A/N: Thanks to everyone still reviewing! BAHAHA yes, I thought of "THAT IS MAHOGANY!" too. Such a flawless THG moment.

Also, I've never seen the movie Wild Child, so any resemblance is pure coincidence.

Chapter 20

(OK, I skipped 19, because FF automatically numbers them.. So uhh. Yeah.)

I didn't realize how lonely the drive up from Lima was, especially after the way that Rachel and Brittany could make sound reverberate and intensify when locked in a car. Five hours is not an easy stint, especially with nothing better than your iPod and occasional unsafe texting to get you through. By the time I pulled into Atherton, the sun was setting on Sunday night, and I was irritable and exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, sit down with a good Cosmo, maybe sip on some wine (not likely, but hey, a girl can dream) and fall asleep to the new Nicki Minaj album. It's weird, I know, but I think that chick's pretty fly, and Brittany made me buy a few of her songs on iTunes, so what can I say?

I grabbed my overnight bag and the few shopping bags I'd acquired from the Lima mall earlier, and after parking my car, I began the ascent back upstairs to my dorm room. It had been a long weekend, and though I couldn't deny that I missed Brittany, sometimes so much it hurt, it still took a lot of energy to deal with her 24/7. I had never really realized that before now, the first separation we'd ever been in since we were four, but damn, that girl is just.. Always going. Why isn't she ever tired? It's unnatural.

I jiggled the handle to the dorm room and then pushed it open with my shoulder, trying hard not to let it slap against the opposite wall. No luck. I winced, waiting for Quinn's signature bitch about slamming the door around to sound off. It didn't, though, and so I thought I was in luck after all - she might be gone doing something and I avoided her hearing that particular little blunder.

I realized how much of a fool I was to hope for that, because, let's face it, it was like 8 o'clock on a Sunday night, where the hell else is Quinn going to be, besides sitting in our room studying? I noticed first the way her eyes slid up to me, the way that they were cold, but something about the color of them made them seem hot anyway. I offered her a blasé smile, dumping my bags on my bed unceremoniously.

Quinn sighed, and I could sense her winding up for a lecture on me living out of bags again. No, seriously, I could practically hear her asking me, did you even wash any of those clothes you wore while you were gone? No? So what, you just repacked them and brought them back? Picturing the horror on her face when she realized that that little assumption was true made me almost want to let her go on the tirade. Almost.

"I got you something!" I told her with a smile, and it stopped whatever sermon she was about to serve.

"Really? What is it?" Trust Quinn not to get all bashful and aww-you-shouldn't-have. That's okay, we were a lot alike in that regard.

"It's right up your alley, Blondie," I told her with a smirk. I began digging around the bags I'd gotten from the mall, until I finally found the brown paper sack I'd stuffed inside the one that housed my brand new pair of jeans and sexy black pumps.

"I didn't have time to wrap it," I warned her.

Quinn's eyebrow winged upwards. "Santana, you don't know how to wrap stuff."

I shrugged, but couldn't contain the smile that wanted to explode off my face as she delicately held the brown paper sack.

She pulled out a clear glass skull that was about the size of a grapefruit. She frowned at it, turning it around and around, studying it. She noticed that it was full of clear liquid. "What's in this?" She asked, her tone appraising.

I smiled. "Vodka."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Oh, so you mean this is a gift for you."

I laughed, shrugging. "I saw it and thought of you, what can I say?"

Quinn smirked, and I could tell she was trying not to fully smile at me. "It doesn't surprise me that even when you're trying to do something nice for someone, there's still something in it for you."

I scowled at her, because her words stung, even though I knew she wasn't being entirely serious. Wait, was she?

Quinn was still eyeing the glass skull, running her fingers over the smooth ridges that made up the cheekbones and, ew, the nose hole. "What, did you spend your whole weekend locked up in a liquor store?"

I turned away from her, picking through the spilled contents of my mall trip. "Uh, no." I didn't realize I was pouting, but I guess she did, because she snuck up behind me and gave me a quick hug with her arms wrapped around my midsection. The sudden contact stilled the breath in my lungs and had my whole body heat up like a flare.

"Thank you," She said quietly, nuzzled into the crook of my neck. I nodded dumbly, because my throat had a giant knot in it and I thought I was going to hyperventilate at any moment.

When Quinn stepped away I remembered how to breathe, so I let out a ragged breath and then continued picking through my new clothes. I separated them into piles of tops and bottoms and shoes, and then finally threaded through the jewelry.

Quinn pretended not to be too interested in what I got, but she's a natural girl - like me - and she can't resist the lure of new clothes. I just smiled at her knowingly when she casually sat down on my bed and began to examine the slacks I'd bought, running her fingers over the material.

"That shirt is so cute," She commented on one that was a satiny lavender. It really wasn't my usual thing - I tend to stick with jewel tones, like ruby, emerald, and sapphire - but it had been on sale, probably because the color was more for spring. I studied it, sliding my eyes from it to her, and then shrugged.

"Take it," I said, picking at it with a couple fingers and flicking it her way.

Quinn glanced down at the shirt, now sitting in her lap. "All right, I'm not above accepting charity," She said airily, holding the shirt up in front of her speculatively.

I grinned, because she was so amusing even when she was trying to sound superior. I'd let her have all the clothes I bought just to keep that smile on her face. Well, except for maybe.. Well, not the shoes. Those were just too gorgeous. But any of the clothes, clothes? Hell yeah.

"Want me to model anything for you?" I asked her with a lewd smirk. Quinn's eyes raked up to mine and I tensed, my face flooding with color. I'd forgotten, for a millisecond, that we were trying to pretend like those two nights had never happened. Shit.

Quinn's eyebrows rose so high on her forehead I wondered if they were going to disappear into her hairline, and I just stood there, grasping a pair of heels awkwardly. "Uhh.. Hmm." I cleared my throat, and then turned around, shoving clothes back inside their plastic bags. "Let's just pretend I didn't just thrust a whole frickin' shoe store into my mouth, okay?" My cheeks were burning. I've never apologized for trying to be sexy before, but, well, Quinn had that effect on me - always making me feel like an idiot, and the things that came naturally to me just seemed somehow awkward and unnatural sometimes. God.

She let a small smile spread on her face, which just made me blush harder. I scowled, irritated at my own stupidity, and then turned without saying anything and stomped into the bathroom. Shedding clothes, I decided to take a scalding hot shower, and I prayed that she'd be asleep by the time I got out.

My skin felt raw and tender by the time I finally turned off the nozzles, when the water was starting to run cold - something that had never happened before, because Atherton has, like, giant, endless water heaters - and wrapped in a fluffy white towel, I gritted my teeth and took a huge breath. The bathroom was full of steam, so much so that even the bright light seemed dim and mellow against the flashy marble tile. I clutched at the doorknob, glossy with sweat, and turned it, letting it swing open and send in a huge gust of cooler air. The sudden temperature change had goosebumps raising on my skin, and I stepped back into the room, avoiding looking at Quinn's side of it.

I immediately crouched down and slid open my underwear drawer, looping my fingers through a pair of lacy panties, when I sensed, rather than felt, Quinn ghosting behind me. I stood up quickly, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck and down my back rising, probably from Quinn's body heat. I went to turn around and face her, but she pressed her palm against my shoulder and another one against my hip, stilling my movements. I dropped the underwear I'd just retrieved and released a quavery breath.

I swallowed thickly, because just the slight pressure of her soft hands against me, even through a thick towel, was enough to make my insides clench and my heart race. I could sense that inevitable heat begin at the core of me and then spread out, like lava, making my skin burn and my nerves jolt and jerk in time to my heartbeat.

Quinn slid her fingers along the seam of the towel where it was secured beneath the juncture of my arms, and with a firm tug, jerked it away from my body. It fell to the ground and tangled at my feet, leaving me utterly exposed. My skin immediately erupted in a hot flash of goosebumps, where the air met skin that wasn't entirely dry, and my mouth worked hard to produce some kind of noise - a word, a sound, anything - but all that came out was a strangled sob of breath as Quinn pressed her lips against my shoulder.

She drug her mouth over the skin there that was achingly sensitive, but there was nothing gentle about her mouth or the firm press of her body against me. I registered, distantly, the feel of her breasts against my shoulder blades and the soft cotton panties against the curve of my butt, but mostly I was paying attention to the way one of her arms snaked around my midsection, pinning me to her, and the way she was biting and sucking at my shoulder and the bridge of my neck, running her tongue mercilessly over the little hot spots she was creating.

My mind was overwhelmed by sensation, and I couldn't keep up with my body - it was responding on its own, my stomach quivering and clenching, my nerves buzzing and pounding with desire and need that was white hot. I slammed my eyes shut and tried not to sway on my feet, assaulted by the overwhelming urge to slam myself against Quinn. I resisted the desire to grind into her like a cat in heat, but only barely.

Quinn was licking hotly along the nape of my neck, and I couldn't control the moan that wrenched from my lips. I've never been so soundly seduced or taken over before; I've never been so swiftly turned on, from the point of nothing to this - this raging heat and incessant quake at the center of me. My knees began to wobble, because I couldn't concentrate on standing any longer.

Quinn surprised me by supporting more of my weight on her arm, and instead of angling me towards the bed, like I figured she would, she used her body to turn me towards the computer desk. With a graceless shove, she nudged me up against it, effectively bending me over it. My nipples and breasts scraped against the unyielding, cold wood, my stomach jumping when it made contact with it, and I bit my lip, color flooding my cheeks when I realized she was literally going to fuck me like this - like a slutty secretary or something.

"Quinn," I muttered, and tried to turn around, because this utter lack of control I had was making me nervous and a little scared. It made my heart gallop in my chest even more violently. Quinn stilled my motions by gripping me tightly, hugging her body against mine, and now her free hand was running up and down the length of my spine, following the curve of my hip and then dragging over one butt cheek, to tease the sensitive flesh beneath, dragging her fingers along the soft skin along the arc of my inner thigh.

I gritted my teeth because my body was betraying me, my hips bucking against her in a feral demand for pressure. I could feel my center clenching hungrily, and wetness was dripping down my thighs. It was mingled shame and arousal that had me panting against the desk, using my arms to support myself as best I could, though Quinn's torso was still pressed firmly against mine and she was sucking, hard, along the flesh of my back. The feeling was somewhere between pleasure and pain, and it made me grunt and rock my hips rhythmically against nothing.

I realized, through the red fog that surrounded my brain, that this was Quinn's version of angry sex. I had had enough of it in the past to recognize it in its many forms, and it made my heart drop to comprehend that Quinn wasn't as unaffected as she seemed.

"Oh, god, fuck me," I groaned, as Quinn's mouth continued low along my spine, now biting at my lower back. I arched and squirmed against her, fingers scrabbling against the slick wood.

Quinn shocked a muted scream from my throat by unceremoniously shoving two fingers between my lips, without warning, plunging into my folds and with such force, I was sure she was trying to reach my belly button. I groaned, the instant sting smoothed over the sweltering echo of pleasure, and my breathing built into a ragged staccato as she wrenched in and out of me, each thrust harder and more brutal. She was leaning away from me, now, standing upright, using the whole of her body to slam her hand against me at an unforgiving pace.

I felt my body begin to shake entirely too soon, the orgasm ripping through me with an uncontrollable throb, tearing tattered moans from my lips, my forehead pressed hard against the desk. I felt my insides suck at Quinn's fingers greedily, clenching and pulsating, and almost obligingly she leaned even harder into me, going deeper than I thought possible. She continued pumping her wrist well into the aftershocks, only slowing down when my body went limp and loose.

I knew that my thighs were drenched, and I bit my lip as Quinn gently disengaged from me. My lower lips and insides felt swollen and tender, and I nearly yelped when I felt her press the discarded towel against it, doing her best to mop up the mess that she could. All I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears and my own heart slamming into my ribcage.

I felt weak and, strangely, used, though I knew that technically Quinn derived no physical satisfaction from what had just happened. That didn't change the principle of the act - that Quinn had thoroughly dominated me, and I realized with a start that the entire act had, from beginning to end, happened without her kissing me on the lips once. Just thinking about it had me scrunching my face up in a nameless shame.

I didn't think I could bear looking at her, so I was grateful when she gently pulled at my hips and, in a fluid motion, helped me slide into bed. The blankets were soft and cool, and they soothed my hot, over stimulated skin.

I was mildly surprised when Quinn clicked off the bedside lamp and then tucked underneath the blankets as well. She was wearing only a spaghetti strap top and underwear, but I was acutely aware of my nakedness. I felt awkward and shy, like I didn't know how to lay in bed with her.

She solved that problem by sliding her body next to mine, shifting one arm underneath my head and wrapping the other over my midsection, pulling me close to her. I hid my face against her neck and just breathed her in, my chest still pounding with uneven breaths and a rapid heartbeat.

Quinn shifted above me, moving slightly away to angle her face downwards. I had my eyes pressed tightly closed, even in the darkness, because I felt like I couldn't meet her gaze. So I was caught off guard when her lips pressed gently against my own, warm and soft. She then sprinkled light kisses all over my face, and each one drained the tension from beneath my cheeks and lips, allowing my features to fully relax.

To my own surprise, I felt my eyes fill up with tears, and I had to chew on my lip to keep them tightly behind my eyelids. I didn't understand it. I think mostly because I was completely drained, and the contrast of the way she'd been working into my body a moment before and the simple tenderness of her kisses now was slowly undoing me. My heart didn't know how to react. It was getting harder and harder for me to keep Quinn safely within the little brackets that let me keep my distance and still enjoy her.

"What's wrong?" Quinn murmured against my cheek, because she'd rubbed her lips against the wetness there and I realized that the tears were slowly leaking out of the corner of my eyes.

She pulled herself away, looking down at me, now with alarm. "Did I hurt you? Oh my god, Santana, I'm so sorry-"

I shook my head violently, denying it and the way her voice shook. I pressed my face closer to her, and sucked in an unsteady breath. "No, I'm okay," I whispered back.

"Then what's wrong? Santana?" Quinn was full of concern now, and she lifted her hand to drag the pad of her thumb over my face, wiping at the flow that dribbled down my cheekbones.

Her touch was so soft and gentle, and it made me choke on a sob. "Nothing. Please, just nothing." I lifted my hand to spread my palm against her cheek and I brought her face closer to mine, to press my lips against hers delicately. I held her against me for a moment, and I felt her melt into the kiss, though her thumb was rubbing against my face slowly.

My tears dried up, and with a thick swallow I banished the rest of them. I pulled away from her and then nuzzled my face into the crook of her shoulder, taking deep breaths. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest loudly.

Almost reluctantly, Quinn draped her arm around me again, and she lowered her own head to lay on the pillow. She rested her chin against the top of my head briefly, before she shifted and then pressed her forehead against mine. I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, and finally opened my eyes. Hers were searching mine, and the look on her face made me have to fight down the urge to curl into a ball and bawl my heart out.

Quinn shifted her face and pressed one last, glancing kiss against my lips. Her eyes stayed open, and so did mine, and the sensation made it feel like the world stopped spinning for a moment.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, so softly I wasn't sure I'd actually said the words.

"No," Quinn said, shaking her head slowly, and I could feel our foreheads slide against one another.

I didn't understand her denial. I was sorry - sorry for whatever I had done that had put those emotions in her, the ones that could only find their way out by having sex with me the way she had. I opened my mouth to try to explain, but Quinn shushed me.

"Just go to sleep, Santana," She murmured, her breath puffing against my lips and making them tingle. She began stroking my hair softly, and the firm press of her fingers against my scalp made me instantly drowsy. My lids dropped heavily and my breathing immediately evened out.

I was riding in the space between wakefulness and dreaming for what felt like hours. Quinn's breathing stayed steady, and her fingers kept massaging into my hair, drawing invisible patterns against my skull. I knew I was a heartbeat away from sleep.

"One day, you're going to have to choose." I heard it as if through a fog, and I wasn't sure if Quinn had actually whispered it or if it was part of a dream. "Soon." I don't know if I imagined it, but I felt like I could smell the moist salt of her tears, and dimly, I thought I tasted the warmth of one against my lips.

xxxxx

A/N: I know, so, so short.. And also maybe shameless smut, but I'm not sorry. :P

If anybody's interested, I started a Brittana fic too. It's called "Dark Side."