SANTANA

Quinn's look of utter shock at finding out how long I've been in love with her actually surprises me. I have been convinced that I must not have hidden it very well, and that her kiss on my birthday was some kind of test to see what I'd do. I know it's a somewhat ridiculous leap to have made, but she wouldn't tell me what happened and I filled in the blanks with my worst case scenario. God, I wish I had known on that night what she just told me. So many of the things I've said and done in the past few months have been a result of my very wrong assumptions.

She still hasn't said anything, but her slack jaw is slowly transforming into a grin. She shakes her head slowly.

"You're a good actress," she finally says.

I actually bark out a laugh at that, because it's really ridiculous.

"No Quinn, you just aren't very perceptive," I retort.

"How do you figure?" Quinn demands, her brow slightly furrowed.

"Let's just say Brittany could tell I was in love you from the second time she hung out with us alone."

"What?! How?" Her eyes are halfway into her hairline and her eyes are wide with disbelief.

"That's actually remarkably similar to my reaction," I say with a laugh. "Well, according to Brittany, the second time we hung out together I was relaxed enough to be my normal self with you…which, evidently, basically meant that I was always finding reasons to touch you in little ways, and my eyes were always on you, especially when you weren't looking. She said she could actually feel me wanting you."

"How could I not notice that? And how come Brittany didn't see that I loved you, too?"

"She did see that you loved me. In fact that's probably the only thing we really ever argue about," I take in Quinn's questioning look and continue explaining, "Britt says the love was always there, but that once we kissed it changed into a different kind of love. The "in love" kind of love."

"I can't believe Brittany could see all of that," she looks surprised and impressed. "But what's the argument? You must have known that I loved you, San. Please tell me you knew that."

"I knew you loved me as a friend, but I didn't agree with Brittany that you could feel for me like I felt for you. I was pretty convinced that you figured out my feelings and kissed me to test it out. It was an admittedly weak theory. I just couldn't let myself believe that you'd ever return my feelings, I guess."

"I wish I was as perceptive as Britt apparently is," Quinn says with a sigh.

"She's really smart about people. It's like she can feel what other people are feeling. I don't know if I would have survived the last few months without her."

I see Quinn's face contort into a pained sadness when I mention the difficulty I've had with our separation. We study each other for a moment.

"Santana, I need to apologize for shutting you out and pretty much ruining our friendship for the past 4 months, and I need for you to not brush my apology off with a joke. I thought, wrongly, that I was protecting myself, and you, from something that I shouldn't be feeling. I wish that I had just talked to you then, and it kills me that I put you through all of that pain. I am truly sorry for everything."

I want so badly to make the joke here and let this serious moment go, but I know she means this.

"I'm sorry too, Quinn. I didn't know how to handle things, and I swung the pendulum so far in the opposite direction of where we had been to protect myself…but I never stopped loving you. I tried to take care of you without you knowing, but it doesn't make up for all of the terrible things I did to you."

I'm looking as deeply into her eyes as possible, and I know she can feel the sincerity in my voice. She gives me a little smile.

"It's crazy, I feel like nothing has changed even though so much has. I look at you…you're still my world San. You're my best friend, I need you," she grabs my hand and squeezes it.

"I'm not going anywhere, Quinn."

"Can I kiss you now?" She looks adorably eager.

"Yes-" Quinn jumps forward and I hold up my hand to stop her so I can finish my thought. "But this conversation is not necessarily over, ok?"

"Okay," she breathes out and then pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.

I'm done for at that, and move my hand from the "stop" position to her neck, my thumb skimming beneath her earlobe. She leans in and kisses me softly once, before pulling back ever so slightly, her lips still grazing mine.

"Finally," she whispers against my mouth, and before I can answer our lips are connected fiercely.

Finally is right.

Making out with Quinn is better than anything I could ever imagine. Her kisses mirror her personality in adorable and surprising ways. With every kiss I notice something new that I file away somewhere in my brain as if I'll be tested later. Like her, Q's kisses are neat and controlled, as if she's always looking one step ahead, but my favorite moments are when she loses her cool and I get some of that famous Fabray bite…literally. In typical Quinn fashion, she wants to be perfect but doesn't realize that she gets closest when she stops trying. The mere thought of experiencing Quinn completely out of control has my skin tingling and heat flooding between my legs.

For all of my wanting her, I'm pleasantly surprised at my own restraint. I thank my lucky stars that she hasn't tried to escalate our kisses to the next level, because I'm not sure my tenuous self-control would hold up. I'm cuddling the most beautiful girl in the world and she's kissing me. Every single part of me wants her more than I've ever wanted anything.

We've migrated from our relatively safe seated positions to lying on my bed. So far we've stayed roughly parallel on our sides, but I can feel her fist tightening its grip on my sweatshirt and I know she wants to pull me down on top of her. I don't want to stop, but I know that having Quinn under me will completely ruin any chance we have of taking this slow. When I've reached the limits of my control I slowly lean back and watch her eyes slowly open, stealing the breath from my lungs as they do.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of kissing you," she says lightly.

I smile at her, and then lean in suddenly, placing fast pecks all over her face, making exaggerated kissing noises with each one. She squeals adorably, her peals of laughter spurring me on even more. When she brings her hands up to gently push my face away, I give her a ridiculous pouty face.

"I thought you'd never get tired of my kisses!" I tease her.

She looks me straight in the eye and hooks the neck of my sweatshirt with one finger, pulling us closer and connecting our lips yet again. It's a quick kiss, but she manages to peek her tongue out for a fraction of a second, letting the tip of it just barely graze the underneath of my top lip. I feel the impact of that simple action directly between my legs, causing my eyes to snap shut and a soft gasp to escape my lips.

Quinn's smirk is all I can see when my eyes open again, and it's sexy as hell. All of my desire attacks my senses at once, and a silent battle rages inside my body. My jaw is locked, and my nostrils flare as I suck in a short, shallow breath. The hand that was resting on her hip is now gripping tightly, and the rest of my muscles feel frozen. It's over in hardly a second, my rational mind overcoming pure instinct in an admittedly rare victory. I can see in Quinn's eyes that she's all too aware of what just happened within me, and she looks so smug that I give her a scowl and move deliberately to put space between us. It's her turn to sulk, and I grin at her petulance. Her eyes widen as she realizes that I've played her.

"You're mean!" she exclaims, but I can hear the smile in her voice.

"You're so much meaner!" I tell her in pretend exasperation.

She reaches out and gives my shoulder a playful little push, and I stick my tongue out at her. We both laugh, and I actually fully sit up, pulling my legs to the side.

"What time is it?" she asks me.

"Ummm…crap. It's 1 o'clock," I say with a frown.

"You're gonna go to Cheerios, aren't you?" she tries to keep the disappointment out of her voice when she asks.

"I have to, Q. You know Sue doesn't care if we're sick, or if we're technically not supposed to go to practice if we missed class. She'll toss me off the team."

"I know, it just sucks. I miss it. Plus, I really want to keep you to myself," she says simply.

I smile, so glad to be privy to her thoughts and feelings once again.

"Trust me, I want to stay here with you. But I need to be a Cheerio to be able to protect you, to protect us both. It's the only way I can influence the morons who are just looking for a chance to tear you and me down."

She scoffs a little.

"Whole lot of good it did me, I got slushied while I was wearing my uniform," the bitterness in her voice is clear, but it turns timid when she asks, "Do you think people are really still coming after me?"

I mull this over, because I'm really not sure.

"I don't know. People are always going to be jealous of you, pregnant or not you're still the prettiest girl any of those losers will ever meet. And whatever this is," I gesture between us, "would probably be perfect ammunition for them. I mean, assuming it continues beyond today." I flash her an uncertain smile before adding, "And you got slushied more because Finn is such a bumbling doofus than because of you. For the apparently anointed "leader" he supposedly is, he has an awfully difficult time rallying his teammates to his defense, or to do anything he wants, really." I throw up sarcastic air quotes when I say "leader."

I don't understand the hero worship that gets heaped on Finn. He's usually a nice enough guy, I guess, but he's still a teenaged mutant awkward gigantor. Plus, he has the misfortune of being a complete idiot on pretty much every imaginable level. Basic cognitive understanding is legitimately beyond his meager academic capabilities, and I can accept that, but what really kills me is his inexplicable failure to be faithful to his extraordinarily hot girlfriend. Granted, Quinn cheated on him with Puck, and therefore can't really be counted as a victim, but Finn put his sloppy lips all up on Berry's loud, loud mouth. Berry! Of all the people on earth, Hudson goes and kisses Rachel fucking Berry. Worse, he did it on the stage of the auditorium, which is basically the definition of putting his douchery on display. Even though I was still trying to hate Quinn, seeing that had infuriated me. That idiot had everything I've ever wanted and he was so careless with it.

Had? Has? Oh shit…Quinn is still dating the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man-child.

"Do you want this to carry on after today?" Quinn's timid question brings me back from my thoughts.

Fuck. I'm legitimately taken aback by the question, for some reason.

"I-I don't know," I stammer. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around Finn and Quinn still being a thing and how the hell I've managed to completely forget that fact.

"Oh." Quinn looks downright miserable.

"That came out wrong…I mean…of course I do, it's just that…Quinn, look at me," watery hazel eyes meet mine, "it's just that we need to figure out what exactly that means. You have a boyfriend, Q. And he thinks you're carrying his child. You need to decide what you want to do with all of that. And, on top of that, this is fucking Ohio. We need to really think about what we want and what we're willing to sacrifice. We can't just dive into this."

Quinn is nodding a little too emphatically and I instinctively recognize that she is trying to shut down her emotions. I just dropped a whole lot of reality on our situation, and I wonder how Quinn looks so shocked to hear them. She must've worried about these things before now. I reach out and slide my hand along her jaw, my thumb brushing her cheek.

"Hey, stop. Quinn," I dip my head down to make eye contact with her, but she looks pointedly away. "Please don't shut me out. Please Quinn, just talk to me."

She closes her eyes at my pleading tone, and I know she's remembering my birthday because I recognize the agonized begging nature of my voice from that night, too. A hot knife of pain stabs through my heart and I'm terrified and furious all at once.

"No, you don't get to fucking do this to me again," I say shakily, "You can't. I deserve better than this, Quinn, you OWE ME more than this!"

Silent tears are falling from the beautiful eyes that still refuse to meet mine, and I'm at a complete loss. I want to wrap her in my arms until she finds whatever words she needs to speak to me again, I want to kiss away all of her sadness, and I want to literally slap the shit out of her, all at the same time. I am trembling with the effort of controlling my body.

I stand up and walk to my closet, grabbing a clean Cheerios uniform. I'm going to be late for practice if I don't get my shit together, and I'm certain that if I stay and watch her tears fall any longer I will absolutely flip the fuck out. I hate myself for being encouraged that she hasn't actually left, despite the mute void she's become.

When I'm dressed I walk back to the bed and sit across from her, taking in her every feature. Her eyes are cast downward, her brow furrowed. I'm legitimately petrified that this will be the last time I'll be able to look at her face with love in my heart.

"I know you're scared, I am too," I tell her softly, "but I want to face that fear with you by my side, whether you're there as my best friend or something more."

I pause and take a deep breath. Quinn finally picks her head up and regards me tentatively.

"I love you. I love you so much it hurts. But if you do this, Quinn, if you shut me out again, I will never forgive you. So I am begging you, for the last time, to fight for us and just talk to me.

I'm going to practice now; I'll be back in two hours or so. You need to decide by then what you're going to do. If you're going to quit on me again, please leave before I get home. I want you here more than anything in this world, but I won't let you crush me again. I can't do it again."

I lean forward and press my lips to her forehead, then dip my head down to place a swift kiss on her lips before I jump up and grab my Cheerios bag as I open the door. I look back at her for just a second.

"Love you, Lucy Q."

I step into the hall and close the door behind me, instantly feeling hot tears running down my face as I fight the sobs that rack my body. I take a second to protectively fold my arms across my chest as if I can actually hold myself together. I realize that my labored breathing has turned into outright whimpers, and it spurs me down the stairs and to my car. I know I should have called Brittany to pick me up, since I'm not allowed to get my permit for another two months, but I need to get out of here and I don't have time to wait. Hopefully I beat my parents home, but right now I don't even care.

I back out of my driveway and glance up at my bedroom window. Quinn is staring down at me sadly. It looks like she's talking to herself or something. I let myself stare back for a second before I drive off.

QUINN

I'm standing at the window, watching Santana leave. I heard her soft sobs after she closed the door to her room, it was devastating. I felt her pain as if it was my own, and looking at her now brings a fresh wave of sadness over me. She pauses after she's backed out and I can tell she sees me. Without thinking, my hands fly up to grip the window frame and I hear myself shouting desperately.

"I love you! I love you, Santana!"

She pulls away slowly, and my head drops at the same time. I'm so disgusted with myself, but there's nothing I can do about it now except wait. Wait, and keep myself from getting crazy again. I focus for a second on the fact that I already miss Santana with everything in me. Losing her again would destroy me. You wouldn't be losing her; you'd be throwing her away, you IDIOT.

I think about what she said to me, about why I got so worked up. I have a chance, this time, to work through this before I see her. I am desperate to figure my craziness out so I don't lose the only person in my life that makes me happy.

What if practice ends early or is cancelled and she comes back before I'm ready?

Panic rises in my chest.

Stop. Just stop worrying about things you can't control. She's right, you owe her this. You have to stay calm or else you are going to lose everything. Focus.

The last thing Santana said before she left was that she loved me. I know she's afraid I'm going to hurt her again, but she still stopped to tell me she loves me. Actually, now that I think about it, she said even more than that.

"Love you, Lucy Q."

I feel a slow smile spread across my face until I'm wearing an ear to ear grin. I know Santana better than I know myself, and I know she didn't choose those words on accident. I've been given many a nickname by my clever best friend, but Lucy Q has always been my favorite. Santana is still the lone person that knows about Lucy, so it's a name she only uses when it's just us. It's also the nickname she uses when I'm feeling the most down about myself, as a reminder that she knows all of me and loves me anyway.

That beautiful, beautiful girl.

In an instant, I know exactly what I have to do. I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner, it should've been so obvious. I sit at Santana's desk and look for paper and a pen. I smile when I notice she still has my favorite kind of pen in her desk, and again when I recognize the stationary I bought us both last year. I only sit still for a moment, considering, before the words begin to flow, and I know I've found my voice.