Santana was sitting quietly observing the deserted park in front of her when she felt someone gently wrap their hands around her eyes. "You know that's a lot less surprising when we've arranged to meet here," She laughed, her eyes falling on her pouting girlfriend as she moved over to let Rachel sit down, "Also, I heard you singing to yourself."

Rachel crossed her arms, her pout threatening to turn into a smile, "Perhaps I was simply working on my own personal theme music."

Santana laughed as she shifted closer to Rachel, their legs bumping together as she handed Rachel one of the two coffees she had been keeping by her feet. Taking pleasure in the way the other girl's eyes lit up, she took a sip of her own drink.

"Mm mm…." Rachel sighed, almost to herself as she gulped down her first sip. It never failed to surprise her the tiny ways in which Santana would make her feel like the most important person in the world; leaving little post-it notes on her books, letting her choose the flavour of popcorn at the cinema, or going out of her way to pick up her favourite cup of coffee.

"Do you want me to leave and give you two a minute alone?" Gesturing between Rachel and her cup, Santana raised an eyebrow, "I'm starting to think I shouldn't give you this cookie." Brandishing the biscuit, she chuckled at the eager grin thrown her way, letting out a dramatic sigh she passed it to Rachel, "You only want me for my incredible taste in snacks."

Shrugging playfully, Rachel pretended to think about it as she snapped the cookie in two and passed half back to Santana, "It's true; you've discovered my one weakness." As she nibbled on her snack, Rachel giggled at the gentle shove she received. "How was your day anyway?"

"By that, I'm assuming you mean how was my first day as an official Troubletone?"

Looking down to the ground, Rachel shrugged, "You know I fully support your decision to transfer to Shelby's new choir. She is, after all, a nationally ranked show choir director with a wealth of knowledge and experience-"

"Rach..." Reaching out to take the smaller girl's hand, Santana didn't miss the sad smile cross her girlfriend's normally cheerful features as she dragged her gaze from the grass.

"We're not going to get to sing together," Rachel muttered eventually, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks as she fidgeted in her seat, "I mean…I know that, that we haven't told anyone about us, and I know that it's not as though if you had stayed in New Directions we would be stealing all the duets, and…" With a defeated sigh she shook her head, "It just would have been nice. I know there's still a chance that with Regionals coming up and the fact that neither choir has enough members that we mightget a chance but… It's not the same."

Santana felt a pang of guilt and, biting her lip, she wished she hadn't eaten her cookie in two bites. She could have used the distraction right about now. Settling for fiddling with the cardboard cup in her hands instead, she nodded her head in agreement. The thing that sucked the most about defecting to The Troubletones wasn't just that she wouldn't get the chance to sing with Rachel, but that she had much fewer opportunities to hear the other girl sing; granted, Rachel still sang more in day to day life than anyone she had ever met, but it wasn't the same as seeing her day in, day out in the choir room. Seeing Rachel perform had always been an incredible thing, though Santana would never have admitted it before, and now she didn't even have the opportunity to be in the same room unless Mr Schue and Miss Corcoran decided to join the two groups.

"Sorry," Rachel whispered, "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Santana shook her head, "No, no you didn't. I want to sing with you too." Placing her now empty cup on the bench beside her, she smiled, "I want us to be able to sing, together,and we will. And we will be a truck load of awesome."

"Well, obviously." Leaning over, Rachel hesitated, her smile flickering as her eyes nervously glanced around the park. There was no one around, the less than stellar weather seemingly keeping most people away, but it was still a public place. She had to admit that it hurt not being about to touch or kiss her girlfriend whenever she wanted to, but she understood and she knew the decision to fly under the radar wasn't because Santana was ashamed of her. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't see Santana shift, the other girl smiling softly as she leaned over to close the gap, her lips meeting Rachel's. Pulling back slowly, Rachel couldn't hide the surprise on her face, "Santana?"

"That's actually what I want to talk to you about. I…I'm going to start telling people. About me. About us," Santana stated simply, her hands wring together nervously and betraying her calm exterior, a nervous habit she knew the other girl wouldn't miss. "I mean; I want to tell people. I-I thought maybe I'd start with Quinn? I think that…" Trailing off, Santana took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous tremble of her hands, "I think she knows, or at least suspects so…I mean, it'll be easier. Right?"

Rachel was pretty certain that Quinn was not the only one with her suspicious, and she kind of figured Santana knew that too, "I'm sure it'll be fine." Biting her lip, she had to ask, "Are you sure you're ready? I don't want you to think that you have to do this because of me-"

"I don't," Santana replied as she edged closer to her girlfriend, "I'm just…I'm sick of hiding who I am, and okay, maybe I'm not ready to start wearing flannel or spending my weekends at the golf course-"

"Those are horrible stereotypes."

Santana chuckled at her girlfriend's interruption, "But I am ready to at least start taking steps to come out; even if they are tiny, tiny steps. Gotta start somewhere, right?" Santana gave a casual shrug, "Besides I'm pretty sure Quinn will mostly be excited that she's been right all these years."

"I'm really, really proud of you." Rachel beamed, her hands clenching at her side as she resisted the urge to leap on top her girlfriend. Newfound confidence or not, she had a feeling that there were probably still laws against the kind of things she wanted to do to her girlfriend right now in the middle of the park. She didn't have time to let her mind wander down that particularly dirty road though, as seconds later she felt Santana's arms wrap around her as she was pulled into a tight hug, her girlfriend's lips ghosting across the side of her neck. "Santana…" Rachel whispered, her arms hanging limply at her side in shock.

Santana laughed, hiding her huge smile against Rachel's shoulder. A beat passed before she added, "Hugs are usually, a two way thing."

Rachel grinned as she wrapped her arms around Santana and giggled. "So demanding."

The Fabray house had always been an imposing place, largely due to the overbearing presence of Quinn's father, but even with the knowledge that he no longer lived there, Santana still felt overwhelmed. She knew deep down, of course, that the feeling was nothing to do with the damn house and everything to do with the reason she was standing outside Quinn's front door. She could barely believe what she was about to do - to finally do, anyway - and lifting a shaking hand to knock on the large oak door, Santana was surprised to find herself smiling. Even with her legs literally shaking underneath her and a swarm of butterflies ripping around her stomach, she still actually felt good about coming out to Quinn.

"Hey."

Lifting her head from where she had been staring at the doormat, Santana returned the bright smile she was greeted with, "Hey yourself." Following Quinn into the house she casually tossed her jacket over the banister, her smile widening at the familiar gesture.

"Did you bring the movies?" Quinn asked as she flopped down onto the large sofa in the front room and kicked her feet up to rest on the coffee table in front.

Santana grinned as she pulled a handful of DVD's from her bag and tossed them on the table, "All your favourites." Casting her bag to one side, she followed Quinn's example and sank down into the sofa. She had to admit that Russell Fabray might have been an asshole, but the man knew his furniture. "Did you order the pizza?"

Quinn hummed in response as she leant forward and began sorting through the collection, "Thirty minutes or less." Grabbing a case that caught her eye, Quinn didn't bother to get Santana's approval as she hopped up and loaded the disc. She had to admit she had been expecting at least a little bit of an argument, in fact she had almost been looking forward to their banter over who got to pick first, so when she slid back into her seat, she shot her friend a concerned look, "You're not even going to try and stop me from making you watch The Book of Eli again?"

Santana hesitated. Her eyes drifting from where the movie had already begun to play, she weighed her options. She thought about making some kind of delayed quip, something obvious about Quinn and her taste in movies, but with all her nerves, her wit seemed to have failed. In fact, the only quips she could think to make involved Mila Kunis and a lot of NC-17 thoughts that Quinn did not need to hear.

"Santana?" Quinn asked, shifting in her seat to face her friend, legs tucked underneath her, "Are you okay?"

Almost on reflex, Santana scoffed and turned her head away from Quinn's concerned stare, the lie falling from her mouth before she could even think about it, "Fine. Why would-" Stopping herself short, Santana closed her eyes. She didn't even know why she felt the need to brush off the other girl's concern; it just came as second nature to deflect anything that might involve her having to talk about her feelings.

Quinn frowned as she watched Santana battling with herself. She felt her breath catch in her chest as she wondered if her friend was about to do what she been waiting for her to do for the past…Well, she'd lost count of the years. Shuffling closer to Santana, she reached out to take one of the other girl's hands. Threading their fingers together, she waited patiently. Even if she had been a hundred per cent sure about what Santana was trying to say, she knew that Santana need to be the one to say it, and in her own time.

"I need to tell you something." Santana said quietly, her eyes flickering open but staying glued to the coffee table. She didn't know why it was so hard, after all, she had all but joked about it with Rachel earlier. Taking a deep breath Santana fought to meet Quinn's eye. Her head was full of the million different speeches she had planned; the witty jokes and moving impassioned words, and yet none of them felt right.

Squeezing the other girl's hand, Quinn held her breath.

A few seconds passed before Santana finally managed to look at Quinn, her eyes a mixture of fear and determination, "I'm gay."

Hearing the two words Quinn froze, her jaw dropping at the confession. It took her a few seconds to recover, her mind a blur of emotions, and in those two seconds she saw Santana's defences spring into action. The other girl jolted suddenly, her hand twisting and pulling from the blonde's as she tried to free herself. She would have succeeded too, if Quinn hadn't snapped to her senses, "Wait, Santana…"

"Its fine," Santana exhaled, tears threatening to spill, "I-I should go I-"

"For fuck's sake," Quinn shouted, her booming voice echoing through the room and silencing Santana's protests. Taking advantage of her friend's shock, Quinn launched herself at the other girl, her hold on Santana's hand only breaking so she could wrap both her arms around her, her body half falling into Santana's lap as she hugged her tightly.

"You…you're not…you don't hate me?" Santana asked in surprise, her arms hanging at her sides as she felt Quinn's weight on top of her.

Quinn laughed in disbelief, "Of course I don't!" Pulling back to look at her friend, she found herself wiping tears from her cheek's, "I am so proud of you right now."

"You are?" Santana asked, her eyes lighting up. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest; the fear that had consumed her for those few, tense seconds following her confession beginning to slowly fade.

"More than you will ever know," Quinn answered honestly, her eyes sparkling as she grinned, "I-I know this wasn't easy for you and, thank you for telling me." Pausing, she hoped Santana realised how much it meant to her; the fact her friend trusted her with something so important meant the world to her, "I love you, you know that right?"

Santana found herself hesitating, waiting for some type of qualifier, a distinct – not like that – but it never came. She had just come out to Quinn Fabray, Quinn who was now basically sitting in her lap telling her she was proud of her and that she loved her. In the strange subdued beat that followed, Santana barely had to time to manage a strangled, "Damn it, Fabray," before bursting into tears, her arms reaching out to pull her friend into a bone-crushing hug. They stayed that way for a while, Santana clinging to Quinn as the blonde gently stroked her hair, her own tears dropping silently onto the girl's shoulder, "I love you too, you know?" Santana muttered as she eventually broke the embrace to wipe away the last of her tears, "Even if you make me cry like a bitch."

Sliding off of Santana's lap to sit on the couch, still comfortably snuggled into her friend's side, Quinn couldn't hide her curiosity, "You don't have to answer this, but…who else knows?"

"Well…Brittany obviously," She didn't miss the blonde's smug grin, and casting a sideways glance at the blonde they shared a knowing look. Santana faltered slightly, her unease showing as she continued, "And…and Rachel." A sudden flash of worry took over as she wondered if Quinn would be hurt that she had hidden such a big secret from her for so long and had ended up telling Rachel first.

"Rachel, huh?" Quinn mused, "Well…it makes sense I guess, with her Dads and everything and…" Trailing off she squinted her eyes as if debating something. A tiny grin creeping across her face, she turned suddenly, "Does that mean…so you and Rachel are together?"

Santana nodded curtly, not trusting herself with more than a simple, "Yes."

"Wow."

The one-word response wasn't exactly doing much to ease Santana's nerves, particularly since Quinn had taken to staring into space with an unreadable expression, "Is that…are you freaked out?"

Quinn chuckled, "Not as much as I thought I would be." Shifting to look up at Santana she continued, "And not because she's a girl, because she's…Rachel," As if cementing some kind of profound statement, she slowly repeated, "Rachel. Rachel Berry. And you, Santana. Santana Lopez."

"Oh god," Santana groaned as she palmed her hand against her forehead, "I broke you."

"I am not broken," Quinn argued, slapping Santana's hand away from her face, "I just….you're throwing a lot of information at me right here." Sitting up to cross her legs underneath her, the blonde mused, "Does she sing in her sleep?"

Santana froze. Eyebrows somewhere near her hairline, she slowly turned to Quinn in astonishment. "Seriously? I come out to you, I tell you I'm dating Rachel, and that is the only thing you can think about?"

"I've always wondered," Quinn said with a simple shrug, her expression shifting quickly as she held her hands up in a gesture of peace, "Not that I picture Rachel sleeping, or in bed."

"You better not," Santana growled, "Or I will ends you."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Santana's trademark abuse of the English language, Quinn reached over and grabbed the remote control from the table to pause the movie. "You can invite her over if you want? I could call Brittany; we can have a girl's night."

Santana shook her head, even though it was a tempting offer, "Actually…I was kind of hoping we could keep it just us two tonight. I've missed you." She tried to ignore the heat flooding her cheeks, and, trying to cover it with a playful grin, she added, "A little bit." Holding up her hand, she held her thumb and forefinger close together, "Just a bit."

"Dork." Quinn giggled, her hand slyly capturing the cushion next to her and using it to thwack Santana with, the other girl's indignant huff only making her laugh more. "I missed you too, you know. A little bit."

Santana shot Quinn a toothy smile as she wrestled the cushion from her friend's grasp, "Obviously." Leaning against the arm of the sofa, she tucked the cushion out of her friend's reach and safely away from any more stealth attacks. Her next retort was cut off by the sound of her phone chirping from her pocket.

"Rachel?"

Santana shook her head as she pulled the phone from her jeans, "It's probably my Mom." Swiping her finger across the screen, she grimaced.

"Is-Is everything okay?" Quinn asked, trying to keep the worry from her voice. Her mind was busy coming up with all kinds of horrible scenarios before she realised Santana had twisted her phone to show her the message. She recoiled back as her eyes took in the picture on the phone, "What the hell is that?"

"Food, or at least it's supposed to be," Santana tried to chuckle as she quickly tapped out a reply to her Mom, the corners of her mouth still turned down in disgust, "Good thing I snuck in some Breadstix earlier. No way Mom is eating that crap they serve at the hospital."

"So, she's sending you pictures?" Quinn mused, her eyebrows knitted together in a frown as she added, "Are you even allowed cell phones in hospitals?"

Santana smirked, "Like that's going to stop a Lopez." Sliding her phone back into her pocket she explained, "And before you go off ranting about it interfering with the machines, she doesn't actually use it that often. In fact, she pretty much only uses it to send me gross pictures of her food. I visited her a couple of days ago and saw the crap they called lunch, and now she's pretty much on a mission to find the least edible thing known to man."

"Hence sneaking in the Breadstix?" Quinn smiled at the thought of Santana smuggling in an array of things for her Mother; she had a strange feeling that her friend would take it as a challenge to get things past the doctors and nurses.

"Exactly," Santana grinned, her smile widening as she continued, "Although I won't get the chance to do it much more. Mom says she spoke to her doctor and she should get the go ahead to come home by the end of the week."

"That's great news."

Santana nodded. She had been trying not to get too excited about her Mom's potential release from the hospital, mostly because she was more caught up in a kind of nervous anticipation than anything else. After all, the hospital had been the beginning of her Mom's recovery and, for all its faults, it was a safe place. The unknown was still ahead of them.

"She's going to be okay," Quinn reassured, her gentle voice cutting through Santana's thoughts. She could see the worry spreading across her friend's face and it wasn't hard to read Taking one of Santana's hands in her own, she added, "And you know, if you need anything, I'm here for you."

"I know, the never-ending stream of voicemails and texts kind of solidified that." Santana quipped, the usual carefree snap behind her words spluttering and failing. Quinn, as well as Brittany, had both taken to calling her on a regular basis, and although they never overtly stated it, Santana knew it was their way of gently reminding her that she wasn't alone in any of this. She didn't want to shrug it off so casually, but as always her mouth was ahead of her brain.

Luckily for her, Quinn merely smiled and tightened her grip on Santana's hand.

"Thank you," Santana finally managed, her eyes drifting to the blonde, "Rachel said she'll come with me to pick my Mom up when we know what's happening and my Mom said she should stay the night. Maybe…you could come too if you want? And Britts? We could do girls night, like you wanted, and it'd be good to have you guys there. You know, in case- in case anything happens."

Quinn wanted to reassure Santana that nothing would happen, but even though she was positive it wouldn't, she knew Santana didn't need to hear any more empty words and promises. "Of course I'll be there."

Santana exhaled slowly, her hand trembling in Quinn's, "Thanks." Suddenly aware of the increasingly heavy atmosphere, and not wanting to dwell too much of the dark thoughts that tended to plague her when she spent any length of time worrying about her Mom, she tried to lighten the mood, "Although I will not be getting pizza from wherever the hell you've ordered from. Seriously, we better be getting this for free."

"You're kind of impatient." Quinn pointed out, even as she glared at the clock gracing the wall above the television.

"I'm kind of hungry," Santana corrected, in the same instance Quinn's stomach rumbled loudly, "And I'm not the only one." Pushing herself up from the couch, Santana stretched her arms above her head, letting the tension drain from her, "Snacks?" She didn't wait for Quinn to answer, instead choosing to dodge around the sofa and head to the kitchen.

Quinn stayed seated, her back arching against the sofa as she stretched, "Bring me some chips. No wait, pretzels. You know where they are."

Santana stomped back into the room a few minutes later and flopped back down in her previous seat. She tossed an almost empty bag of pretzels at Quinn with a pout but resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest and sulk, "You're out of Cheetos."

Shoving a handful of salty pretzels in her mouth and muffling the rest of her sentence, Quinn tilted her head back in the direction of the kitchen, "There's a whole bag in there."

Santana shook her head as she leant over and stole one of Quinn's pretzels, looking at the snack with contempt, "Empty."

"I knew I shouldn't have left Puck alone in the kitchen. That is the last time I have everyone over," Quinn narrowed her eyes. She knew for a fact that Puck was the only one who would have had the chance to raid her food supplies, and as she finished off what was left of what had been her favourite snack. she was already formulating ways to make him suffer. "Stupid group assignments."

"You're holding Glee meetings now?"

"Huh?" Snapping out of her increasingly cartoon based ideas of revenge, Quinn rolled her eyes, "Oh, yeah, Mr Schue's got us doing mash-ups again, so some of the guys came over to try and piece something together." Tossing the empty bag on the table, Quinn sighed, "It kind of sucks without you there, you know."

Santana scoffed.

"I'm serious," One hand gesturing wildly in Santana's direction, Quinn turned to her friend and curled her legs underneath herself, "Without you there, there isn't anyone to veto Mr Schue's awful song choices. The other day he genuinely suggested that we try and work out another Journey medley. If I have to hear Don't Stop Believing one more time, I swear to God I am going to make him eat that piano." She figured it would be best not to bring up the time she resorted to hiding Mr Schue's sheet music in her locker, "And I mean, normally Rachel does a pretty good job of taking control, but she's basically on strike, which is totally understandable, but without her to suggest other songs…we're kind of sinking."

"Because, none of you have ever heard any music before…"

"You know what I mean," Slapping Santana's arm, Quinn glared at the unimpressed girl. "Not to mention Brittany is refusing to work on any choreography in protest, none of us will speak to Finn or Artie, no-one's fighting over solos, and I'm pretty sure that everyone is so focused on all the drama that, apart from Rachel, they haven't given any time to the fact that we don't have enough members to compete."

"You didn't have enough members beforeI left," Santana pointed out, "How bad is your math?"

Quinn growled, shaking a loose fist at her friend she slumped back against the couch in defeat. She had been so sure that this year was going to be their year, the year they finally proved to everyone that they deserved the respect and recognition afforded to everyone else. It was their final year; she wanted it to count for something.

Taking pity on the crestfallen expression on Quinn's face Santana revealed, "I overheard Mr Schue and Miss Corcoran talking the other day. I'm pretty sure they want to merge The Troubletones and The New Directions together for competitions. We have more than enough members between us, plus some of the Cheerios Sugar managed to convince to join are actually pretty fucking awesome, s so we'd have a good chance of winning."

"And, you would be okay with that?" Quinn asked as she perked up, her hands clasped together as she held them to her chest almost in prayer.

Unknowingly echoing Quinn's earlier thoughts, Santana continued, "I want this year to count; I want usto count. So if that's the only way that we get to compete, then yeah, I guess I have to be." Pausing, Santana tried to collect her thoughts. She had a while to think about it, but it didn't mean that the thought of setting foot back in that choir room with her old choir was any easier, "I'm not saying I'm okay with everything that went down between me and everyone else, and I'm not saying I'm going to come back to The New Directions, but, I'm not about to let all that crap stand in the way of us taking home a big ass trophy."

"And a big ass cheque," Quinn added with a sly grin, "And a National title."

"Exactly," Santana agreed, already envisioning Rachel's face as she lifted the trophy they had missed out on last year, "Besides, we get three songs so that's one for you guys, one for us, and one horribly awkward collaboration. Plus I think I can deal with Tubbs the Clown and Wheels if it means I get to spend time with you and Britts again."

Brightening up at the idea, Quinn clapped her hands together, a cheeky grin crossing her features, "And Rachel, of course." She laughed at the blush that crept across her friend's features.

"Right," Santana fought back her smile as she fiddled nervously with her bracelet, "She was talking earlier about how she wants us to sing together and, I don't want to get her hopes up y'know? I-"

"Herhopes?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana corrected herself, "Okay, we don't want to get ourhopes up."

Quinn nodded in understanding. "Because it might not happen."

"There is so much that could go wrong." The list of things that crowded Santana's head only seemed to grow bigger every time she thought about what would happen if the collaboration went ahead. She could hear the anger seeping into her words, "And even if it does go right, that doesn't mean Rach and I will get to sing together anyway. It's not exactly like I can get up there with her and sing some sappy love song."

"So, maybe you're not there yet," Quinn stated thoughtfully as she placed a calming hand on Santana's shoulder. She hated seeing her friend so beat up over something she was striving to deal with; she had seen the fear in Santana's eyes right before she had come out to her and she knew beyond a question of doubt how hard she trying to be comfortable with her sexuality, "But you will be, and until you are, there's a whole heap of songs you could sing together. Surely one of the benefits of dating Rachel Berry has got to be that the girl knows every song ever written, right?"

"Right," Santana smiled, the faith her friend had in her calming her anger and reminding her of her own words earlier; tiny steps. She might not be ready to scream it from the rooftops, or parade across the stage singing her love for Rachel, but that didn't seem to matter so much now. She was happy, she was in love, and she had people who accepted her for who she was. The rest would come later. "Has anyone ever told you you're kind of awesome?"

"All the time," Quinn replied seriously. Hearing the doorbell chime, she grinned, "And since I'm so awesome…bring me pizza." She chuckled at the playful glare shot in her direction as Santana surprisingly sprung to her feet and headed to the door. She had been expecting her friend to argue with her, but leaning over the back of the couch, she could hear Santana arguing with the delivery boy instead. Quinn couldn't make out much of what was being said, but it wasn't long before Santana returned with a victorious smirk.

Dropping two boxes down onto the coffee table, Santana sunk back into her seat, "Thirty minutes or less my perfectly shaped ass." She opened the first box and carefully shoved it in Quinn's direction, "Also, seriously – extra, extra bacon?"

"With extra bacon," Quinn pointed out as she picked up a slice of her pizza, the cheese refusing to separate from the rest of the pie, "And extra melted cheese." She watched as Santana flipped open the second box and grabbed a slice, wasting no time in taking a huge bite. Mouth full, Santana moaned in pleasure and gave Quinn an appreciative thumbs up. "I will never understand your love of anchovies."

Santana's eyes widened as a million dirty jokes flooded her brain, and, choking back her laughter, she barely managed to swallow the rest of her mouthful. Earning a confused look from Quinn, she opted to gesture to the television, "Don't you want to finish the movie?"

Quinn nodded enthusiastically, and using the remote to restart the movie, she started on her second slice of pizza. She was only two bites in before she turned to eye Santana suspiciously.

"What?" Santana mumbled, her focus never drifting from the screen as she devoured her food.

"You only let me watch this because Mila Kunis is in it, don't you?"

Santana grinned as she leant back, "Like you only just figured that out."