A/N: Thanks for everyone's kind reviews and patience. These chapters are taking longer for me to finish because I'm spending a lot of time thinking things through and trying to stay true to character, and not disappoint anybody.

Oh and the songs they sing are here: .com/watch?v=Pu8KFlfzk3Y&ob=av2e

.com/watch?v=mdIIw2mSkTg

Put www dot youtube in front of those links.

Chapter 23

I smiled down at Quinn with a deviant smirk. She was pinned beneath me and I had both of her hands clutched together tightly in mine. It left us both a little helpless, but I still felt triumphant because I was on top of her and she was looking pretty ticked off about it.

"Santana, let me go," Quinn said slowly. It was hard to take her seriously with her hair spread out around her all crazy like, and I could tell for a fact that she was bothered by the warm pressure of my crotch against her, because her face was slowly blushing.

"Nope, not a chance," I gave her a little grin before I leaned down, trapping our tangled hands between us, and ran my lips over the side of her face.

We were on the floor of our dorm room, with books and notepads and pens scattered everywhere. I had already changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a white wife beater and some loose shorts, but Quinn was still partially dressed in her Atherton uniform – one of those crisp white button-ups and the plaid white and purple skirts. The look drove me crazy, which was her first mistake. The second one was acting all prude and stuck-up, something she's entirely too good at, but that creates in me a combination of desires to punch her and kiss her face off.

"Look, I have got to study," Quinn said in an even tone, though I could tell by the way her pulse hammered against my mouth that she was just faking it. My fingers clutched against her hands, however, in case she was trying to feign relaxation and then pull some kind of sneak attack on me. I ran my teeth against the taut skin of her neck, biting down gently, and I smirked into her when I felt her hips roll against me.

"I can quiz you," I muttered, and then sucked on her ear.

"Ah, oh my god," Quinn's voice was breathy and she gasped, and I felt a thrill of victory run through me.

She let me kiss and tease her neck for a while and didn't complain, but when it came time to move further south she suddenly sat up, which made me sprawl backwards unceremoniously.

I glared at her. "All right, Quinn, and for that—"

Quinn was eyeing me warily and she held her hands up in front of her to stop me. "Santana, I've already had to buy three new shirts because of you." She huffed, then rolled one of the sleeves up since it had lost its cuff shape. She smoothed a palm down her hair and in a second went from looking completely ruffled and disheveled to being sophisticated and put together. It made my mouth water.

"It's not my fault those shirts are a bitch to unbutton." I was glancing at the little dip in the material, where the first button was fixed directly above Quinn's bust. It made me feel slightly guilty to know that, just yesterday, I had torn one off of her because I didn't have the patience to unbutton them.

"Yeah, well, my dad isn't going to understand these weekly shirt charges to his credit card." Quinn rolled her eyes. She still looked tense and ready, as if she expected me to ignore her warning and just tackle her back to the ground.

I had half a mind to do it. "Okay, so take the shirt off, Goldilocks," I growled.

Quinn threw me an impatient look. "Santana. Give me an hour to study. Seriously, you're like an annoying oversexed boyfriend."

I huffed, and then launched myself up onto my feet. Quinn watched me with a paranoid look until I padded over to my bed and flopped down on it with a dramatic sigh.

She laughed, slightly, and then scooted over to rest her back against my bedframe. It offered me a good view down her shirt from where I was laying, and I could reach my hand out and play with her hair or rub the back of her neck if I wanted.

"Studying is a huge waste of time." I had already told Quinn that pretty much countless times, but she still kept studying. I felt like, with repetition, one day she'd get the picture and quit staring at textbooks for no reason.

"I already told you that I have a big test in algebra.. and I can't memorize equations like you do." Quinn's voice was slightly clipped, but it was just because she had picked up the textbook and was looking at it now.

I fiddled with my phone because I was bored, and I decided to give Quinn the hour that she asked for. It kinda hurt my pride every time Quinn compared me to a boy, which I think she understood and so she did it on purpose. It made me wonder if Quinn imagined she was manipulating me in some way. That line of thought was a little perturbing, though, because I didn't want to focus on it and what Quinn thought of me.

"Are you going to try out for a solo for show choir?" I asked her, suddenly.

Quinn glanced up and threw me a look from the side of her face. "Yeah. Aren't you?"

I shrugged. "Without having to compete with that gay garden gnome, Rachel Berry, I figure I probably have a shot at it." Our group was pretty good, but none of the girls were pretentious and attention starved like Rachel. The fact that it was an all-girl's group actually helped and hurt in a few different ways, because that meant there was more competition for certain vocal ranges but that most likely the set wouldn't focus on songs Quinn couldn't rightly sing.

"What song are you going to sing?" I asked her after a few moments.

Quinn's face shifted and I recognized that guarded look she put into place whenever she didn't want me to know what she was thinking or feeling. That had my interest perking up. I shifted, then laid my palm against the back of her neck.

"It's a surprise." Quinn said finally.

My eyebrows shot up. "What? For who?"

Quinn shrugged, her eyes planted firmly on her text book. "For you."

I glanced around the room, a little uneasy. "I was going to do a Winehouse number." I felt uncomfortable now. "Quinn, this isn't like.. this isn't like something Berry would do back at the glee club, is it?" I felt a little panicky. "I mean, we haven't turned into those people—"

Quinn huffed, her head snapping upwards, her eyes glaring straight ahead. "What, those people who refuse to talk to one another about their feelings, so they sing them instead?" Quinn almost sneered, and it made my heart feel heavy. "I don't know, Santana, have we turned into those people?"

She wasn't looking at me which made me feel ten times worse, but in a way I was grateful. I didn't want Quinn's eyes, hot and cold at the same time, staring at me. I felt a ball of panic forming in my stomach and I had to take a deep breath. I let my palm fall away from the back of her neck. "I guess not.. I mean.. Quinn, you know I can't –"

"I know." Quinn slammed her textbook closed and glared down at it, her face tensing slightly.

"Quinn, you can't sing me a song at the Vox." I said simply. The whole idea made me feel light and tingly and like I was going to hyperventilate. "People will.. I mean.. they'll know."

Quinn sighed, and then shifted and looked at me. "Just because I sing a song at the Vox, doesn't mean anyone will know it's to you. And nobody knows anything, Santana."

I frowned at her. "Sugar does. I think even Brynn kind of knows." This was the first time I'd ever told Quinn that, and I could tell she was shocked.

"Why? They're perverts. All we do is act like really close friends, why do they assume we're.. more than that?" Quinn sounded a little distracted now.

I watched her face, trying to figure out if she understood what she'd just said. We aren't more than that, I wanted to say. It was on the tip of my tongue. I even inhaled a breath, meaning to let it out on that sentence, when something stopped me. Something about the way she was facing me but looking through me, or something about the way my heart thudded thickly in my chest. The thought died before I could ever voice it.

I wanted to start a conversation with Quinn about this. I wanted to make some things clear. Because ever since last weekend, when we made love in that mausoleum, Quinn had been acting strange. Not really strange.. just.. I don't know. She was a lot more affectionate. She didn't shoo me away from trying to slide my hand up her thigh at the lunch table, or stop me from playing with her hair during Vox rehearsals. She even smiled more, which was nice. But I got that sick, panicky feeling I always get when I try to think about how Quinn feels or about how I feel, whenever I remembered that last moment.. how she almost said it. And how I told her that I know.

I know Quinn loves me. I mean, she's probably loved me since we were fourteen and I helped her buy her first push-up bra. Who wouldn't love me after that? I saved her from wearing granny bras with no underwire and her boobs melting off her chest before she fully achieved puberty. That was a Good Samaritan act that even I am benefitting from now, to this day. So yeah, Quinn loves me. But I got the feeling.. the inkling.. well, I know that Quinn means love, capital L, emphasis on 'ove.' It scared me, I think.

No, no 'I think' about it. It terrified me. Quinn can't be in love with me, I was already partially dealing with that from Brittany – who even though she is a little clueless and ditzy and air-headed, has been trying to tell me the same thing for at least a year now – and suddenly I felt like a complete idiot to even be wrapped up in this giant mess. I should never have taken Quinn up on that offer. I should have not just shot her down, but slammed her down, earth to Quinn, you are not a lesbian, let's not do this.

I mean, how does Quinn feel about that shit now? About her utter not-lesbianness? Can two girls who refuse to acknowledge themselves as lesbians be in love with each other? It was too complicated to think about. It was a question I'd had about Brittany this time last year that I just ignored, pushed away, and covered up.

But here it was again, and the feeling was way more intense and nagging and hard for me to dismiss. I told myself it was because I didn't have Puckerman around to help keep my mind out of the vagina, but mostly I know I'm just kidding myself. I have special feelings for Quinn, which both mimic and parallel to how I feel for Brittany, but that are different, too. I love Brittany.. she's like my other self. I love Quinn, and she helps me feel like I'm a better version of myself.
See? All this stuff is way too heavy. I can't barely hold these thoughts in my head without circling and dodging that main issue that lays in the center of it, bright as day and glaring in rainbow neon: GAY LADY. LESBIAN. FLANNEL EXTRAORDINAIRE.

I mean, seriously? I am not a lesbian. I am not a lesbian. I am not..

But then I stare at Quinn and just looking at her makes me all fidgety and restless with desire, and I know I'm just fighting with myself over something that nothing, no force on heaven or earth, will be able to change.

It has to mean something that out of all the people I've slept with – and there have been many – that the only two I ever have had feelings for, real feelings, huge-crush-fall-in-love-giddy feelings, have been girls. I mean, I guess it's kind of something I might have inevitably come to terms with, but I really doubt it. Without Quinn, I might have coasted along that comfortable zone of being able to tell myself I was just bi-curious, or that Britt was pretty much just an experiment, or that we both just had chemistry and a lot of free time.. or that we were just best friends who became something more, which is both socially acceptable and a fact of life that I was willing to accept.

Quinn's almost confession last weekend had made me take a good, long look in the mirror at myself. It was other things, too, like my lack of sexual tension with the too-grabby kickboxing teacher. The way anytime Puckerman laughed I wanted to curb check him. The way I pretty much had to be drunk to give in to have sex with any guy at any time. And how I never, ever enjoyed it the way I enjoyed wrapping myself up in Quinn and getting lost in her.

So, I was dealing with that. It was an ephemeral thought dancing around inside my head and that I knew one day I'd have to start talking about. But with Quinn? And when?

She was looking at me expectantly, almost as if she knew the ideas circling my head and wanted to give me time to find the words.

"It's because Sugar is a nosy bitch and Brynn thinks she knows everything." I shrugged, shifted, and looked up at the ceiling.

The moment passed between us, like it often does. Quinn kept her eyes glued to my face for a second more, as if trying to call me back, trying to reverse my split second decision to deflect and avoid. I ignore it, and then she turned and set her notebook down.

"Well, all I have to say about it is.." Quinn said slowly and stood up. She was unbuttoning her white shirt and that definitely caught my attention. She watched me whip my head towards her and a devilish glint filled her eye. "Pay attention to the song I sing tomorrow. I mean it."

I nodded, but I was distracted by the sight of her slowly slipping her shirt off.

We were in the auditorium again, and I had to sit through almost two hours straight of every other girl's mediocre crooning. Even though I had tried, really hard, to explain to Sugar that she just shouldn't attempt a solo, she did. And Miss Holiday, for whatever reason, made us sit through all four excruciating minutes of it with a smile fixed on her face.

"Well, Sugar, that was just awesome," She said in her tone that was caught between upbeat and sarcastic.

"I know." Sugar said and then hopped down.

"All right, up next is.. Santana Lopez."

I smiled, jolting myself upwards and walking towards the stage. Part of me was so, so glad I would be able to sing before Quinn, mostly because.. well I had an idea of what she was going to try to do, and hopefully I could divert her away from some sort of catastrophe.

I wasn't ready for things to change between Quinn and I. It made me nervous that she wanted to make grand gestures like singing a song to me, here, in order to get a message across.

"I'm going to be singing a Tina Turner song," I said into the microphone.

I wasn't anxious. I almost never have stage fright anymore, thanks to the year we had previously, preforming in New Directions. And all these people had become familiar to me, like friends.

I listened as the music from the speakers around us swelled, grabbed the mic, and closed my eyes.

"You must understand, that the touch of your hand, makes my pulse react.. that it's only the thrill, of boy meeting girl, opposites attract. It's physical, only logical.. You must try to ignore, that it means more than that." I slowly opened my eyes and looked into the room, directly at Quinn.

The music increased, and I belted out the famous chorus:

"Ooooh, what's love got to do, got to do with it?
What's love, but a secondhand emotion?
What's love, got to do, got to do with it?
Who needs a heart, when a heart can be broken?"

I stared at Quinn as I sang. I knew that she understood what I was saying. I couldn't read the emotion on her face, because of the way the light was shining on me. I didn't have a choice but to finish the song.

"It may seem to you, that I'm acting confused
When you're close to me.
If I tend to look dazed, I've read it someplace
I've got cause to be.

There's a name for it - there's a phrase that fits,
But whatever the reason.. You do it for me."

I shifted back into the chorus, closing my eyes and ignoring the room. I let the passion fill me, and finally, I wound down into the bridge, and when I looked up, Quinn wasn't sitting there anymore.

"I've been taking on a new direction
But I have to say
I've been thinking about my own protection
It scares me to feel this way.."

I hated that she didn't get to hear this part of it. I really did mean it. I wanted her to hear me say the words, that it scared me to feel this way.

Finally, after repeating the chorus, the music stopped. I felt empty and drained, which was new for me. I usually felt charged and satisfied after I performed.

"That was excellent, Santana. Thank you." Miss Holiday said. I blinked, once, remembering that there were other people in the room rather than Quinn and I.

I nodded slowly, and then shuffled towards the side of the stage. I didn't have a reason to go back and sit in the audience, since Quinn wasn't there anymore.

"All right, Miss Fabray is next."

I paused by the curtains, waiting to see if Quinn would come and try for her solo.

I watched her emerge from somewhere in the back where it was dark. I studied her face as she approached the stage, trying to discern the emotions there. But Quinn kept her face an icy mask, which she was really too good at.

I wanted to reach out to her and hug her, but she didn't even look at me. Instead, she waited for the music to start without introducing her song. I winced a little bit when I recognized the banjo-y sounds issuing from the speakers. Really, Quinn? A country song?

I couldn't really think after she opened her mouth and started singing, though.

"Would you walk to the edge of the ocean, just to fill my jar with sand?
Just in case I get the notion, to let it run through my hand..
Let it run through my hand

Well, I don't want the whole world
The sun, the moon, and all their light
I just want to be the only girl
You love all your life
You love all your life.."

Something inside of me wound up tightly as she sang. Her gaze was fixed to the back of the auditorium, but I could tell Quinn was singing from the depths of her. I hadn't recognized that kind of passion in her since she sang It's A Man's World while she was pregnant. It made a lump form in my chest directly above my heart.

"Lately I've been writing desperate love songs
Mostly I sing them to the walls,
You could be the center piece of, my obsession
If you would notice me, at all
Ohh yeah.."

Quinn turned, and looked straight at me as she ran through the chorus again. I felt her eyes pierce me like an arrow.

I was a coward. I couldn't wait for the song to end before I bolted. I turned and ducked away, clanging the door open from the auditorium and rushing past a group of confused freshmen.

It was maybe two hours later before Quinn finally came looking for me. I didn't know if she would at all, honestly. All I could do was think about her singing those words, and knowing that she meant them for me. I even looked the song up on my phone and listened to it half a dozen times, before I had the words memorized. I had to admit, even though I wasn't really thinking about it, that the song suited her voice. She had made a good decision to use it for an audition.

But what precisely did she mean by saying she wanted to sing it to me? I clearly caught the fact that she wanted to be the only girl I loved.. but all my life? That was a lot to ask a person. Especially when I hadn't even fully come to terms with the fact that I could love a girl, at all, much less in the way she implied and certainly not for, forever.

"Figures you'd be up here." Quinn said, after shuffling and scraping herself over the lip of the roof.

I had been nestled back in my customary spot ever since I'd left the auditorium. I'd brought my giant comforter, though, because it was early November now and it would start snowing soon. The sun was down, and it was rapidly moving from chilly to downright cold.

I wordlessly opened my arm, allowing her to burrow into the blanket with me. I didn't feel the cold, but that was because my mind was on other things.

"You know me so well." I said it to be ironic. I was trying to imply that Quinn didn't know me all that well, though it was a moot argument. Quinn would say she knew me better than myself. I would say she was psychotic and assumes she knows everything. It would lead to a fight.

That's why Quinn just sat there and ignored the jibe.

I sighed, and even though my body was tense with emotions I wasn't sure how to deal with, I allowed myself to snuggle into her. The night was beautiful, the sky a thick velvety black with a million tiny stars peeking out. There were hardly any clouds.

Quinn wrapped her arm around my shoulder and pulled me into her. I buried my face against her, because my nose had gotten a little cold during the last two hours I'd sat on the roof.

The silence grew between us, and I was finally starting to relax a little bit and stop thinking all those crazy, conflicting, insane thoughts when her voice surprised me.

"I know you love me, too," Quinn said quietly.

I tensed, making as if to move away from her, but she just kept her arm clamped around me and refused to let me draw away. I swallowed, distinctly uncomfortable with this. I was glad my head was tucked under her arm and I wasn't somewhere where she could see my face.

"Do you want to know how I know?" Quinn asked me, when I didn't say anything.

"Uh.. yeah." I swallowed. I didn't want to argue with Quinn, especially when her voice had this hard, flint-like quality to it. It made me feel like even though she appeared completely solid, only the slightest amount of pressure would make her chip away.

"You tell me in your sleep." Quinn said.

I sat there, beneath her arm, thinking about it.

Nobody other than Quinn has ever told me I talk in my sleep. In fact, I had denied it so much that she didn't even bother trying to tell me I do it, anymore. I assumed she gave up on that little jest and it went away.

I tried to ignore it, I really did. The sudden, rushing feeling in my chest that was so big and warm it wanted to explode out of me. But I was scared, too. This warm feeling had to battle with the cold fingers of terror and usually, terror won.

I shifted, and this time Quinn drew back, allowing me to pull away from her. When I met her eyes they were closed off and a little calculating, as if she was bracing for some kind of emotional attack. That hurt, probably more than I cared to think about. It hurt me to see Quinn flinch and prepare for me to cause her pain. All it made me want to do was gather her close to me and kiss her.

That should have been an indication for me and my thick skull that what she said was true. But I had to come to it in my own way, and I think Quinn understood that. I just looked at her, and after a while I moved my hand to her face and drew her close to me.

I pressed my lips against hers, and at first it felt extremely strange because mine were almost numb and hers were pretty cold, too. But I pressed harder, until I could feel it, and I felt Quinn melting beneath me.

It wasn't a kiss that asked for passion or one that tried to respond to the things she said to me. It was just a kiss that I gave her to let her know that I heard her, and listened to her.

"I liked your song." I said finally when we pulled away. Quinn was breathing deeply through her nose and her eyes were searching mine.

"I liked yours too. You killed it." Quinn gave me a small smile.

That little smile made me feel like Quinn was about to crack into a million little pieces. I swallowed my heart in my throat unevenly. "Quinn, I never.. I don't mean to.."

Quinn was nodding before I could finish what I was going to say. "I know, Santana. You're a good person."

It killed me, that Quinn said that to me. Because, deep down, I know that I'm not. I'm far from a good person.

A/N: Sorry for these short couple of chapters, guys! But it's building up to the last few. This story has turned into something I never expected, and I honestly never expected the reaction to it, either. Every time I get a review or an alert, I'm amazed.