28. Skinny Love

Quinn stood at the bathroom sink, combing her hair roughly with her fingers. A knock at the door disturbed her train of thought.

'Quinn open the door, I need a leak!' A voice called through the white wooden door. Santana, charming as always.

The blonde opened the door with a smile. 'A pleasure as always Miss Lopez…'

Santana shoved past, dashing to the bathroom. 'Oh don't call me that, my clients call me that.' She lifted the lid of the toilet seat and sat down.

'San! Don't you ever shut the door…?' The blonde averted her eyes, turning her attention to the television screen.

'Of course I do! When I go number two…' her voice echoed around the white tiled bathroom walls.

Quinn chuckled with a scoff. 'Of course you do…'

'I may not be the most lady-like, but I do have some class Q.'

Quinn smiled, keeping her thoughts to herself. She reached for the mini bar. 'You want a drink?'

Santana appeared back into the room after the noise of flushing and running water. She towelled her hands. She raised an eyebrow. 'After last time?'

They hadn't talked about what happened at Jimmys. They rarely talked about much that involved too much emotion. But still Quinn had to smile.

'It doesn't have to be alcohol…'

Santana set her hand on her hip. 'Q, it's us. Of course there has to be alcohol involved.'

Quinn laughed; she knew the brunette was right. She tossed a tiny bottle of Malibu at her best friend. She slid a glass tumbler and a small glass bottle of Coke across the coffee table towards her.

Santana smiled. 'That's more like it.'

They each poured their drinks and sat side by side on the comfortable white couch.

'So you're really leaving, huh?'

Quinn nodded. 'Yeah, I'm needed in New York. The girl who's playing Alice got sick, so they need me to fill in. Besides, I can't afford to live in this hotel forever.'

'What about the incessant babbler?'

Santana didn't even have to say her name and it still made Quinn's spine stiffen at the thought of her.

'What about her? There's nothing happening with us, she made that pretty clear.'

'She sat by your bedside in the hospital until you woke up.'

'Who told you that?'

'She did. She called me to tell me what had happened.'

'Well nothing is happening with us. I can't stick around forever on a slim possibility. I have a life to get on with.'

Santana raised her eyebrows in surprise. 'You've certainly changed your tune…what about 'all guns blazing Quinn'?'

She shrugged. 'I guess reality caught up with me. Getting hit by a car will do that to you.'

The phone in the corner of Quinn's hotel room began to ring loudly. They just let it go to voicemail. A familiar voice filled the room from the speakerphone.

'Hi Quinn…it's been a while since we talked…' Rachel's voice sounded oddly pitched and shaky. Santana looked from the phone to Quinn.

'Is she…drunk…?'

Rachel's voice kept rambling in the corner.

'…Quinn pick up the phone…talk to meee!'

Quinn nodded to Santana. 'She keeps leaving me drunk messages.'

'How long has this been going on?'

Quinn tallied up the number in her head quickly. 'Every other night for about two weeks now.'

'Are you kidding…?'

'Puck keeps checking on her. She's safe.'

The phone rang again. This time they both knew who it was.

'You know what Quinn Fabray?' she hiccupped. 'I hate you! You're a selfish asshole! The least you could do is call me back but no! I haven't heard from you in weeks! Weeks Quinn! Fine. Screw you Fabray!' The voicemail beeped, cutting the message off.

'You haven't spoken to her in weeks…?'

'My therapist thinks it would be better if I don't. She thinks I should just think for myself for a while, at least until I get my head straight.'

Santana nodded in understanding. 'Of course. That doesn't make you selfish Quinn…no matter what she says.'

The blonde nodded with a trace of a smile. 'She has no filter when she's drunk. I'm used to it by now.'

'Have you told Puck what she's been saying to you?'

She shook her head. 'I'm sure he's been getting the live version. Probably a special message or two for him too.'

Santana smiled. 'Somehow I can imagine that…'

The phone rang a third time. The brunette huffed.

'Are you kidding me Berry?'

The voicemail clicked on. 'Quiiiinn…I didn't mean it…I don't hate you…y'know that don't you? Pick up the phone so I know that you know…'

Quinn rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. She'd gotten used to the drunken ramblings invading her room. She wondered whether they'd follow her once she moved back to New York. Rachel did have her cellphone number after all…

'You need to call Puck and get him to try to talk some sense into that large head of hers.'

'It won't work. You know what she's like once she gets an idea into her head.'

Santana grimaced. 'Yeah, unfortunately I do.' She grumbled.

Rachel had been the one to set Brittany and Santana up on a blind date. Both Santana and Quinn knew as soon as the little starlet began conjuring up the idea, there was no going back. For Santana the whole thing was a gift and a curse.

'How are you and Brittany anyway?'

A tell-tale smile began creeping over Santana's mouth. 'We fight and she gets frustrated with me but…I think we're gonna be okay, Britts and I.'

A smile played on Quinn's lips too. Finally she got to see her best friend care for someone, the way she cared for Rachel. At least it was all working out for one of them, she figured.

'I'm happy to hear that San. You deserve the best of each other.'

Santana smiled for a moment then looked at her watch. 'Actually, I'd better get going. I said I'd cook for B tonight, she's teaching classes all day today and she gets super tired.'

Quinn raised that infamous brow. 'Santana Lopez! You mean you're actually housebroken now…?'

Santana rose from the couch and straightened out her slightly crumpled shirt. Quinn was glad to see Santana still had that twinkle in her eye after all those years.

'Me? Never…' Santana winked. Quinn laughed in response and walked her best friend over to the door.

'You call me if you need any help packing?'

Quinn nodded with a grateful smile. 'Yeah I'll let you know.'

They shared a parting hug, and Quinn was left alone with nothing but empty boxes and piles of clothes.

Once Santana was down the hallway and certifiably far enough away from Quinn's door, she dialled the waiting number on her cellphone.

'Yeah Puck? It's me. Look I'mma need your help with something. Just keep tomorrow free okay…?'