Author's Note: I seem to be unable to write a chapter without Santana in it…

Count To Ten

Chapter 8

The next week…

"So, they almost kissed?"

Santana nodded and lazily leaned back against the wall, inspecting the orange ping pong ball she'd found in one of the classrooms earlier. Whoever had forgotten it there would just have to get another one. Finders keepers and all that.

"Like, full on the lips?"

The Latina shrugged, tossing the ball back and forth between her hands. It was a nice ball. Shiny and brand new. The perfect size for…

"You don't know?"

A sigh. "I said almost, Brit. There's no full-on involved if it's almost."

"But it wouldn't have been a kiss to the cheek, right? Or a friendly peck? It would have been a romantic kiss."

Santana shrugged again, tossing the ball higher up in the air before catching it and trying to balance it on her fingertips. This was way better than thinking about Quinn and Rachel. Toss, catch, toss, catch.

"Are you listening?" There was a pout on the blonde's face.

"Sure", the Latina said absently, throwing the ball almost up to the ceiling. She always listened to Brittany, but…if she threw the ball this high, would she have time for a little pirouette before catching it again?

"Would it have been like this?", Brittany asked, stopping her girlfriend from turning around and placing a sweet, long kiss upon the other girl's lips. The ball fell to the floor and rolled a few feet away.

"Probably", Santana agreed when the kiss ended. Picking up her new favorite toy, she checked it for any damages. "But Schuester interrupted and threw them out of the room. Then they just left in different directions and I haven't heard from Quinn all weekend, but from what I've seen today, they haven't talked about it."

Brittany frowned. "What have you seen today? I didn't see them near each other once."

"Exactly", Santana sighed. Toss, catch, toss, catch.

"It's going to be okay", Brittany said softly, running her hands up and down the Latina's arms reassuringly. "Don't worry. Everything's going to work out. They'll be happy."

"I don't…" Santana shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts. "I don't care. They can do whatever they want. What's it to me of they get together? The only happiness I care about is yours. Well, and mine. But that's one and the same."

"You don't mean that", the blonde disagreed with a pointed look to the ball that clearly served as some kind of outlet. "You care. You don't want to show it, but you do. You're uncomfortable because you think you might have complicated things for them. They're your friends."

"They are not", Santana insisted stubbornly.

"How do you know what happened when they were talking in that room?"

"I was there, Brit", she answered. How else would she know? Quinn sure as hell didn't tell her – the girl kept too much inside, that much was for sure.

"I thought they had asked you and Kurt to leave after you gave them their pep talks?"

"Yeah, and Kurt did leave, probably for some quality time with the boyfriend, but I stayed to make sure…", she trailed off, noticing Brittany's smirk. Or, at least, what would have been a smirk if Brittany was capable of anything else than a sweet smile.

"You stayed to make sure…what?", she asked.

"That everything was going well", Santana admitted.

"You do care", Brittany grinned.

"Okay, so I might care. What do you expect me to do with that?" Toss, catch, toss higher, catch.

"I expect you to go in there and talk to Rachel", the blonde replied, gesturing to the restroom they had seen the small diva disappear into.

"What? No! Why can't I talk to Quinn?"

"I guess you could-"

"Hey guys, have you seen Rachel?"

"Jesus, Q, don't sneak up on people like that", Santana exclaimed, quickly catching her ball mid-air.

The blonde regarded her with an odd look. "We're in the middle of a hallway. Not my fault you only have eyes for Brit and…is that a ping pong ball? You always were easily entertained, but…"

Taking a step forward, the Latina narrowed her eyes and held the ball up to her friend's face. "Let's see how good you are at talking if I put this-"

"Rachel is in there", Brittany interrupted, putting herself between the two girls.

"Thanks", Quinn smiled, already walking off in the direction Brittany had pointed her to.

The bubbly blonde turned to her girlfriend, raising her eyebrows, and Santana immediately went soft. "Sorry", she mumbled.

"It's okay. I know you get defensive. Especially when someone catches you in an emotional mood. You unnecessarily over-compensate, but I know you're working on it", Brittany said matter-of-factly.

"How do you…I…what have…?", Santana spluttered.

"I'm perceptive. What I lack in IQ I make up for in EQ. Kinda like you, only the other way around. It's part of why you love me. So, wanna go make out?"

"Yeah", the Latina said, a little stunned. "Yes to all of that."

In the restroom, Quinn found Rachel staring into the mirror.

"Hi", she said, startling the brunette. "Admiring your reflection?", she asked, inwardly slapping herself for such a weak conversational intro. Rachel would surely take it as an insult – in the past, it had always been. Now, it was just her trying to start a conversation. She had thought about Rachel all weekend long; about what had been said between them when they'd last seen each other, how Schuester had interrupted them, and about how she didn't know exactly what he'd interrupted. Was it wishful thinking or had they really been about to kiss? Quinn didn't dare hope it. For two days now, she'd been nervous, battling with herself. Should she call Rachel? Should she talk to Santana about the whole thing? Would she be able to survive until Monday to get some clarity? In the end, she'd decided to wait, but now Monday had come and she'd spent almost the whole school day not resolving anything. Rachel hadn't come to try and talk to her, and that scared her.

"Rachel?", she said, when the girl still hadn't answered her. "Do you…do you not want to talk to me?"

The diva had her back to her, but she saw her face clearly in the mirror – how her eyes closed and her mouth was pressed into a thin line. Then, a shake of the head, and a whispered "Not right now."

"Do you want me to go?", Quinn asked, fearing the other girl would really send her away. Something was wrong, and Quinn prayed she wasn't the cause for Rachel looking so sad and so lost.

Again Rachel didn't answer for a while, but something about her stance and the look on her face was strange. Quinn tried to figure out when she had last seen Rachel look like that, and then it hit her. "Are you counting to ten?", she asked incredulously. Really? After all the trouble it had brought them the last time?

"I've come to realize it really does help me clear my mind", Rachel said, and her voice was so…off…that Quinn could only nod. She decided to use the time to really look at the girl. The first thing that caught her attention was the clothes, or rather, how they looked on her. Rachel's beauty was sometimes hidden by how she dressed, but it was never completely gone, no matter the hideous owl sweaters. And she definitely looked the hottest when she didn't try, just like now. She actually wore jeans, something she seldom did, and a tight blue shirt that fitted her. Really fitted her. She didn't remember ever seeing this shirt on her, and she definitely would if she'd ever worn it before. It clung to her in all the right places, and Quinn couldn't stop herself from imagining taking it off. She had a hard time not fantasizing about Rachel after she'd finally allowed herself to think of her that way, but now, with this shirt, it was almost unmanageable. It was a good shirt. A shirt she had never seen before. Wait, what? How was that possible? Sure, she hadn't talked to Rachel all day, but that didn't mean she hadn't seen her – and this was most definitely not what she had worn two hours ago. Now that she thought about it, hadn't Rachel been wearing a skirt earlier? Why had she changed into different clothes during school?

The moment it dawned on her, she was next to Rachel, clenching her fists, willing the other girl to turn and look at her. "Someone slushied you."

It wasn't a question, but when Rachel nodded she still found herself wishing she hadn't been right. "Who was it?", she demanded to know.

"It doesn't matter, Quinn. You know it happens all the time", Rachel said.

"It does matter!", the blonde shouted. "Because I thought it had stopped and because you've never looked so sad before!"

"You're right, it had stopped. I haven't been partial to a slushy treatment in quite a while. And maybe that's exactly the reason it hit me a little harder this time. I'll be back to my old self in no time, Quinn. Just let me gather myself, and I'll be fine."

"This is not acceptable", Quinn grumbled, looking like she might kill someone soon. "I won't let that continue to happen to you. You're off limits."

"You think you can just tell them to stop and they'll do it? You think you have that power?", Rachel challenged.

"Of course I have. I always told them who to go for and who to leave alone; and I might not be as far up the social ladder as I was anymore, but I can still do that."

Rachel said nothing to that, instead regarding the blonde with a raised eyebrow and wide eyes. What's that look for?, Quinn wondered. And then she realized what she had just said. Oh my god…

"Rachel, I'm…I didn't mean…you have to understand…I was…" No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't form a coherent sentence. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't talk herself out of this. No matter how hard she tried, she was never going to get Rachel to feel what she felt for her. She felt like crying. She felt like she was going to suffocate any minute now.

"Easy, Quinn. Deep breaths. Come on, in and out", Rachel mumbled, gathering Quinn in her arms and trying to calm her down. "You're okay, we're okay. Just breathe, Quinn."

"Please forgive me", the blonde implored.

"I already have", Rachel reminded her. "You need to calm down. I'm not angry at you. I promise, we're fine."

"But you can't just forgive me", Quinn protested.

"Why not?", Rachel asked. "It's what you want from me."

"Because I don't deserve it", Quinn cried. "And I want you to forgive me because you mean it, not because it's what I want from you."

"But it's what I want, too", the brunette explained. "I want to forgive you because I want us to move on. And I do forgive you because you do deserve it, Quinn. You need to let yourself believe that. I believe that. I believe in you."

And just like that, the crying stopped. "You do?"

"I told you", Rachel smiled. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, but you're also much, much more than that."

"You said pretty, not beautiful", Quinn corrected softly. "And there was only one much in that sentence, not two."

"Then I guess you've managed to raise my opinion of you even more since we've had that conversation."

Quinn smiled, unbelievably happy to have this girl in her live.

"Are you okay now?", Rachel asked, concern tinting her voice.

"Perfect", Quinn breathed.

"Let's get out of here. I do believe we've stayed her long enough for our next class to be over. Our friends will all be running around somewhere out there in the hallways. Want to go look for Brittany and Santana?"

"You voluntarily want to spend time with Santana?", Quinn couldn't help asking.

"We've come to an understanding", the other girl shrugged.

"I see", Quinn grinned.

"Are you coming?", Rachel asked when Quinn didn't move.

"I have to do something first", the blonde answered.

"Okay…?", Rachel said, surprised when Quinn suddenly rushed for the door with a positively scary look on her face.

"There are some jocks I need to have a word with." And with that, she was out the door.