A/N: Here's day 2, and here is a nice little fluffish thing. Fun fact: fluff is always a little hard for me to do cause I blush too much and its a problem.

Day 2: Comfort/Fluff

Rating: T (Cause there's curse words and only teens can read the curse words)

Summary: Shopping for prom is something that Quinn had been looking forward to for awhile, but why does the mattress store across the way seem like a better time? (Literally I've only done two summaries so far and they're getting worse)

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Quinn slumped into the overly soft pink chair in the dress shop as she eyed the stores outside the window. It was sad really. The thought of prom had been exciting to Quinn since the day she turned five, and yet here she was staring out the window at the mall on the worst day of her life.

"What about this one," Rachel galloped out of the dressing room and spun in a circle. She stopped to face Quinn, but unfortunately the blonde's eyes were elsewhere, "Quinn. Quinn!"

Quinn jumped, "What?!"

"Where are you right now?" Rachel sat next to Quinn, now in full mom-mode.

"I'm just," Quinn tried to find her words, "I don't want to go to prom."

Rachel's eyes went wide, "You can't be serious."

"I'm serious," Quinn nodded.

"But prom's all you've been talking about for weeks," Rachel paused then smiled, "Is this about Puck?"

"It's not about Puck!" Quinn snapped but immediately felt bad. It wasn't Rachel's fault that she was having a bad day. Well, technically it was but she promised to get over it. It shouldn't be this hard not to snap at the short brunette, "It's not about Puck."

"I know," Rachel patted Quinn hands, "How about you go walk around for awhile. I'll pick out a few dresses for us to try on and call you to come back in like twenty minutes. Just don't go too far, okay?"

Quinn nodded her head and got up to leave. Maybe Rachel had an idea, she should go walk around and chill out. They should be having fun, not whatever this was.

Quinn walked out of the shop and looked at the store across from her. It was a mattress store with an array of mattresses beyond the eye could see. She didn't have any place to go, so she shrugged her shoulders and walked into the store.

She didn't even remember the last time she had been in a mattress store if she ever had. There was mattresses of all kinds. Small, large, firm, bouncy. Quinn took the time to test them all, putting pressure on all of them with both of her hands.

She stopped at a king sized bed that seemed like it hadn't been touched all day. Quinn assumed that it was tough as wood since the bedding was still crisp, but as she put pressure on it, it formed with her hands. It was super soft, but not too soft and happened to be the nicest bed in the whole store.

She looked around for anyone, but this side of the store seemed deserted though it wasn't the end of the store or anything. It was more like the middle.

It took a bit of encouragement, but she ended up crawling into the middle of the bed, laying face up at the ceiling.

Now the bed felt better than it did before. It was like one of those tempurpedic beds but like fifteen times softer. Quinn couldn't think of any specific words for it other than, well, fluffy. It was like sleeping on a firm fluff ball. If that makes any sense.

Quinn involuntarily closed her eyes and gave the biggest exhale of her life. How could this mattress be the biggest comfort of her day?

"Um, excuse me?" A voice, a very annoyed voice, broke through Quinn relaxation for the day.

Quinn peaked her eye open to see a girl about her age with long dark hair that suited her olive skin. She wore the standard attire for someone who would work there and by the way her arms were crossed and her face was contorted, she didn't seem too happy to see Quinn, "Yes?"

"You can't, like, sleep here," the girl said motioning to the bed.

"Why not?"

"You just can't," the girl looked away for a while before saying, "People don't like to buy things that other people have touched and shit."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. Obviously this girl wasn't a regular everyday mattress employee, "It's free advertising."

"We don't need free advertising."

"But it's free."

The girl sighed, "Whatever. Just don't stay too long. My boss isn't so lenient."

The girl walked away and Quinn giggled.

Soon twenty minutes passed by. Well actually more than twenty minutes. Quinn could tell that it was by the way her phone kept buzzing over and over. It may have been rude for her to intentionally ignore Rachel, but comfort came before "friends" and for some unknown reason that was Quinn's motto for that evening.

She opened her eyes again, this time because she heard a pair of foot steps stop next to the bed. It was the girl again, looking just as annoyed as she was before, and it made the corners of Quinn's lips turn up, "Yes?"

"You're still here," the girl observed, "Why?"

"I'm tired," Quinn closed her eyes again, "And this bed is too comfy."

"Do you want to buy it or something?"

"No," Quinn almost laughed, "I don't have money to buy a mattress."

"Right," the girl paused before saying, "I have a customer."

Quinn opened her eyes to watch the girl walk away and wondered if there was any implication that she was going to come back.

Quinn lost any of sign of time and Rachel stopped calling her phone. Also the girl never came back so she assumed that maybe it was okay for you to sleep on the beds. Even if it made people not want to buy it. Even if she wasn't going to buy it herself.

"Yo," a voice brought her eyes open to the mattress girl. Quinn smiled, "My boss told me to kick you out."

"Are you going to?" Quinn sat up but scooted until her back hit the pillows at the end of the bed.

"He also told me to do inventory on the mattresses," the girl folded her arms, "You can stay though."

"Thanks, um," Quinn really wanted to know her name. Not because there was a specific need but because the girl was cool enough not to kick her out.

"Santana," the girl-Santana said cooly, "Why are you hanging out by yourself at a mattress store?"

"I'm not by myself," Santana squinted her eyes and looked around, so Quinn explained, "You're talking to me."

"Right," Santana smiled but shook her head, "But seriously, do you do this often?"

"No, not really."

"So you just decided to hang out here?"

"Yep."

"By yourself?"

"Technically."

"What? Are you having boy problems or something?" Santana pulled out of thin air and it surprised Quinn because she was having boy problems but she couldn't be making it that obvious. It also made her sad all of a sudden and she looked down to the mattress under her to try to hide it this time.

"Wait right here," Santana said as she walked away almost like Quinn was going to leave anytime.

A few seconds later, she came back and tossed a pillow into Quinn's face. Quinn barely caught it without it hitting her square in the jaw and she looked up to Santana for an explanation, "It's our special 'I just broke up with my boyfriend and other boyish problems' pillow. Guaranteed stress reliever."

"Will it relieve the stress of my boyfriend breaking up with me to go to prom with my best friend and my second choice blowing me off because he wanted to go out with Lauren friccin Zizes?"

"I don't know who that is."

"I know," Quinn slammed her face into the pillow which cushioned the blow. It was working already.

"Look, I honestly don't know if that pillow relieves boy stress but what I do know is that on my toughest days that pillow's the softest."

Quinn pulled her head from off the pillow, "Do you not have boy stress?"

"Not especially."

"How could you not?" Not that she was saying that all boys created stress, but someone who looked as visually stunning as Santana should have enough boys under her belt to conjure up enough of it.

"Well it's not boy stress," Quinn didn't seem to get it so Santana clarified, "I have girl stress. Like when you date girls. Cause I don't date guys."

"Oh," Quinn analyzed this. She suspected that she was supposed to feel conflicted about this topic like her parents had taught her to be but she mostly felt jealous of the girl, "Must be fun."

"It's not, girls are horrible," Santana sat on the edge of the bed, "Now here's what I've learned from the glorious amounts of chick flicks that I may or may not have been forced to watch. You need to let out your feelings. Talking them out with a stranger might help or something."

She then pointed to herself, "And I happen to be a stranger. So tell me your problems, get it out of your system, and leave before I have to kick you out."

Quinn didn't have to consider this before nodding, "Let's say you have a boyfriend, who isn't exactly what you wanted in a boyfriend, but he was good enough for the moment."

"I'm trying to imagine this but it's hard," Santana commented.

"Then you find out later on that he wants to go all the way with you. Like all the way all the way, and you just can't picture that happening and it kind of makes you gag thinking about it."

Santana put on a thinking face that almost looked like she was going to say something but didn't. So Quinn continued.

"Then, once you're honest about it he breaks up with you, before prom. Which is the biggest night of your entire high school existence, and asks out your best friend to the damn thing. And she says yes. And you have to be cool about it. Cause she's your best friend."

"She sounds more like a bitch than a friend."

"Well, yeah, but she's Rachel and, I don't know but she's like-"

"Keep going with the story."

"Right. Then you ask your ex, which goes against everything that you believe in, to go to prom with you and you know what he says?"

Santana shakes her head no.

"He says 'Can't go. Busy. Me and Zizes are gonna hit up the prom together so it's like a no-go with the us thing for now,' " Quinn says in her best impression of her ex-boyfriend.

"What an asshole," Santana played along.

"I know right!" Quinn threw her hands up, "Now you're at the mall with your supposed best friend buying prom dresses so that she can go to the prom with your now ex boyfriend while you go alone. Like a loser."

"Wow," Santana said and it disappointed Quinn that she didn't have more to say. Santana must have picked up on it cause she then said, "Everyone you hang out around seem to be jerk-offs."

Quinn honestly wanted something in the form of advice but she supposed that this would do, "It sure looks that way."

"I know!" Santana said with less enthusiasm than any person in the history of saying those words, "Just don't go to the prom."

"But I have to go! I'm going to win prom queen." Quinn whined. She wanted some quality advice and this is what she got?

"Enough people to vote for your queening but not anyone to take you to prom," Santana said more to herself, "Why do you think you were too grossed out to sleep with your ex?"

That came out of nowhere and the fact that she had picked up on that part concerned Quinn, "I don't know."

"Was he gross?" Santana asked and Quinn denied being that Finn, her now ex, had a charm to him, "So he wasn't ugly?"

"Nope. I would never date someone ugly," and though there was different meanings to the word ugly, Quinn had a thing for being a attracted to people with certain qualities that made them the opposites of such thing.

"Hmm," Santana smirked, "Maybe your kind of gay?"

"I'm not gay."

"I said kind of."

"Well I'm kind of straight for your information."

"Kind of?"

Quinn blushed. Kind of was correct. He was only kind of straight, "Shouldn't you be working or something."

"Or something," Santana gestured around, "It's actually closing time."

Quinn's eyebrows rose. She hadn't realized that she had been in here for so long, "Wow I should probably leave."

"That's what I been trying to make you do," Santana said in good nature.

Quinn scooted off the bed but turned back to the still sitting Santana, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go for it," Santana smiled.

"Will you go to prom with me?" Quinn knew that it was a weird request but by the way Santana failed over and over at trying to hide her smile made her feel better for asking.

"I don't even know your name, Blondie."

"It's Quinn," She folded her hands in back of her, "So will you? Like go to my prom with me? I know a lot of things go into things and technically we don't know each other well but we could learn and I'll get a corsage and limo and stuff or whatever guys get for their dates and-"

"And yeah, I'll go with you," Santana interrupted her and Quinn felt like kissing the girl on the face but opted to standing awkwardly instead, "Just promise that you'll come here everyday until prom and make my boss really annoyed and stuff."

"I promise. I promise," Quinn started to back away, "I should probably get going now."

"Yep, see yah," Santana watched as the girl made little to no movements to leave.

"I'll come tomorrow and stuff," Quinn clarified.

"That's the plan," Santana nodded.

"Thanks so much for going with me," Quinn said as she almost bumped into a bed, "What's everyone gonna say once I show up with someone like you on my arm?"

"Who knows," Santana watched as Quinn actually came into contact with a bed this time, making it turning it off its bed post.

"It's really great that you're doing this," Quinn said as she moved the bed to its correct position.

"Seriously, Quinn. We're closing," Santana said in all seriousness and Quinn nodded her head before giving a last wave and doing a quick walk out of the store.

Quinn slowed down once she got to the parking lot and yanked her keys out of her pocket. Maybe the prom won't be as horrible as she thought.

She walked a few steps before stopping, realizing that she had the car keys the whole time. So where the heck did Rachel go?