SANTANA

Summer, 2008

The instant I saw Quinn Fabray I felt an actual, physical reaction in my body. We were at Cheerios camp the summer before freshman year, and I was determined to make the squad to ensure a high school career of ease and popularity. We had two different middle schools that fed into McKinley High, so there were a bunch of freshmen I'd never seen before, but Quinn was clearly different. She was prettier, more athletic, and had an instant atmosphere of control about her. From day one, it just seemed like she could do no wrong and by day five it seemed as if she was actually in charge. The seniors were kissing her ass. It was pathetic, really. Those girls had survived three years of Sue Sylvester (who convinced me in about 10 minutes that she was completely batshit insane), just to bow down to a 14 year old freshman no one seemed to know.

I could tell right away that she was the horse I should hitch my wagon to if I wanted to get onto this team, run this school, and get the hell out of Lima. The only problem was that I couldn't control the way my body reacted to being around her, and it freaked me out. I had found certain celebrity women attractive in the past; I had even wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl on occasion. But never in my life had a living, breathing girl that I saw on a daily basis made me feel so completely flustered. I simultaneously wanted to be her best friend and never see her again. It was maddening, but when I weighed out my options it became pretty clear that there was really only one option I could choose. Being her friend meant being at the top. Being her friend meant getting to look at her every day. Being her friend meant I could try to figure out why I was so attracted to her, so that I could eventually figure out how to stop being attracted to her…or any other girl for that matter. And to be honest, I just found her so damn interesting I would've probably chosen to be her friend just for that reason alone.

So I ingratiated myself to her without being pathetic about it. We were stretching partners, I'd bring her a Gatorade occasionally if I brought one for myself, I leant her hair ties and shared my gum. Since everyone else was inexplicably afraid of her, I was basically the only one who spoke to her in the beginning. Before long we were inseparable during practice, and made plans for the weekends. We did all of the girlie shit together, mani/pedis, bikini shopping, rom com marathons. It was fun, it was easy. Quinn was much more interesting away from cheerleading practice, and a lot more open. There was a lot going on inside that pretty little head of hers, and I felt privileged to be privy to her innermost thoughts and feelings. I knew, fairly early on, that I was pretty much in love with her. I also knew that she would never think of me that way, which actually made it easier to deal with. I wanted her to be happy, and I would do whatever I could to make sure she was, even if that meant I could never tell her how I felt. So when she leaned against me during a movie, or held my hand while we listened to music on my bed, or planted a big fat kiss on my cheek when she brought my birthday present over, I would always smile and be grateful. She was my best friend, regardless of my deeper feelings.

Quinn was named co-captain of the Cheerios just before the start of the school year, alongside some senior named Nikki Lewis. A lot of people were pretty unhappy about it, including, to my surprise, Quinn. When she didn't meet me after practice I went back to the locker room to find her silently crying in a shower stall. I grabbed her and all of her stuff and walked her back to my house before asking her what was wrong, and I'll never forget what she told me.

"I know it seems stupid to be upset because this is supposed to be a good thing, but don't you realize what this means? I'm always going to have to be perfect, because someone is always going to be watching me. There will always be someone trying to take me down a peg or two. I'm never going to get to just be."

If I had realized then just how right she was, I probably wouldn't have told her that she didn't have to worry, because it wouldn't be a big deal, and even if it was, we were already flawless so it wouldn't matter. She'd given me a watery smile, and invited me to her house the next day so that she could show me something. I'd readily agreed, kind of anxious to actually hang out at Quinn's house for once. I'd been there maybe twice, and we'd mostly stuck by the pool, but I'd gotten the impression that her parents kind of sucked. Quinn seemed to want to keep me away from them, since we only hung out there when they weren't home.

It took me all of five minutes upon arriving at her house the following day to realize just how right I was. As soon as I was introduced, Mr. Fabray asked me where I was from with this fucking sly tone. A quick glance at Quinn told me that she was furious, but also oddly timid. Her entire demeanor was completely foreign from the girl I'd gotten to know, but she couldn't suppress a slight smirk when I launched into a polite, but pointed, explanation about how I had come to be born in Ohio, after I detailed exactly how both sides of my family had legally immigrated to the U.S. and named some of the military veterans in my family and what wars they had fought in. Mr. Fabray had been all smooth about parlaying his rude question into a comment about how great of a country we live in and how families like mine are what make America so special. I instantly hated him and his patronizing bullshit.

Quinn seized her first opportunity to pull me away from her asshole dad and up to her room. I was instantly put off when I walked in. Even this tiny space that was, theoretically, hers, looked like it had been decorated with someone else's stuff. Determined to find the girl I knew somewhere in this spotless room, I wandered around silently. I felt some relief when I reached a small book case, and again when I found an alphabetized collection of CDs. I picked up a framed picture of the two of us and smiled widely, turning to ask why I didn't get a copy.

"Oh…I, uh…I have one for you actually. I was going to give it to you on the first day of school, but…"

Quinn sheepishly handed me the picture with a shrug, already in an identical frame. I took it and gave her a hug.

"Sorry I ruined the surprise. This is awesome, thank you."

"Don't be an idiot," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching upward, "But you're welcome." Sometimes Quinn was so formal. I used to think it was an oddity of hers, until I actually came to her house.

"So what did you want to show me?" I'd immediately regretted asking when I saw how uncomfortable Quinn became, but I didn't know what to say to make it better.

She looked at me for a long moment before leading me over to sit on her bed and going to dig around in her dresser for something. When she found what she was looking for, she'd shuffled back to where I was sitting and sat down without saying a word.

"You know how I moved here from Belleville?" I nodded. "Well, I wasn't like I am now, back then."

"O…kay? Middle school sucks, no one-"

"No Santana, I was…well…" Quinn handed me the picture in her hand, and I stared down at it in confusion.

Some chubby girl with glasses was half smiling, half grimacing in a school photo. I didn't really get it, and then all at once I did. This girl was Quinn. My eyes flew up to the perfect face I was used to and saw my beautiful Quinn near tears. I looked back at the younger Quinn and tried to spot my best friend. In this second glance I'd found her, the prettiest hazel/green eyes I'd ever seen looking sad behind thick framed glasses. When I looked back at my real life Quinn, my mouth opened to speak but she cut me off.

"This is why I don't want to be the center of attention just yet. What if someone does some digging and finds this? I don't look like that girl anymore, but I'm still afraid like her. I worked really hard to lose all the weight, I got contacts and a nose job, hell, I changed my name just to leave this in my past. That girl was alone, she didn't have friends…even her own damn family basically ignored her. I can't go back to being her." Quinn had sounded almost angry at the girl in the picture. Her tone was cold, but it was clear she was terrified. She'd added in a much smaller voice, "Turns out I'm really not flawless like you."

My heart ached at her words. Her family ignored her. Her shitty father probably encouraged her to get a nose job. She was afraid. I'd thought hard before I answered, determined not to fuck this up.

"What is your name?" Quinn looked at me in shock.

"Um, Lucy. Quinn is my middle name. Why?"

"Because, Lucy Q. Fabray, I like to be in the habit of knowing my best friend's name. And to be honest, that seems like the most important thing to me from everything you just said. You aren't any less flawless because you went through so much to become who you are, you're better for it because you had to work for it. No one is going to find out, and even if they do, who cares? You're amazing, inside and out, and honestly I have no problem going all Lima Heights on anyone who disagrees. But if you're worried, I'll pretend like I knew you back then if it'll help. Lord knows we're close enough to have known each other for years anyway," I'd paused because I wasn't sure I should say what came to mind next, before I'd decided to be brave for her. "Besides Q, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, I'm pretty sure everyone will be too busy groveling at your feet to worry about what part of heaven you fell from."

My entirely true joke had gotten a solid laugh from Quinn that eased the tension considerably.

"I'm sorry I lied about my name." Leave it to her to apologize for the silliest things.

"Really? You're apologizing? Don't be an idiot."

Quinn's answering smile was basically all of the good things in my world. She had shared something personal, something she feared, and I loved her even more for it. I'd never been happier that I'd decided that being her friend was the only option.

Waking up next to Quinn isn't exactly something new for me, but this feels like something different altogether. Somehow during the night we've completely shifted positions, and I'm lying on my back with this gorgeous girl curled up into my side with her head on my shoulder. Her arms are tucked between us, hands curled beneath her chin. Her silky blonde hair is wild, and I carefully gather it away from her face so I can get a better look at her. The corners of my mouth twitch up immediately as I take in the sight before me. Quinn's full lips are parted slightly, and there is small line of drool trailing down onto my shirt. With her face relaxed she looks even younger than ever, the tension of her life erased from her features. While I'm watching, she closes her mouth briefly and smacks her lips together before returning to her former sleeping form, mouth slightly open. She's the most adorable human being alive, one of the very few I would ever permit to be this close to me while I slept, and probably the only one I'd let drool on me. I know she's starting to wake up, but this moment is so precious to me that I wish I could stop time and look at her like this forever.

I shift slightly and pull her closer to me, dipping my head to press a kiss to the top of her head. Her hair smells faintly of pomegranate, which contrasts nicely with the slight vanilla scent of her skin that I'm so used to. This is definitely different, but also achingly familiar.

Quinn turns her head slowly and momentarily presses her face into my shoulder before picking her head up in slight confusion. She pulls her right arm loose and runs the back of her hand across her mouth, but freezes when she sees me watching her. I watch a sheepish smile creep across her face.

"Sorry," she whispers.

"Don't be an idiot, drooly," I whisper back. "It's fine, lay back down."

She rolls her eyes at me and puts her head down carefully to avoid her own drool spot on my shoulder. Her loose arm now snakes across my waist and I feel her sigh deeply.

"I don't want to go to school today," she says wistfully.

"Wanna cut with me then?" I offer, knowing she'll say no. Quinn has always been the better behaved of the two of us.

"Sure. Do you think your mom will get mad at you though?"

"Wait, seriously? You're actually considering this?" I'm incredulous.

"Yeah, if you won't get in trouble. It's not like my parents are going to call Finn's mom to let her know I skipped school," she says with a humorless half-laugh.

My heart sinks at her words. I've hated her parents for pretty much as long as I've known them, but my indignation flashes through me anew as I consider what they've done to their daughter.

"What's wrong?" Quinn distracts me from the burning anger traveling through my body.

"Nothing…I'll, uh, I'll ask my mom. I'm sure it will be fine for me to stay home with you."

"Santana. You're lying. I can feel and hear your heart pounding. Something changed," she chastises.

My face flushes at having been caught and I huff in annoyance because I keep having to tell Quinn revealing truths.

"What you said about your parents. It makes me so fucking mad…you deserve so much better than that. They're just so goddamn holier than thou, and selfish, and really just fucking stupid." The words rush out of me before I can stop myself, and I know I've crossed a line dropping the G-D. "Sorry, I shouldn't have taken the Lord's name in vain," I mumble petulantly.

Quinn starts laughing quietly, her shoulders shaking gently.

"What?" I'm annoyed but her laugh brings a smile to my face.

She flashes me a brilliant grin, and brings her arm up from my waist to pinch my cheek gently.

"Don't be an idiot. You don't have to apologize to me, but if God strikes you down we'll know why. And I'm laughing because you're just…cute when you get all crazy fired up like that. I remember when you said as few swear words as I do, and now you're all super tough and hard," she giggles sweetly when I roll my eyes. "It's nice though, I like knowing that there is still someone who will lose their temper on my behalf."

Once again, we share a long moment of eye contact. It is broken with a sudden knock and my mom's voice as she slowly opens the door. Quinn and I shift apart marginally, but neither of us seems too concerned.

"Hey honey, are you guys going to school today? If you are, you need to get up and start getting ready."

"Actually, we were just talking about that mom. Would it be okay if Quinn and I stayed here today? I think we could both use a break." Not for the first or last time, I thank the high heavens for the awesomeness that is my mother.

"Of course. I'll call the school and tell them that you're both home sick. I expect you'll get whatever work you're going to miss and finish any assignments that are due," my mother gives us a pointed look until we both nod. "Okay then, have a good day. There's food in the fridge and I think there's a redbox movie downstairs if you get bored. Santana, you have my work number if anything comes up. Love you girls."

My mom flashes a quick smile before closing the door behind her, leaving Quinn looking kind of dumbstruck and me grinning.

"Did she say she'd call to say we're both home sick?" Quinn looks at me like she's witnessed something that defies logic. "And she said she loved us both, right?"

I study her for a second, it's hard to believe this girl could be so dense as to not realize how loved she is. She looks absolutely bewildered.

"Well, yeah, Quinn. My mom adores you."

"Really? Even after everything? The last few months…this…" She gestures to her stomach at the same time that she looks away from my face.

"I feel like it's kind of early for truth time, so the short answer is yes. Even after everything, my mother still loves you. Now, give me an honest answer. What are the chances we could go back to sleep for a bit? Practice has been bru-tal and if I don't have to go to school, I'd absolutely love to get another hour in." I'm trying not to look at her too hopefully.

"Are you kidding? I'm pregnant, I'm always exhausted. But can you do something for me?"

"Anything," I say without thinking.

Quinn's shy smile is unassuming and sweet.

"Spoon me?"

QUINN

Summer, 2008

"Besides Q, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, I'm pretty sure everyone will be too busy groveling at your feet to worry about what part of heaven you fell from."

I'd laughed hard at that. Santana always knew how to make me smile when I needed it most. But I'd felt guilty at the realization that I'd essentially lied to her from the moment I met her.

"I'm sorry I lied about my name."

"Really? You're apologizing? Don't be an idiot." Santana looked almost affronted that I'd felt the need to apologize, yet another reason to love this girl.

I saw an opportunity then, and knew I needed to strike while the iron was hot.

"Can I ask you a question, San?"

"Of course."

"Now that you know about Lucy, will you tell me your middle name?"

Santana gave me a little head shake and rolled her eyes. A few weeks prior, Mrs. Lopez had started yelling for Santana to come downstairs, and when she didn't answer, Mrs. L resorted to yelling her name again. Something in her tone turned Santana's face nearly white and she'd jumped up to cut her mother off. It'd taken me a moment to realize that she didn't want her mom to yell her full name, and ever since I'd been burning up with curiosity and needling her. Santana had said she'd tell if I told her mine, which shut me up pretty quick.

"Diabla," she said somewhat ruefully, her eyes on my face.

"Diabla? Doesn't that literally mean…devil?" I'd barely suppressed a laugh.

"That it does, smarty pants. But Santana is derived from the word "santo," which means holy. So literally, my parents named me Holy Devil." I had laughed heartily at that, while she'd continued explaining, "According to my mother, once I started kicking I never stopped. She was convinced I was trying to kick my way out, and she claims she didn't sleep a full night for 5 months straight, so she and my dad started calling me diablo bebe, or devil baby. Knowing my parents, they probably would have just named me Diabla outright, but obviously I was a gorgeous little infant, so they called me Santana instead. And you are now officially the only person I've ever voluntarily told my middle name, with the true story and all," she'd finished with a smile.

"I'm very honored indeed…but is there an untrue version of this story?"

Santana gave me wicked little smile and raised her eyebrow slightly.

"When people have inadvertently found out my middle name in the past, I claimed legend had it that when I came out of my mother, I told the nurse she was fat," Santana said casually, with a self-satisfied shrug of her shoulders.

I'd laughed so hard I'd snorted, which had caused Santana to laugh hysterically at me.

I knew on that day that I was going to love Santana forever. She was the first real friend I'd ever had, and she was the only person who made me feel genuine and actually real. She knew about Lucy and didn't even flinch; she told me things she didn't tell anyone else. It actually worried me, even then, that I loved her so much. I didn't want to be too overbearing or weird, but Santana was like the center of my universe. I may have been the one getting all of the attention, but she was the only person I could see.

When school started, we were pretty delighted to find that we were in a lot of the same classes, which meant we were usually doing homework together after Cheerios practice. In a given day we spent 75% of our waking hours together, but we never seemed to get tired of it or fall out of sync with each other. By the end of freshman year we were two of the most popular girls in school, we were National Champions with the Cheerios, and we'd only grown closer.

That closeness lasted for almost two months after the last day of school before it all went downhill.

I can feel the steady in-out of Santana's breathing behind me, it's comforting, along with the warmth of her body pressed against mine and her arm wrapped around me. I run my fingertips gently over her hand protectively covering my stomach and marvel at how quickly we've fallen back into being the best friends we used to be. I have missed her so much.

I don't want to move, but I've got to use the ladies' room, and I've got to do it soon. I slowly and carefully slide towards the edge of the bed. Santana only stirs slightly. When my feet hit the floor I turn and look at her as she pulls her arms to her chest and curls her body into an even tighter ball. I tiptoe to Santana's bathroom with a smile on my face.

When I walk back into the bedroom, Santana is still curled up, but her eyes are cracked open and she turns to look at me when I get closer. Wordlessly, she lifts up her left arm and gives me a little pout. I feel my face split into a grin as I climb back on the bed to appease grumpy morning Santana. She folds me into her arms effortlessly, straightening her legs so I can stretch out next to her, my head tucked under her chin. I can feel the soft skin of her neck against the side of my face, her shirt pulled down slightly from how she is laying. Her embrace is the most comforting thing I've ever known, and I find myself immediately snuggling even closer to her.

I hear Santana let out a breathy laugh at me, and I tilt my head up to look at her. The movement brings my lips closer to the exposed skin of her neck and before I even stop to consider, I press my lips softly to her throat. I feel Santana freeze beneath me, but that doesn't stop me from licking my lips and placing another kiss to the dip at the base of her neck. I hear a whoosh of air leaving Santana's body before I feel her shift and suddenly her lips are on mine. Her hand comes up to cup my face as she pulls back for a second, her eyes roving over my face questioningly.

"Quinn-" Santana breathes out, but I don't let her finish.

I connect our mouths again, this time running my tongue along the seam of her lips. She quickly opens her mouth and pulls my bottom lip in between hers. She leans against me and I roll onto my back, letting her lean over me. I'm expecting her weight to settle on top of me, but she continues the kiss with her arms bracing her above me. I break the kiss and look up at her.

"Why are you propped up like that?" I'm breathless from the kiss, but I desperately want to feel her against me.

"The baby…" she whispers.

This girl…I feel tears spring to my eyes at her sweetness.

"Hey, are you okay?" Santana's face is knitted in concern.

"Yeah," I say with a smile as I tuck her hair behind her ear. "And so is the baby, so please close the distance a bit."

Santana gives me a radiant smile and lowers herself so that she's half on my body, half off. She places a kiss to my forehead, followed by my temple, then my cheek, and then she's ghosting gentle kisses along my jaw. I can feel the adoration in her touch, and when she finally reaches my mouth I press my lips to hers with enthusiasm, my fingers weaving into her hair and pulling her against me. Our mouths open and move together in a slow, simple dance, as if we've been waiting for this moment all along. In some ways, we probably have. Santana is an extraordinary kisser, and I find myself easily moving from follower to leader and back again without a misstep. I feel surrounded by her and my love for her, and it's everything.

When she finally pulls away from the kiss and rests her forehead on mine, we're both breathless and smiling.

"I really missed you," she says shakily, and I laugh lightly. "Let's go eat some breakfast."

I pull back and give her a crazy look.

"You want to eat breakfast now? How can you even think about eating right now?" I'm incredulous, and aggravated. Here I feel like I'm experiencing this life changing event, and she wants her Lucky Charms.

Santana opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off.

"I'm not Brittany, you can't just kiss me then walk away like it didn't happen," I spit out. It's ironic, because I did exactly that to her this summer, and even as I'm saying it I realize that it's too harsh.

Before I can blink, Santana is scrambling off of me and then completely off the bed. She stands with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, clearly furious.

"Is that seriously what you think of me? First of all, don't you ever, and I mean ever, talk about Brittany like that. She's not dumb, and you have no idea what we have between us-"

"I didn't mean it like that," I try to interrupt, feeling guilty already.

"And secondly, I thought it might be a good idea for us to slow our roll a little bit and take a breather. Things are moving really fucking fast here and as amazing as it feels, which is really fucking amazing, by the way, I don't want to lose you again. So if I have to sacrifice what my body wants for five fucking minutes so we can talk over breakfast, then for once, I'm actually willing to do that."

There's an awkward silence as I stare down at my hands and Santana glares at me. I can actually feel her eyes on me, so I finally look up and make eye contact with her. She's got her bitch glare in full effect, but I can see plainly that more than anger, she feels hurt.

"I'm sorry, Santana. That was an awful thing for me to say. You're right, I don't know what is between you and Brittany, and I shouldn't have assumed anything. It's just that…there is so much here and so much going on that I'm scared. I'm really scared because I've never let myself be this open. You know me; I don't make a move unless I know how it'll turn out. And the one time I stepped away from that life plan, well…now I'm pregnant. So I'm just ridiculously defensive. And I'm sorry, again."

I slide over so I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at this stunningly attractive girl with as much earnestness as I can muster.

Santana steps over so that she's standing between my knees and brings her hands up to cup my face tenderly.

"Don't be an idiot, Fabray," I smile at our ongoing inside joke. "I'm scared too. And if you ever repeat that, I will deny it," she says, giving me a little smirk before leaning down to brush my lips with hers. Her voice drops an octave when she whispers, "For the record, breakfast isn't really what I want to be eating."

I feel my skin flush in combination with an immediate throbbing between my legs. I want her, but I know it's time to step back. I resort to using her line in response.

"Wanky."