Author's note: OKAY EVERYONE! finally. updates. I am so so so so so incredibly sorry to all of you who have been waiting for this. Thank you SO much for sticking it out...I hope the ending will be worth it! There will only be one more chapter left to this story...but it's a little longer than this one. I'm kind of freaking out about it, since this is the first faberry fic I've ever finished...so reviews would make my life. Seriously. Thank you again for reading, I'll go back and look at this again tomorrow but I'm so excited to post for you guys that I want to get it out before I go to sleep. Enjoy!

...

Quinn couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Santana so smug.

Despite her valiant attempts to wrench her arm away from the tall Latina, it had been to no avail. Santana was still marching down the sidewalk with such purpose that people were turning to stare…and all Quinn could do was continue to be dragged along like a small child.

"Santana, seriously, get OFF me!" Quinn hissed as they neared the other Cheerio's car.

"Not until you tell me exactly what's going on, Fabray," Santana finally halted her strut and Quinn smashed into the side of her with a grunt of frustration.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Quinn finally yanked her arm away and folder her arms crossly across her chest.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb. You and the midget. All up on each other in the bushes? They don't hide you as well as they did when you were five, Quinn."

At the mention of "all up on each other" Quinn's mouth had promptly fallen open. She'd done nothing to remedy the situation and so she proceeded to stand there and stare as Santana pulled out her keys.

"See?" Santana grinned and then pulled open Quinn's door. "Hop in blondie."

Quinn finally came back to life and started spluttering. "That's ridiculous. Whatever you think you saw, clearly, was not…anything…nothing, I don't know what you think you saw – "

"QUINN!" Santana cut Quinn's ramble short. "Get in the car. Now. I don't care about you and Berry. I mean, yes of course I care, but like…whatever. Although when I originally yanked you out of that restaurant I had every intention of telling Sylvester…but if you get in and just talk to me, maybe I'll reconsider. Now get. In. The car."

"WHAT?" Quinn yelped. "Don't even think about it, bi – "

"CALLING ME NAMES is not going to help your case, Q! Now get the hell in!" Santana slammed her hand on the roof of the car for emphasis.

And for once in her life, Quinn did what Santana asked her to do.

And promptly started crying all over again.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Santana rolled her eyes before swinging herself into the car and hitting the gas as fast as possible.

...

Rachel was very aware of the irony of the fact that she was hiding in her closet in her attempt to block out the rest of the world.

Haha, universe. Very funny.

She had also succumbed to the lure of the ice cream in the freezer and was half sobbing-half blubbering into the empty container. The spoon was now resting on a stuffed animals nose that she couldn't identify due to it being far too dark in the aforementioned closet.

She was so frustrated with herself for not being able to trust her instinct about Quinn simply because she wanted to be with her so badly.

She was angry for crying in front of her…again.

But most of all, she was furious with herself for only wanting one thing at that moment to make her feel better…and that thing was Quinn.

It only made Rachel cry harder when she came to this conclusion. The conclusion that had been lurking in her head even as she ran out of the restaurant and in the opposite direction of the the cheerleader.

It was all she wanted. All the time. She wanted Quinn to hold her. Take care of her again, despite the fact that she was the person who was hurting her so much most of the time. She wanted Quinn to tell her that she loved her.

And she had.

But Rachel had run anyway.

An extra loud sob that she couldn't hold back escaped her throat and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep her dads from coming in and asking what was wrong. She wasn't sure she could handle any more emotional conversations that night.

"Rachel?" her Daddy had evidently heard something and now seemed to have entered her room to investigate.

It took all Rachel's willpower to not throw open the door and launch herself into his arms, pleading with him to just make it better, but she succeeded and hesitated before clearing her throat.

"I'm…I'm in the closet!" she called, mentally reprimanding herself for how ridiculous it sounded.

"Um…okay? Why? Are you okay?" he suddenly sounded concerned.

"No, I'm fine, I was just looking for something," she called back. "I'll be down in a bit!"

"Okay…well if you need anything we'll be in the family room," he responded, sounding confused but more concerned for her mental stability than her emotional one.

"Great!" Rachel cheerfully replied before slumping back against the wall.

"…And Rachel?" her daddy called again. "You should really come out of there soon. It's not good for you…it must be awfully stuffy."

Rachel slapped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud. If only he knew.

...

Quinn had finally managed to stop crying and instead was now sniffling quietly in the passengers seat. Santana was driving in silence, the radio playing quietly between them.

"Baby got back…"

Quinn suddenly snorted and Santana's head whipped around, her eyebrows quirked.

"Yes? You making fun of my song choice?" she questioned, turning back to the road. "Cuz you shouldn't be."

"No, I was just thinking…a heart to heart with your would have a soundtrack about girls' butts," Quinn said, laughing again and looking out the window.

"You know me Q," Santana smirked, turning down a street Quinn was pretty sure went nowhere. "But seriously, what's going on?"

Quinn's mouth slammed shut and she struggled not to burst into tears again.

In the time since leaving the restaurant, she had gone from furious to defensive to defeated to finally almost thankful…but terrified all the same.

Yet despite all of this, she suddenly wanted to tell someone about everything going on in her head. These weird feelings that she didn't understand and made he feel like she was doing something wrong. And who better to talk to than someone who might actually understand what she was feeling? Quinn was pretty sure Santana fit that category perfectly.

And so she tried to speak again, but she couldn't. It didn't matter that she wasn't entirely sure of what she was going to say because she was suddenly physically incapable of opening her mouth. Santana gave her a sidelong glance but for once in her life seemed to understand.

"So…at least tell me this," Santana finally spoke. "Is it just her, or is it in general?"

Quinn's face started to heat up and hot tears filled her eyes. She pictured walking into the locker room every day at practice and trying not to stare. She thought about how much she hated the showers. She thought about how much more she cared about there being an attractive girl in a movie than there being an attractive guy. She remembered the summer everyone bought their first bikinis and how she'd suddenly felt unexplainably …uncomfortable and embarrassed when she saw everyone at Santana's big pool party. She had been so self conscious in her own modest two-piece and it didn't help that everyone seemed to have such amazing figures. She had tried to convince herself that she was just jealous, and that was partially it…but that didn't explain why when one of the particularly pretty girls pulled her into the pool she'd become so flustered that she'd choked on pool water and refused to do anything but sit on the edge for the rest of the afternoon.

Yeah okay.

"Remember…that pool party you threw in seventh grade?" Quinn asked Santana hesitantly, and then stopped again, not sure what she was going to say next. When there was silence from the other side of the car Quinn wanted to hit herself for being so vague. Of course she doesn't you idiot, she's thrown like eight-hundred million –

"The one where Kayla pulled you into the pool and you almost drowned? If that was the same one where Brittany wore the suit with the ducks all over it and still somehow managed to look hot, then yes," Santana replied as she turned down yet another random street.

Of course Santana hadn't forgotten that.

"Yes – that one," Quinn responded with a small smile before her nerves got the best of her again.

She really wished her mouth would stop doing that clamping-shut-of-its-own-according thing it seemed to keep enjoying.

"Rachel wasn't at that party…" Santana prompted.

"Right," Quinn managed to get out.

"Right." Santana responded quietly and Quinn almost turned to raise an eyebrow before Santana suddenly slammed on the breaks. "Let's go Q."

"What?" Quinn looked around, not recognizing anything. She suddenly had the irrational fear that Santana was going to kill her for admitting she was gay. Wait what. She had not just admitted that.

Nope, not at all.

At the very least she wouldn't put it past the cheerleader to jump out of the car and proclaim to the world Quinn's new found status of "queer."

Fabray. Stop rambling. You're turning into Rachel.

"Just follow me," Santana had somehow managed to already end up on Quinn's side of the car and was yanking her out of it.

"Ouch – what the hell!" Quinn tried to mutter as Santana pulled her towards a little store they had parked in front of. Quinn hadn't even noticed it at first it was so inconspicuous. She also finally realized they were in the town over from Lima – she recognized a jewelry store her mom used to frequent across the street.

The bell on the door clinked and Quinn winced as the two cheerleaders walked into the small building and Quinn looked around wearily.

And then she suddenly found herself in front of a small but outrageously colorful display of rainbow…everything.

"Only place within a 50 mile radius of Lima that has any sort of gay shit." Santana was inspecting her nails.

"Really?" Quinn asked as she knelt down without thinking to look at everything. She was weirdly in awe and she wasn't sure why.

"Well, the only one I've ever seen," Santana replied with a smirk. "Now pick something Blondie, I'm buying."

Quinn had officially lost count of the number of times Santana had surprised her in the last hour.

"Umm…" she looked up in confusion.

"Just do it. Pick something just for you," Santana clarified. "No one has to see it, it's just…for you. Reminds you your not alone and of who you are and shit. It's what I did that summer a week after the pool party. Cept I was in her with my mom so I kind of snitched it…I figure paying for yours makes up for it or something."

Quinn had the sudden urge to throw her arms around her friend's neck and hug her for all she was worth – but she held back, knowing Santana would probably unintentionally punch her from the sudden amount of compassion she'd be receiving.

"What'd you buy?" she asked instead.

"Socks," Santana snorted. "They had less of a selection to choose from back in seventh grade."

At that Quinn couldn't resist and burst out laughing, imagining a thirteen year old Santana walking around with rainbow socks hiding in her sneakers. Santana smacked her in the back of the head and Quinn went back to perusing the selection, giggling as she went.

Ten minutes later they left the store, Quinn clutching a thin rainbow ring on a chain in her hand.

"Just don't forget to take it off before you change in the locker rook," Santana warned as they set off again for Lima. "You should've heard the crap I got for rainbow socks."