A/N: Underneath all of my angst, I'm pretty much a sap. So this probably steered cheesy at certain points, but you know, cheesy people exist...so yeah :). That's also why these two parts are split up. I feel like they represent two very different Quinn's. The before and after. Also, I realize that this story has some similarities with another story I wrote. To be honest, I'm obsessed with certain ideas taking place. Also, I really enjoy commas...please let me know if you enjoyed this. I've been losing my writing motivation lately. I don't know if I like this. Let me know what you guys think.

A/N 2: More notes at the end.

You're So Mean When You Talk (About Yourself)

(Part Two of Two)

The hardest thing in life for Quinn has always been separating herself from the things that she wanted. It's the reason why she was fat, the reason why she had tried so hard to hold on to Finn. Quinn was a self indulger if there ever was one and right now she just really wanted to indulge in Santana's fantasies.

But she couldn't be that girl because she wasn't. She didn't know how to be that girl, how to stop caring and to stop plotting or how to stop being so spiteful. She didn't know how to let anyone in or how to properly keep anyone out (at least not anymore).

She blames Santana as she's making her way towards the train station (her sundress sloppy because she's worn it two days in a row and her bag oddly heavy). At least, she wants to, because Quinn doesn't know when she stopped wanting Santana and started needing Santana instead, and that can't be Quinn's fault. That can't be her fault at all. She doesn't know how to need things properly, she only knows how to take, so Santana must have changed her somehow.

It isn't until she's sitting on the train home that she decides it's for the worse, because she doesn't think Quinn Fabray could ever change for the better.

A few days pass and her phone never stops beeping, so she shuts the thing off. She throws herself into schoolwork and her roommates dating problems because it's easier to to a student than it is to pretend like she doesn't care.

The worst thing about all of this isn't the fact that Quinn feels incredibly inadequate (because believe it or not she's pretty much made inadequacy her friend). No, that isn't it, and it isn't even the fact that she knows she was only a filler for the main show. Those things she expected because that's the way her life has always gone, but the worst thing is that Quinn can't stop caring.

She doesn't stop caring about Santana and she can't help but be concerned.

It's too much, it's way too much for a girl who's been numb to everything for the past few years. It's too much for the girl who plotted and schemed and arranged a way to screw over every single person she ever came across. She's good at that, good at being evil and horrible and awful. But this? God, Quinn was failing at this because it felt like some flip was switched and suddenly all these feelings just wanted to settle inside of her.

It was irritating and strange and too much to handle. Quinn tries to tell her body to stop, she tries to tell her mind to go back to the girl she was four years ago, but it's too late. Parts of Quinn are already changing and there's she can really do to stop it.

The feelings overwhelm her. They overwhelm her and her hands itch to dial Santana's number. Her hands itch and her mind races and she finds herself spending days thinking about tan skin and biting remarks.

If only she wasn't too headstrong to go back. If only she wasn't absolutely afraid of rejection.

If only Quinn was as strong as Santana, as the girl she pretended to be, then she could go back and claim what she wanted to be hers. But she knows better, she's seen love change into something vile and she's seen love trap someone. She watched her mother turn from a lovely woman into something that was to be controlled.

Quinn shakes her head again, shaking away the thoughts that have been sinking in ever since she left Santana's. She's tried to stop her mind from running around in circles, she's tried to stop herself from returning to thoughts from that day, but she's never been good at ignoring the things she wanted.

Quinn grunts in frustration and shoves her Statistics homework away, already certain that she isn't going to get very far tonight. She doesn't understand what's wrong with her. It had been her idea to use Santana, it had been her idea to continue sleeping with her even though she had known it would end badly. It had all been Quinn's plan, so why did she feel like she was the one suffering?

There's a bing on her computer and Quinn turns her head, curious to see if it's her roommate Skyping her again. She sees Rachel's name on the screen and decides to accept the call. Just because she was shutting out Santana (only until she could figure out what was happening, only until Quinn could come up with a plan) didn't mean that she wanted to shut out Quinn, too.

Quinn clicked the answer button and tried to put on a happy smile. "Hey Rach."

Rachel's face appeared on the screen. She was wearing her zebra print pajamas and had her hair up in a bun. "Quinn! I've been trying to reach you for days."

"Yeah..." Quinn trailed off. "I've been...busy." Quinn finished lamely.

Rachel rolled her eyes, seemingly clued into the fact that Quinn was lying. "Sure, okay."

"So, what's up?" Quinn asked, trying to avoid the one thing she really wanted to ask about.

"You tell me."

Quinn froze. "What?"

"Tell me why Santana hasn't left her corner of the living room in two days. Which, might I add, is incredibly inconvenient for our guests. She's moping and lashing out and it's more cruel than usual. So, tell me. What is going on?"

There's a question in Rachel's answer. A Question underneath her question. Something she's not really saying but that Quinn knows she wants the answer to, and Quinn wants to give her that. She wants to give Rachel the thoughts that have been plaguing her lately because maybe Rachel can make sense of it all, but it's hard to put into words. Everything up until now is hard to put into words.

She can't help but wonder if anyone else has felt like this. So messed up, confused, and absolutely at a loss. Quinn wants to explain that to Rachel but she has a feeling that even if she could explain it, Rachel just wouldn't get it.

"It was only a matter of time." Quinn settles on, even though that isn't what she really wants to say.

Rachel huffs and Quinn feels like a scolded child. "You know, for a girl who got into Yale, you keep acting like someone of below average intelligence."

Quinn frowned, her back pressing into the back of her chair. "Did you just insult me?"

Rachel waved Quinn off. "It's a minor side effect from living with Santana. Anyway, my point is that you're being an idiot."

"I gathered that."

Rachel continued on, ignoring Quinn's interruption. "Quinn, I know it's not really any of my business and I don't claim to know where either of you are truly coming from...I just, she misses you."

Quinn snorted. "Yeah, right."

"No, really." Rachel says sincerely, her head bobbing in agreement. "She misses you. Of course she won't admit it out loud, but she keeps yelling expletives in Spanish and then breaks one of my plates against the wall. Quinn," Rachel said seriously, her face leaning towards the camera. "I'm running out of plates."

Quinn smiled at the mental picture of Santana throwing plates against the wall. That sounds exactly like how Santana would cope with something and Quinn can't help but think of Santana fondly. "I'm sorry to hear that Rachel, but I don't know how that concerns me."

"Cut the crap, Quinn. We've always been honest with each other so don't stop now."

Quinn sighed, her fingers twitching against the her table and her mind pushing the idea to just run. "Santana and I are done. There's nothing left that could possibly concern me."

"Why?" Rachel demands, and Quinn wants to hit her. Rachel has never been this demanding of her and Quinn doesn't like it.

"Brittany." Quinn answers, because it's enough of a reason. Hell, it is the reason.

Rachel sighs. "For such a pretty girl, you have such a low sense of self worth."

"Excuse me?"

Rachel leaned back and licked her lips. "No offense, Quinn, but you're giving yourself excuses. Brittany hasn't been relevant for quite some time now and a part of you knows that." Quinn doesn't say anything and it's the answer Rachel needs to continue. "You're scared and you're too much of a coward to admit why you're scared. But let me tell you something, Quinn, all of us are scared. We all have fears, okay? Don't let them take over you. Don't let them ruin a good thing."

"How would you even know?" Quinn snaps, her irritation rising at Rachel's insinuations. "You know nothing about my relationship with Santana and you know nothing about how she truly is. You're just a person who's kind enough to let her use their couch because she has absolutely nowhere else to go, but she'll leave you, too, Rachel. It's what she does. It's what she's good at. She left me for Brittany, Brittany for school, school for New York, and New York for me. It's what she does to survive. It's how she's always been. She takes what she needs and then she goes, and I don't want to still be here waiting when she finally decides she's done taking from me. I will not be my mother."

Rachel's mouth is hanging open as Quinn's chest heaves, her breath coming in bursts. Rachel snapped her mouth closed and hardened her gaze and it hits Quinn then that maybe Rachel's changed, too, maybe they all have. "You're a fool, Quinn Fabray. You're a fool if you think she doesn't love you and you're a fool if you actually believe that that's the type of person Santana is now. God, who are you these days?"

Rachel doesn't even give Quinn a chance for a rebuttal. She doesn't even tell Quinn goodbye. Instead she logs off of Skype, quickly ending their conversation.

A part of Quinn knows that she deserved it (because everything that's ever happened to her she must have deserved) but in the end, it still hurts. It hurts because Rachel's words feel a lot like she's picking sides and Quinn doesn't know if that means she's lost Rachel too.

The worst part is that when she looks in the mirror that night she sees herself looking back, but she doesn't feel like Quinn anymore.

The gang in New York pretty much leaves her alone after that.

It's sad, because now Quinn feels truly alone, but also satisfying because she feels right. She feels like she called this from the get-go and everyone else was just proving her point.

A part of her, a tiny part, wonders what it'd be like if Santana had loved her as much as she loved Brittany. Would she have made an epic declaration of love? Would she have chased Quinn down? Would she have shot down every single one of Quinn's fears and replaced them with ideas of love?

Quinn doesn't know that, of course, she can only guess with things like that. It's dumb to wonder about such things, but at the same time...maybe that's the truest and shiniest example of how far Quinn's come? The fact that she can't do anything but constantly wonder about all the what-if's, maybe's, and could haves that might have taken place between her and Santana.

Maybe it's reckless to indulge in such things. But she's always been an indulger and Santana's always been reckless, so maybe Quinn was turning into some weird version of the two?

Whatever it was that was happening with her, Quinn could definitely feel it. She could feel it in the way that her heart ached, in the way she cried at sappy love movies, in the way that her eyes would zone in on her phone every time it would ring. Quinn could feel it in the way that Yale started to feel less like her solace and more like her prison.

Her mind drifted to Santana more than she wanted it to and less than she thought it would. And when Quinn's mind would drift, her fingers would as well. They would itch and Quinn would become overwhelmed with the desire to call Santana. She wanted to call and speak to her best friend, she wanted to call and tell Santana about all the things that were changing, all the things that Santana had somehow changed within her (when she wasn't even trying), but Quinn was still afraid.

Santana's interest had taken a dive after the first few weeks of Quinn ignoring her every attempt at contact. Sure, it made sense, but at the same time Quinn figured that if Santana had really been interested...well, she would have kept trying.

Maybe her ideas were jaded and maybe she was in the wrong, but those were things Quinn couldn't take away overnight. Not even if she wanted to.

It's nearing the end of Summer vacation when Quinn gets the call that changes her life.

People like to say that the biggest changes take place over the course of time. But Quinn knows better. Real change is abrupt, it happens in an instant. It takes place in a moment, a memory, a *second*. Change is quick and unforgiving, it's the acknowledgement of that change that truly takes forever. It takes a long time for everyone else to notice it. Real change is quick and harsh and leaves no room for you to breathe, it only leaves room for you to adjust.

She's leaving the college bookstore (her summer job since she had declined her mother's invitation to come home for the summer) and nearly at her dorm door when her phone started buzzing. She has her hopes but she also has her realities, and her heart doesn't ache that much when the caller id says mom instead of Santana.

"Hello?" Quinn says as she shoves her phone in between her ear and her shoulder.

"Quinnie?" A voice filters through and Quinn freezes outside of her dorm door, her hand on the handle. She always hated that nickname.

"Mom?"

There's a laugh and it's the confirmation Quinn was looking for, even though she doesn't understand how anything from this barely-started-conversation could be funny. Judy sighs. "Quinnie, I needed to talk to you about your major."

Quinn opens her door, confusion written all over her face. "My major?"

Her mother hums in agreement. "Your father just noticed that your major says Literature instead of Business."

"That's because it is. I told you this during Thanksgiving break, remember?" Quinn asks, confused as to why her mother was bringing this up now.

Judy sighs and it's the only warning that Quinn needs. Things were about to go extremely bad, extremely quick. "The thing is, Quinnie, your father would feel a lot more comfortable if you chose to pursue a degree in business instead." Her mother's voice sounds concerned but Quinn knows what she's really saying. What she's really saying is Russell Fabray won't allow it just like he won't allow so many other things.

Quinn shuts her door behind her and sits down on her bed, trying not to sound like a stubborn child. "But I don't want a business degree."

"Sweetie," Judy starts, even though her voice is anything but. "Your father is getting older, do you really want to disappoint him?"

This moment says a lot about where she comes from and who her family is. It says a lot about her so called parents, that they'd rather manipulate her and force her into a future that they wanted (that she despised) all because it would make them feel better. All because it'd boost the way they feel about themselves and the stupid image they project. "What does that have to do anything?"

"It's just that-you're so young. Do you really know what's best for yourself? Your father has lived a long time on this earth."

It says a lot more that her family tries to use age against her. Like old age is anything to feel sorry for. Like youth is anything she should have to apologize for. Quinn braces herself and tries to sound calm. "Mother. This is what I want."

Judy sighs the sigh she always has when she thinks that Quinn is being difficult. "This is what your father wants."

That's all it takes for Quinn's world to stop, flip, and start all over again. It hits Quinn then that she's been living the majority of her life for someone else. She's been afraid because her parents have made her this way. She wasn't born this girl, she was made this way over time, and she was only doing what they wanted. She was only doing the things they wanted from her because she had been afraid to do otherwise. She hadn't been ready, then, to be completely and utterly alone.

Maybe her parents didn't truly love her, maybe they looked at her like she was some kind of prize, but up until this very moment Quinn had held out hope that maybe some day things would change.

She knows now that they won't.

She knows now that her parents have no real love for her.

Real love isn't about manipulation or owing somebody something. Real love didn't stem from blood or obligation or even debt. Real love came from somewhere within, it made you feel less alone and more whole. Real love drove you crazy and made you feel insecure, but only because it was that great. Real love planted seeds of doubt and well being and thoughts of the future.

Her family knew nothing about real love, her family knew nothing about love. They had taught Quinn nothing and expected her to thrive. Maybe if she had stayed in Lima she would have. Maybe if she had stayed behind she would have become exactly like her mother. But things were different now, Quinn was different.

She had escaped, she had left, and yet she was still acting like she was stuck in little old Lima, Ohio. Before Quinn could stop it everything started clicking into place. The drawer, Santana's silence, Rachel's insistence, Santana's desire to have Quinn around, they all led to one thing and Quinn had been a fool to believe otherwise.

They all led to love. Friendship, loyalty, affection, everything Quinn had told herself she was incapable of.

She knows it now, she knows the real reason she had picked Santana. She gets it because underneath all of Quinn's misgivings and faults and discrepancies, there was a girl who was vile and tender and lost. There was a girl who had pushed everyone away. Everyone except Santana.

She gets it now because even though Quinn is all of those things, even though she's never pretended to be otherwise, Santana has continued to stay by her side. Through Cheerios, Glee, pregnancy, The Skanks, Beth again, Yale, a wheelchair...Santana was always there.

Santana had never left her, even when she was at her worst, and that's why she had chosen Santana. Even though she didn't realize it until now.

God, she had made a mistake. She had made such a huge fucking mistake. How had she been so blind? How had she not recognized the signs? How had she not known that she was in love with Santana?

Love, like change, hit Quinn abruptly, and it was minutes before everything around her started changing. Now every memory was hazed over with affection, every thought concerning Santana was laced with possessiveness. Every moment they had spent together was locked away for safekeeping. God, she was turning into Rachel.

If she had the time to panic, she would, but right now there wasn't time for anything except shutting down her mother. Now was the time for change, now was the time for Quinn to stand up for something that she actually wanted.

"I don't care about what he wants, mother. It isn't what I want."

"Quinn." Her mother says, her tone exasperated. "If you honestly expect him to dish out money for your education only so that you can pursue whatever hat-trick degree you feel is important, then I must inform you of how selfish you're being."

Quinn snarled, her mom's comment hitting a chord. She tried to stop it, but it was too late, she already saw red. "You know what? I don't need his help. I'll take care of it myself." Quinn doesn't have to add 'just like always' because she knows that it's implied. She hangs up on her mother and doesn't feel guilty about it. She looks around her dorm room and it hits Quinn that she never even wanted this.

She never even wanted Yale to begin with, her parents had, and now that she was separating herself from them the whole place just seemed wrong. It had already seemed wrong to begin with but now it just seemed worse. Yale was practically Lima at this point, neither were her home and neither felt like it.

Quinn sighed. Perhaps it was time for a change of scenery.

Quinn puts in her transfer to NYU later that day, and really, who didn't see that coming?

It's late but she somehow manages to squeak through. Of course, she's one of the last to be enrolled so she can only register for one class.

Still, Quinn feels free in a way she never thought she would.

Overall, It's oddly reassuring that she's moving to a state with roughly eighteen million people. It's nice to know that even when she's at her lowest, she still couldn't possibly be alone.

Her mother doesn't attempt to call her again and if she's being honest, Quinn is absolutely fine with that. The reins that her family have held on her life are loosening and Quinn knows it.

She can feel it in the way that it's easier to breathe. She can feel it in the way that when her thoughts shuffle towards Santana (which is frequently these days) she doesn't feel guilty anymore.

Her only issue is money.

She still has money stored away from her scholarship and she has the last check her father had sent her for tuition. It's enough to cover a semester at NYU but she needed something else. If she could only find a place to live that would be cheaper than dorms. Not just that, though, she needed an income.

Quinn Fabray needed a job.

She's halfway through her first week at NYU when Quinn decides to bite the bullet and just call Santana.

She's finished her morning classes and on her way to an interview at a coffee shop (she needs money, quickly, because the dorms are intense and expensive). She's nervous because this feels like a step towards her future and she just really wants to share it with Santana.

She hasn't spent much time on wondering if Santana will take her back, but she hopes that she will. She's not concerned with her sexuality or the fact that Santana's a woman because to Quinn, those worries are meaningless.

She didn't fall in love with the body, she fell in love with the person. Sure, it helps that Santana was smoking hot (as Puck would say) and great at scratching all of Quinn's itches (as Santana would say). Overall, though, Quinn just thinks it's a Santana thing.

Maybe she is gay or maybe she's only gay for santana. Either way, those things change nothing for her. She still wants to be with Santana even though she doesn't know why. She's still in love with Santana (which proves that love is blind because Quinn could have fallen for anyone and instead she fell for the most infuriating, aggravating, challenging, irritating person that Quinn has ever met. And boy does Quinn think she's beautiful. See? Love, man) regardless of all of those things.

So Quinn bites the bullet and dials Santana's number as she's walking down fourth. Nobody knows that she's here yet, she wanted to be situated when she finally made her presence known. But love has made her eager. If she wasn't so infatuated, she would have been disgusted by what she's turned into.

It takes seven rings and Quinn can't deny the fact that it hurts. Santana has never sent her to voicemail before and Quinn wonders if that would be some sort of sign. She sighs, about to give up and end the call, when Santana picks up.

Santana doesn't say anything and it makes sense. This is one of those times where Quinn has to make the first move.

She settles on "hey" because 'I love you' is the climax, and she can't give it away too soon, because that'll ruin the whole plotline.

"Fuck you, Fabray." Santana spits out.

Quinn tries not to wince. "Okay. I deserved that."

"Fuck you." Santana says again, except it has less bite this time.

"Santana," Quinn says, ready to push this conversation forward.

Santana's breath hitches at her name and Quinn has no idea what it means. Santana whispers this time. "Fuck you."

Quinn ignores it and pushes on. "Can we just talk? Please?"

"Fuck. You."

Quinn rolls her eyes, it's like talking to a fucking wall. Still, though, Quinn had to continue. "I miss you." Quinn admits, because it's true and honesty can't hurt her here.

She prepares herself for a repeat of Santana's words. Instead Santana sighs, her voice exhausted.

"Prove it."

It isn't until the dial tone comes through that Quinn realizes Santana hung up on her. Quinn snaps her phone closed with a frown. She has absolutely no idea how to do that.

She's never proven anything in her life and it scares Quinn that Santana's asking her to start now.

She doesn't really know what she should do and the when she Googles it, the internet just gives her a list of awful eighties movies. Quinn thinks that they're terrible suggestions, and the people on The Tumblr aren't really helpful either.

But she doesn't have many options.

Nobody taught her how to want something and nobody showed her how to fight for people, so Quinn was certainly at a loss right now. Quinn stared at her computer screen and sighed. Was that what she was doing now? Fighting for Santana? God, she only really knows how to fight with Santana.

And if she was fighting for Santana, would that require a major declaration of love? Because Quinn isn't so certain she could do that. Plus, she's pretty much tired of singing musical numbers (due to glee), she doesn't own a lawn mower, and today isn't her day off.

Still. Quinn doesn't really have that many options and she's pretty much drained her friend faucet.

Quinn sighs again and copies the movie list onto a piece of paper, ignoring how ill she feels on the inside. She didn't do feelings or intimacy so even the idea of such things made her queasy. But she was going to try. She was going to try for Santana because even though she wasn't that girl, Quinn wanted to show Santana that she could try to be.

Also, she has no classes today and eight hours to kill.

Ferris Buellers Day Off

Funny, but no. She doesn't have the manpower for that large of a musical number and she most certainly has no access to a Ferrari. Plus, her parents aren't even talking to her right now.

Quinn huffed. This movie was invalid.

The Breakfast Club

Interesting, but still a no. Perhaps this would have worked had Quinn still been stuck in Lima. In fact, a part of her wishes that something like this had happened. Maybe it did. Maybe Glee Club was the modern day Breakfast Club. Either way, this movie wouldn't solve her problem.

Quinn smiled. She really wanted to fist pump in the air now.

Say Anything

Clearly, this was the best movie of the bunch. It totally didn't make her cry. Totally.

Quinn looked at the clock and winced when she saw that it read 9:32PM. She had been sitting in the same spot for over five hours. Jesus, no wonder her butt was sore. Quinn sighed and sat up, her back cracking as she straightened. Here she was five hours later and none the wiser.

What was the point of cheesy romantic comedies from the eighties if they didn't teach you anything? Whatever happened to having an actual conversation?

Quinn bit her lip as her eyes glanced at her phone. Maybe she should just try and have a discussion with Santana? Would that be so hard?

Quinn grabbed her phone and decided to chance it.

Quinn: what would you do if I showed up outside of your apartment with a boombox?

Santana: I would punch you in the face and then throw your boombox out the window.

Quinn: Good to know.

It isn't a very welcoming answer, but Quinn gets the feeling that the point is that Santana answered, that she was still answering. It meant that Quinn had a chance. (Which, maybe that's the whole point of eighties movies. Maybe the point of these movies was that there was always hope for change, that there was always hope. All you had to do is try and learn and take a chance.)

She gets the job at the coffee shop. It isn't where she thought she'd be and on the hardest days (when customers are cruel, the machines aren't working, and the tips are low) Quinn looks out the window and counts all the ways that NYC is different from Ohio.

This whole experience has taught her one thing. It's taught her that she can't prove anything to Santana until she proves something to herself.

So, Quinn starts with the small things.

She joins a writing club and a GSA at NYU, even though every part of her is screaming to go be a hermit far, far away.

She starts by texting Santana every couple of days. Santana's replies are usually hostile, but hey, Rome wasn't built in a day. Quinn is just grateful that she's still replying at all.

(The conversations are frequent and very much the same.)

Quinn: Hey.

Santana: Hey is for Ass-hats.

Quinn: I thought it was for horses?

Santana: No, it's for Ass-hats.

Quinn: Well...then, hello.

Santana: That's for Ass-hats, too.

Quinn: Good morning?

Santana: Appears to be the same.

Quinn: I miss you?

Santana: ...

Santana: Prove it.

Quinn is a month into the semester when she decides that she's finally ready.

The idea of Santana doesn't overwhelm her anymore, it just makes her ache, and maybe that's the first sign. Yes, it's true that she was in love with Santana, but that doesn't mean that she wasn't scared. Love has always terrified her and Quinn had needed some time to prepare herself for such a thing (so that this time she wouldn't go running at the first sight of something that could be more). She had needed time with her insecurities, her desires, and her wants, so that she could grow accustomed to them and figure out which ones were holding her back.

Anyway, she decides she's ready and that she's going to need back up because Santana has always been a great competitor, and Quinn doesn't want to get beaten so early in the game.

She calls Rachel and asks her to meet her at a local Starbuck's. After all, if Quinn's trying to rebuild her broken bridges and erase her worst traits, she should probably start with the easiest ones first.

She sits in the corner and waits for Rachel, sighing in relief when Rachel comes trudging through, a smile on her lips.

"Quinn Fabray, I have most certainly missed you." Rachel says as she leans in to give Quinn a quick hug.

Quinn sits back down on her chair as Rachel sits across from her, and rubs her hands nervously. "I missed you too, Rach."

"You certainly look brighter since the last time we talked." Rachel comments offhandedly. "Anyway, where are my manners? What brings you to New York?"

Quinn bites her lip worriedly, not entirely certain how Rachel would react. "Actually, I, uh...I go to NYU. I live here now." Quinn waved her hand towards the window as if that would paint a better picture.

"Get the fuck out."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

Rachel shrugged. Not really apologetic. Her face was pulled into a look of confusion. "Sorry, you can only spend so much time with a roommate before their vocabulary starts to rub off on you. Although, should I be concerned that Santana still sounds nothing like me?" Rachel looks up at the ceiling in curiosity before meeting Quinn's gaze again. "I digress...anyway, Quinn! That's huge."

"Yeah."

Rachel crosses her legs and Quinn finally acknowledges the fact that Rachel looks different. She's dressed differently, she's wearing make-up, her clothing is shorter and tighter and her heels are killer. If Quinn didn't know any better, she'd say that Rachel looked like Santana.

She was totally projecting. Rachel had a simple makeover and now Quinn was projecting. Jesus, what was wrong with her?

Rachel waved her hand in front of Quinn's face, snapping her out of her reverie. "Quinn, I must say that I'm incredibly impressed. Moving to New York City for Santana? That's a romantic gesture if there's ever been one."

"I didn't move here for Santana." Quinn answers with a frown.

Rachel nods, even though it's clear she doesn't agree. "Okay, sure. But I'm assuming that's why you called me down here? I'm here because of Santana?"

"Yes."

Rachel grinned and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "Great. Let's discuss all the ways in which you can win her back."

Quinn shook her head frantically. This conversation was quickly pulling away from her. "No, I want to speak with her." Quinn says. "In person." She adds as an afterthought.

Maybe Rachel was just a sucker for love or maybe she was a hopeless romantic who likes happy endings, or maybe she was just truly that good of a friend. Either way, Rachel didn't ask for an apology and she didn't try to stop Quinn. Instead, she smiled and stretched her hand out until it was covering Quinn's.

"Okay."

Rachel grabs her hand and drags Quinn to her apartment, her smile overwhelmingly positive. Quinn honestly doesn't know if this is really a good idea, but just like all things that concern Santana and Quinn, she moves forward anyway.

They reach Rachel's door quicker than Quinn likes and she doesn't have time to catch her breath before Rachel is throwing open the door carelessly.

Quinn hesitates, one foot in and one foot out, when Rachel pulls her the rest of the way in.

"Santana!" Rachel shouts, and oh no, Quinn is starting to panic. She didn't think things would move this quickly.

"Hobbit!" A voice (coming from somewhere over towards the bathroom) shouts back.

Rachel chuckles. "I got you a present, dimwit."

"It better be a stripper, baby hoe."

Quinn squints at Santana's response. Seriously, what kind of insults were those? They didn't even make sense. Quinn hears footsteps before she sees Santana and she braces herself for whatever is about to come.

It's a good thing she does, too, because as soon as Santana comes into view, Quinn's breath hitches, her knees go weak, and her face flushes. It's cliche, of course it is, but it's also love.

Santana stops when she notices Quinn. She's wearing pajama shorts and a wife beater. Her hair is down and it's crazy how sexy Quinn finds it. Santana points a finger at Quinn, her eyes directed towards Rachel. "What the hell is she doing here?"

Rachel shrugs and gives Santana a lopsided grin. "I actually have to go. I don't know what warning will suffice in this moment, so I'm going to list them all." Rachel turned back towards the door and opened it. "Don't have sex on my furniture, don't break anything, don't kill each other. Santana." Rachel looked over her shoulder. "Don't throw any dishes, please. I just got a new set." Rachel stepped outside. "Have fun!"

Santana stares at Quinn as the door shut, her expression unreadable. "What brings you here, Q?"

There's a lot of things Quinn could say right now, but they'd be filler. She's tired of wasting time when she should just be enjoying it.

"You."

It's no giant-eighties-love-declaration, but for Quinn it's monumental.

Santana nods, her expression unchanging. "I gave you space."

"I know."

Santana crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes downcast and focusing intently on her feet. "I gave you time."

"I know." Quinn says, again.

Santana meets Quinn's gaze again and it's a relief because Quinn can finally see anger in those eyes. "I gave you a drawer."

"I'm here." Quinn says, changing tactics.

"You're four months late."

Quinn curled her fists, the desire to run becoming stronger with the moment. No, she needed to do this. She needed to prove that she was different, that she was trying, that this could work. "I'm here now."

Santana shrugged, her feet glued to the floor. "That proves nothing."

"I don't go to Yale anymore." Quinn offers, her hands at her sides.

Santana eyes Quinn curiously. "That proves something."

"I go to NYU now. I live here." Quinn gestured towards the door, even though it wasn't needed.

"Better."

Quinn rolls her eyes and takes a step forward. "I'm sorry."

Santana doesn't buy it. "Sure."

"I like you." Quinn says, even though it's unnecessary because who would have sex with someone they didn't like for four months and then show up four months later to get said person back?

"Okay."

Quinn feels anger bubble underneath the surface. "I want to date you."

"Obviously, I'm fucking fantastic." Santana scoffs and it's the first sign that the old Santana is still in there, that this whole thing just might go Quinn's way.

Quinn hesitates before deciding to just lay it out there. She has nothing to lose from this, nothing at all, and at the very least...well, she'll know that she gave everything she had to this. Quinn takes another step forward as well as a deep breath.

"I love you."

Santana freezes. Her body goes rigid and her eyes are hard. "What?"

"I love you." Quinn repeats. She must admit, it's much easier the second time.

Santana's eyes widen, the hardness quickly leaving. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately."

Santana takes a step forward. "I ask you to prove it and you go all sap-shit on me. What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Quinn?"

Quinn would have been offended if Santana hadn't laughed at the end, her eyes twinkling and her dimples showing. It's weird, Quinn thinks, that she wants to have Santana look like that more often.

If someone would have told her four years ago that she'd be here doing this she probably would have cut them. But that's how life works sometimes. There's no amount of plotting, planning, or conniving that could prepare you for the loops that life often decides to throw at you.

Quinn shrugs, taking the final step forward until Santana and her were standing directly in front of each other. Santana's arms are uncrossed now and Quinn decides that she likes this look on her. she likes it when Santana looks welcoming and shy and earnest.

"You could say it back. Or you could kiss me. Or you could pretend I had a boombox and a mower. Oh! You could pump your fist into the air slowly, that seems cool."

Santana is eyeing Quinn curiously again and Quinn blushes underneath her gaze. She raises her hands and shrugs. "Sorry, I've been watching a lot of eighties movies lately."

Santana laughs, she actually laughs at that, and it's nice to hear such a thing after the past few months Quinn's had. Santana's smile fades and she grabs Quinn's hand. "This doesn't make things better, you know?"

"I know." Quinn agrees, her fingers sliding in between Santana's. "But it's a start, right?"

Santana hums and Quinn takes that as her form of agreement. She uses her other hand (the right one, the free one) to brush away a strand of hair from Santana's face. "Is that drawer still up for discussion?"

Santana squints her eyes as though she's really thinking about it. "I dunno, it's been a long four months. I might need some convincing."

Quinn grins then, her smile toothy and devious. She feels relieved as her mouth descends over Santana's, and it's a great feeling. She's not terrified or panicking or thinking about all the ways in which she could run away. No, she's embracing the future, and maybe it'll be hard. Santana will probably push her too far and Quinn will probably be a bitch, but the point is that they'll do these things and get through them just like they've gotten through everything else: together.

Quinn hears the door slide open and hears clicking that could only be associated with a pair of Kurt's shoes. She doesn't pull away from Santana though, not even when she hears a gasp, because Quinn finally feels like the ache in her heart is dwindling and cold from her body is leaving. She doesn't pull away because Santana is warm and whole and comforting, and it's what Quinn wants, it's what she's always needed.

Kurt comes through the door and immediately shields his eyes in surprise (when he notices what exactly is going on).

"Oh my God, no! I just started feeling safe again!"

Concern over writing hiatus: Honestly, I feel a little drained from all of these fanfics I've been writing and I'd like to update all the fics I've started (and have yet to finish), ya know?

Addressing my drinking/writing as of late: I had someone very close to me pass away exactly one year ago, hence the drinking. It's not common and it just makes it easier to write how I'm feeling (right now). It lets me access all the sadness, yo.

To anyone who actually reads these: Thank you! And as a present I have decided to give away a gift of sorts. Here it is: TO THE FIRST THREE PEOPLE TO REVIEW THIS CHAPTER OF THIS STORY, I WILL WRITE A ONE-SHOT OF YOUR CHOICE, PAIRING, PLOTLINE, ETC. MY ONLY GUIDELINES ARE: THE PAIRING MUST COME FROM GLEE, ONCE UPON A TIME, OR GREY'S ANATOMY (because those are the only fandoms I have ever really written for). ALSO, YOU MUST LIST YOUR CRITERIA (plot, pairing, fandom, etc.) IN YOUR REVIEW. TO THOSE THAT CATCH THIS (and care), GOOD LUCK!

I have an idea and I need opinions: I want to write an AU story where Quinn/Santana meet when Quinn is married (to Finn) and they start a relationship and such. I need help deciding if this is a good idea/whether people will be interested.