rachel looked like a deer caught in the headlights. GOTCHA.

"No, Santana," replied the brunette with determination in her voice.

"TALK. NOW." I knew it! I fucking knew it! All hail Auntie Snix and her mighty gaydar. She stepped towards Rachel, trying to physically intimidate her. To her surprise, Rachel placed her palm on her shoulder and pushed her back.

"NO." Santana decided to change her strategy and try verbal intimidation.

"Berry. Don't make me kick your ass. Tell me what you know." Rachel did not budge. This used to work so well. I must be really getting old.

"I can't." Rachel's reply was quiet. She wanted Santana to stop pursuing this, but she couldn't see a way out of the conversation other than to just kiss the Latina, which… yeah, not happening. EVER.

"I'll talk to tubbers myself then." Wait, what? NO. She'll think I told Santana and I'll lose her.

"DON'T!" Rachel shouted, and then covered her mouth with her hand, realizing that she was making a scene. A couple of people turned around to see what was going on. Rachel smiled a nervous smile to them to indicate it was okay, that she wasn't being harassed or anything. Santana rolled her eyes and tried to calm herself down.

"Why?"

"Let her come to you on her terms."

"So I was right." This time it was Rachel who felt irritated by this conversation. Santana seemed to stuck on being right that she didn't even seem to care about the feelings of her best friend.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Rachel replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Keep telling yourself that." Santana finished her beer and turned away from Rachel. Just as she was about to step away from the conversation, she felt Rachel grab her wrist.

"Santana."

"Berry." She faced Rachel, who still had her wrist in her grasp. They exchanged a glare, and then Santana saw something else in the other brunette's eyes. Something close to pleading.

"I don't want to lose her trust as a friend. She needs us." For a moment, Santana didn't know what to say to that. She then smiled to herself and shook her wrist free.

"I think I finally got what blondie sees in you, Berry." And with that, she started moving away. Rachel just stood there, her mouth slightly agape.

"What?" Oh dear lord. I'm dealing with idiots here. Santana turned around for a moment, still holding her smile and replied:

"Nothing. Go and save tubbers before she explodes from all the repression midget. I'll keep my mouth shut." And then she sauntered away.

"But…" WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!

Quinn smiled at the redhead who was talking about a band that she didn't even like. What am I doing? I'm not even enjoying this conversation? She wondered where Rachel had disappeared to and wished she was drunker than she currently was. This flirting thing is exhausting. It shouldn't be this hard to talk with girls. She wondered if Santana saw her talking to the redhead and if she had, what she was thinking.

"So there I was, at the front row…" It wouldn't really be the end of the world if Santana knew. I mean, yeah, she would probably tease me about it a lot in the beginning, but she has been through it all. I doubt she'll remember anything about tonight though. She was drinking pretty heavily the last I saw her. So was Rachel though. I hope she doesn't get sick later on. She smiled again and nodded, urging the redhead to go on, and the girl obliged. I need a way out of this conversation, without being too rude.

Quinn tried to come up with a plausible excuse to walk away and find the brunette. Then she realized the redhead was staring at her. Why did she stop talking? Her eyebrow shot up, without her even meaning to.

"I said you're really cute." Quinn felt the blood rush to her face. She stared at her hands, trying to come up with something to say.

"Thanks." The redhead seemed a bit disappointed at her response. But she also seemed determined.

"You wanna leave?" Asdfghjkllkjhgf. Is she suggesting what I think she is suggesting? "I live real close to this place, and my roommate is out tonight. We could spend some time." This is so NOT the moment. Help! Where is Satan when you need somebody to rudely interrupt a conversation?

"She's actually my ride tonight." Wait, what? Quinn looked at Rachel who seemed to have heard the cries of help the blonde was screaming inside her head. Does that make her my knight in a shining armor? Mmm. More like princess in an armor. But then she wouldn't need an armor, really. Do people wear anything inside an armor? Wait, no. Stop. She's right there next to you and she's saving your ass from a very awkward situation. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Rachel Berry." The brunette extended her hand to the redhead to shake, which was ignored. Now that was even more awkward. Rude.

"Fiona." The brunette did not seem to be deterred by the dismissal in the redhead's voice.

"It's very nice to meet you, Fiona. Like I was saying, Quinn here is my ride back home tonight, so I apologize if that causes you any inconvenience. But I'm sure if you gave her your number, you could arrange something else some other time." Quinn looked at Rachel in a daze. Fiona punched her number in Rachel's phone and then left with a wink.

"Um Rachel…" This is way too weird. "Did you just get a girl's number on my behalf?" The brunette just shrugged.

"You seemed a bit panicked when I got here. But you also seemed very interested in her so I wanted to make sure you have a way to contact her if you wanted to." Do you?

"Oh. Thanks… I guess. But I won't be needing that." Rachel's face lit up with a smile. "I wasn't really interested; I just couldn't find a polite way to make my exit. This flirting this is way too complicated for me. I have no idea what I'm doing. And I kind of freaked out." Stop rambling and get to the point. "So yeah… Thanks for saving me."

"Anytime you need." Rachel then surprised the blonde by linking their arms. "Can we dance?"

"Here?" Help. I can't dance with her. I might just die and have a heart attack if we came into close contact. But what a way to go…

"We're at a dance club, Quinn." Rachel seemed to be very amused at the way the blonde was blushing. "It's okay. We've danced together in Glee before." She's right. I can do this. I want to do this. Deep breaths. Quinn nodded curtly and let the brunette drag her out to the dance floor.

Some time later, Santana spotted the couple slow dancing in the middle of the dance floor. Both girls were visibly tipsy, hanging onto each other to balance themselves but smiling like maniacs. She chuckled to herself as she downed another tequila shot. Mission accomplished.

So. This was once again so much fun to write. Hope you guys had fun reading as well. All thoughts are appreciated!