A/N: I'll honestly never get over the overwhelming response to this story. I appreciate all reviews, both positive and negative. I understand a lot of you don't like the Brittana in this story, but I did always intend for this to be sort of a conflict for Santana between the two of them. Hence the title of the piece. Santana has been pretty much an idiot this entire time, and she knows that.

Chapter 25

The next morning was only the second time I've ever woken up before Quinn at Atherton. The last time, it was after I'd come back from spending the weekend with Brittany. The irony of the two situations was not lost on me.

I lied in bed, watching her. Even though I've known Quinn since we were both gangly thirteen-year-olds, with more angles than curves, it never stops surprising me how utterly beautiful she is. It's hard for me to see sometimes, because I get so caught up in the other things going on between us – barely repressed anger, or loud arguments, or, in our past lives, the constant competition between us. But right now, with none of those things imposing, I could look at her and just.. damn. She's the kind of person who will be beautiful her whole life, and with time, will only keep getting more beautiful.

I can't say that I've never been jealous of Quinn. I have been, especially freshman year when our relationship was still sort of unsteady. She drew so much attention because she was the new girl, and instead of being ostracized, it was like everyone wanted to know her. Until then, I'd been the undisputed hottie of our grade. Quinn got more attention than I did, maybe because she was so wholesome and innocent-seeming, and it drove me kinda nuts.

I spent a lot of time grinding my teeth because I didn't understand how she could pull boys while wearing cardigans and ankle-length flowery skirts, while I had to strip and get drunk and grind in order to get the same kind of attention. I can't lie, something about it might have led to the flood of insecurity I felt last summer, which prompted my little enhancements. I don't regret the boob job, but I can't say it's something I'm exactly proud of.

Still, it was a dynamic of our friendship that always went unspoken. We never addressed it. And I grew out of it, mostly. I'm not jealous of Quinn now, but I think that's because I had watched her fall from glory. Rather, her flaming plummet. Quinn had climbed too high, too fast, and she'd paid for it.

I didn't have a reason to be jealous anymore, because I know now that no one is perfect, and both Quinn and I are far from it. We're both damaged in different ways.

I brushed my fingers through her hair, moving her bangs from her forehead. Her face muscles twitched, and she let out a soft sigh before she rolled over.

I glanced around the room, trying to gauge the time. It was still pretty dark, but that didn't mean anything. The snow storms we'd been having lately could make it look like night time in the middle of the day. I sighed, slowly, and then slid towards the foot of the bed, dodging Quinn's feet, standing up quickly and hoping I didn't bother her. A quick glance at her face reassured me that she was still sleeping.

I clutched at my cell phone, checking the time. It was only eight. On a Saturday. I repressed an internal groan, because I had intended to sleep away half the day, in order to avoid the fact that there was nothing to do around here, since we were snowed in, and the fact that I couldn't shake the heavy depression that had been following me for weeks since sectionals.

I decided to just accept it, since I was wide awake and I didn't want to wake Quinn up by tossing and turning in the bed for hours. I slowly padded into the bathroom and stripped, hopping in the shower.

I spent the time bathing to think about what had happened last night. The whole thing had Rachel Berry written all over it. Britt is an intuitive person, that's a fact, but she's far from indirect. She doesn't make big statements, unless she is literally making a statement. She's very straight-forward and lacks a certain flare for the dramatic. Sending me a song in an e-mail definitely was more up Berry's alley, and I tried not to dwell so long on the idea that they had been spending a lot of time together lately.

Maybe Brittany and Rachel just had a natural friendship chemistry between them, that they never explored before, because of me. I don't know. It's not my business to care about it either way, even if they both had boyfriends.

That old, instinctive fear swelled inside of me, to think that Britt had talked to Rachel about us. About me. It's going to be a long time before I stop reacting with panic any time I consider the idea that people know. It's even hard for me to say it in my head. That people know.. that I'm a lesbian.

Not that Rachel knew that. Even Brittany didn't know that. Only I did. And Quinn. I think Quinn knew it before I did, which is a weird thing to think about.

Above anything else, Quinn has been the best kind of friend to me that anyone could ever be over the last few months. Maybe even better than Brittany, if I want to be honest. The underlying problem with being so wrapped up in Brittany, is that Brittany makes things really easy for me. Maybe that's not what I need. Maybe I need somebody to make things hard for me sometimes, to complicate and challenge me, and basically knock me on my ass once in a while.

Quinn has certainly done that.

I just didn't understand why this whole thing had to come to a head now. Why did anything have to happen that forced me to deal with this? Why couldn't I just be one of those people who hides in the closet until I'm in college? Well, I guess I'm still technically in the closet. But I didn't even know there was a fucking closet until recently, and I was happy not being aware of it.

I guess. I mean, it's hard to really say if I've ever been entirely happy. And that's a pretty frightening realization. Who wants to wake up one day and realize they can't say, truly, if they've ever been happy?

I sighed, stepping out of the shower, and wrapped myself up in a towel. This is a maudlin train of thought and I'd been riding it for too many days to count. I was tired of being all mopey and upset.

Quinn was probably right, that this thing between Brittany and I was being blown out of proportion. I just felt so damn guilty and sad. Even if I never wanted to admit it to myself, I always knew Brittany would rather be with me than anyone. She's never had a boyfriend before Artie, and I think if I had agreed to date her during the summer, like she'd been hinting at, that would have never happened. And I'd always gone so far out of my way to stress to Brittany that I wasn't gay, that we weren't together, that the thing between us was just friendly. So I think her seeing me doing things with Quinn that I'd only ever done with her was hard.

Well, it happened. It was over and done. And Brittany was trying to move on. Even though the message was inspired by Rachel, the content was definitely all Britt. It made sense, even if it still hurt. I just hoped that we'd find our way back to being friends at some point.

I took a minute to brush my hair and put it up in a curly ponytail, not bothering to blow dry it. I still didn't have the energy to care about impressing anybody.

I walked back into the room, still wrapped up in a towel. I looked at Quinn, still sleeping, and sucked in a breath, before walking slowly over to the bed and easing down on the foot of mattress she left between herself and the edge.

"Quinn," I murmured quietly. I lifted my hand and pressed against her face, rubbing my thumb against her cheek. "Quiiiiinn,"

She wrinkled up her nose and I smiled because it was cute. She slowly cracked her eyes open and her face immediately tightened. It made me feel inexplicably sad, to see that her first instinct around me was to withdraw. I immediately missed the soft way she looked while asleep.

I knit my eyebrows together, and rubbed my thumb over the tension in her forehead.

"Hey," Quinn croaked softly.

I gave her a faint smile. "Hey."

I watched Quinn wake up by degrees. She slowly stretched, turning onto her back and lifting her arms above her head. I watched the muscles jump in her neck and the way her body rolled beneath the blanket.

"How are you today?" Quinn asked, her voice sounding much more normal, though it still had sleep in it.

I tilted my head at her, and tried to think before I said anything. I raised my eyebrows slightly in surprise when I realized I wasn't as upset as I had been. I guess crying helped drain all the pent up emotion out of me.

"I think I'm actually in a pretty good mood today." I gave her a small smile.

Quinn quirked her eyebrows. "Really? You're done playing the lovesick teenager?"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Not really ready to joke about it yet," I told her.

Quinn's face softened. "Sorry."

I shrugged. "No big deal. Can't drag around a dead dog forever. Or whatever the saying is."

Quinn snorted, and shifted in the bed, rolling back onto her side. "I'm telling you, you two are completely ridiculous."

"Yeah, I think I realize that," I said, frowning. "You've told me enough times."

Quinn glanced up and met my eyes solidly before she offered a shrug. "I don't get why you put yourselves through this this whole time. It seems like a lot of drama and unnecessary pain."

I began to feel slightly uncomfortable with this situation. I didn't want to talk about Brittany, or our past. I didn't want to think about it or what she was doing or what either one of us had gone through. And especially not with Quinn! She's the only person – besides maybe Rachel – who knows about Brittany and I, in full detail, and she's also the only other girl I've ever slept with.

"If you love somebody, you should just be with them," Quinn said into the silence that built around us. I looked back at her, wordlessly. I didn't know what to say. "I mean it. If I was in love with someone, I wouldn't let a stupid thing like a label get in the way of us being together."

It felt like someone had sucked all the air out of my lungs. I couldn't really describe it, and I don't know if Quinn noticed it, because I sat there, paralyzed. My chest was frozen, though, and I began to feel light headed. I slowly sucked in a breath and let it out.

"Quinn." I said it quietly, but seriously, and it made her look at me. "I'm not in love with Brittany." That was the first time I'd ever actually said that to Quinn. And I knew it was true.

Quinn stared at my face for a long moment, confusion knitting her eyebrows.

I was starting to feel ridiculously awkward. I wanted to get up and get dressed and get away from this conversation, but something about the way Quinn was looking at me, had me pinned in place.

"It's hard for me to believe that, Santana," Quinn said finally. "You have to be at least a little bit in love with her."

I shook my head. I didn't want to argue this with Quinn.

"What do you mean, if you were in love with someone?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt like my whole body was slowly lighting on fire, because a flush crept up my face and I felt like I was instantaneously breaking out in a nervous sweat. I tried to look away, but Quinn was suddenly staring at me. "You aren't?"

She slowly sat up, sliding her back against the wall, shoving her pillow out of the way. She kept her eyes trained to my face, though. I couldn't read the expression on hers. It was a solid mask of indifference.

"Are we going to talk about this?" Quinn's voice gave her away, because it cracked and trembled. "Really? Now? Finally?"

I tried to say something. I couldn't think of anything to say. I just shrugged.

She stared at me for a long moment. I felt like I was growing hotter and hotter under her gaze.

"Santana, I don't know anymore." Quinn said finally. It hurt me. It made it feel like my chest was slowly cracking in half. "I did think that I was. Especially after Halloween. But even before that."

Quinn's hands were trembling, so she clutched them tightly together in her lap. Her eyes stayed glued to my face, though. She's much braver than I am. I could barely bring myself to look at her.

"It's so hard to be in love with you, though," Quinn said finally. Her voice was raw and honest, and full of a strained emotion.

I nodded and swallowed. I was trying to let her talk, since I had never done that before and I knew she had all of this building up inside of her for so long. I owed it to her to at least listen.

"It's hard to be in love with you, and watch you spend so much of your time living in denial and avoiding the truth, about yourself, about how you feel." I really didn't want to hear that.

I squinted at her, trying to convey to her how much I didn't want to talk about this part of it. I didn't say anything though.

"And then to see how you are about Brittany.." Quinn let out a long breath, and it was the first time she turned her face away from me. She stared off into the distance for a minute before she looked back at me. "It just feels pointless. Like I could never compare to her, and the only reason any of this.." She lifted her palm up and made a helpless motion with it. "..happened was because she wasn't around. It really sucks to feel like a consolation prize."

Oh, fuck. That really hurt. I knew I had to say something now, because Quinn looked like she was on the brink of a break down.

"Quinn, you aren't a consolation prize. You aren't. This thing between you and me has nothing to do with Brittany." I tried to sound sincere. I looked at Quinn square in the face. I think she wanted to believe me, but I don't know if she did. "I'm not going to lie to you," I swallowed. "For a long time I didn't want to admit that I had any feelings about it. Everything is easier without involving feelings." I gave her a watery, self-deprecating smile. "But I don't want you to live with that, thinking that you have to compare yourself to her. You don't. And the things I feel for you, definitely don't have anything to do with Brittany." I let out a shaky breath. I didn't think any of that came out right.

Quinn studied me for a moment. She bit her lip. "How do you feel about me?"

My stomach dropped and my heart sped up. I wondered if she could see the immediate flash of panic in my eyes.

"Well, I do love you, Quinn." I said. I let out a breath. "I haven't told you that enough lately. I love you. You're one of the best people in my life."

Quinn didn't let herself smile or react in any way. She just watched me.

I picked at the bedspread with trembling fingers. "I think that I'm in love with you, too." It came out strangled. It was hard and it hurt to say it. I felt vulnerable and exposed and like I wanted to run away. My heart was galloping. I didn't understand why I was so terrified, but I knew that I was.

"It was the little things at first," I said with a strangled chuckle. "Just little things that built up and made me realize there was something different about you, about us." I didn't look at her face. I had to say this while I had the focus, or else everything would come flooding out of me and I'd never find the words again. "Things like you telling me I talk in my sleep. Or how I sleep so hard whenever I'm in bed with you." It took me a while to realize that, but Quinn had been telling the truth. Whenever I lied in bed with Quinn, it was like we were in our own little world.

"Or you know, the way you say things that make me want to punch you and kiss you at the same time." I tried to sound light and amusing. I don't know if it worked. "The way I can't stand seeing you upset." I gulped in a breath. "How I like making you happy."

Quinn was still and silent, and I slowly let my eyes travel up to her face. She was staring at me and I couldn't read her expression. I clutched at the bedspread, feeling like I was a second away from bolting. The urge to run was extremely strong.

"Why now?" Quinn asked me, and she actually sounded kinda mad. I stared at her, surprised. "Why are you telling me this now?"

I shrugged, helpless. My mind was stumbling over anything I could even begin to say. "Uh, I don't know? Because I only just realized I'm.. you know.." I blushed furiously. "And that being in love with a girl is even possible for me?"

"And it has nothing to do with Brittany basically telling you to kick rocks, twelve hours ago," Quinn said harshly. Her tone was demanding. Her eyebrows were knit together and her eyes flashed hotly.

I swallowed, trying to still the nerves that bundled and jumped in my gut. "No. I've had these thoughts and feelings for a little while." I suddenly felt like crying. It's one of the worst feelings in the world, to dump your guts like that and lay everything bare, and then have the person you're confessing to not believe you. I didn't blame her though. I understood where Quinn was coming from.

"How long?" Quinn demanded. "How long have you felt this way and you didn't tell me?"

I groped for an answer. I couldn't find one. "I don't know, Quinn! What you said earlier, about me being in denial? Well it's true!" I tried not to yell. It was hard. I felt my voice rising because it was the only defense I had left. "I honestly spend zero time analyzing my own feelings and whenever they come up, I always just push them away! I didn't want to be in love with you, all right?" I shrugged. "I don't want to be in love at all! It sucks! It's scary!"

Quinn was laughing now, but it was a harsh and grating sound. "How do you think I've felt about this this whole time, Santana?" She asked, though I didn't get the impression she really wanted me to answer. "I've tried to be understanding. I really have. I've tried to be patient and let you go at your own pace. Then I just thought that I was crazy, because there was no way you felt the same about me." She shook her head. "Do you know how completely stupid I felt? Do you know how hard it was to keep being patient and understanding while my heart was slowly breaking?"

I felt like a complete idiot. I felt like slime. I wanted to burrow under a rock and stay there forever. I've seen the many faces of Quinn Fabray, but this one – this angry, passionate, aching one – it was the worst.

"And now to find out you've felt like you might be in love with me, 'for a little while,'" She mocked what I'd said earlier. "Well you know what! That's just fucking great!"

I flinched at her tone.

"Why do you keep doing this?" She sounded more like she was asking me a serious question now, but I was too afraid to answer. "This thing where you look a good thing in the face and then turn around and run from it?"

I shrugged helplessly at her. "I don't know, Quinn. I don't know anything." It was safe to admit that because it was completely true.

She stared at me, and I felt like maybe some of the anger was draining from her face. "God, you piss me off," She said with real feeling. "I mean it. You're an idiot."

I nodded. "I know." I felt sheepish and insecure now. I didn't know how to react to anything that was going on.

"So what the hell does this mean?" Quinn sounded frustrated. Her face was going through too many emotions for me to properly keep up with. "And for the love of God, do NOT say 'I don't know,'"

I winced at Quinn's tone. "I'm not.. sure?" I could tell by the way her eyes flashed that she didn't like that answer. "Quinn, try to believe me, I never intended to hurt you." I was so desperate for her to believe me about that. "Everything is just confusing and hard for me right now, and it just kind of crept up on me and surprised me, you know?" I didn't realize that I was crying until my hands lifted up to push away at the tears that slid down my cheeks.

Quinn was struggling not to soften, but I could tell that she was. I didn't want her to. I definitely didn't intend to start crying so that she would stop being mad at me. I know that Quinn has every right to be furious, and I deserve whatever she decides to throw at me. I looked away from her, trying to keep my tears hidden.

"I wish I would have just told you. I wish I would have told Brittany about us. Mostly I wish I would have had the courage to be honest with myself about it to begin with."

I was surprised when I felt Quinn reach forward and tug on my arm. I looked at her, and how she'd leaned forward in order to circle my wrist with her fingers. She was tugging more insistently now, and I gave in, crawling towards her. Quinn gripped the towel covering me in one hand and pulled it away in a swift motion, tossing it on the ground.

I widened my eyes. Slow tears were still leaking from them and I was in an awkward position now, but Quinn didn't give me time to process, she just pushed me underneath the covers and then slid herself on top of me.

I was confused. I stared at her. How did everything flash into this so quickly?

"Quinn, I don't think this is a good idea—"

Quinn was shaking her head at me before I'd even finished the sentence. "This is how we communicate best," Quinn told me firmly. She ran the flat of her palm over my left breast, it was warm and solid against my slightly chilled skin. "Just like this. I'm tired of talking."

I wasn't used to Quinn being so forceful or dominant. I can't lie, it is kinda sexy, but my heart still felt slightly shattered from the word vomit we'd both just spewed. I had no idea how Quinn felt, because we'd mostly been focusing on my feelings, and then how I pissed her off.

Well, that might be an accurate portrayal of how she still felt, because she was still being pretty angry. Her hands began rubbing over my torso, and the pressure of her fingers was rough and they pressed almost painfully against my ribs. She was looking down at me and her face was hard and set in an expression I had never really seen before. She lowered herself over me and immediately attached herself to my neck, her lips kissing softly first, and then she opened her mouth and began to suck sharply.

I inhaled a breath, my hand immediately climbing upwards to tangle in her short hair. I gripped tightly, the pressure I applied against her scalp directly proportionate to the amount of sting and pain radiating from my neck. My heart began to thunder in my chest, and it was a mixture of fear and arousal that flooded through me.

Quinn grunted against my neck, shifting until she was sucking somewhere else. My breathing began to become uneven, though I didn't feel like my body was responding quickly enough. It felt off and wrong, somehow. I felt like I was swimming through a viscous liquid, everything muddled and distorted, and Quinn was flashing and flaring, like fire set to gasoline, burning up in an instant.

"Quinn, wait," I mumbled, tugging at her hair. She jerked her head, ignoring the way my fingers grasped her hair, and then she bit my earlobe. I gasped at the sudden shock of it, and then bit my lip in a moan as she slid her tongue along the sore area, finally sucking it into her mouth and enveloping it in wet heat.

Quinn didn't care about going slow or easy. She didn't seem like she even cared if my body was responding properly. Her hands were everywhere, touching and groping, and it still felt slightly surreal.

I wanted to slow this down. I finally turned my head, nudging against her face, and pressed my mouth against her lips.

She kissed me for a moment, but she ignored the pace I set, instead attacking my mouth with teeth and tongue and vehemence. It stole my breath away, made my heart pound in my chest and my stomach clench and writhe.

I couldn't help it, I was getting turned on. Quinn had that uncanny ability, even if my mind wasn't entirely on board. It was crazy how direct and unforgiving she was being. I felt all the blood rush to my head, turning my cheeks pink, the flow roaring in my ears.

I broke the kiss, gasping, and I noticed the way Quinn smirked at me. It was enough to send me over the edge of resistance. She immediately lowered her face back towards my neck, dragging her lips across my collarbones, nibbling and biting against them. I groaned, pressing up against her.

I began running my right hand down her body, impatient with her pajamas. I tugged at her t-shirt, sliding my fingers along the sharp definition of her spine, and then with it bunched up around her shoulders, pushed against her until she lifted up. Quinn's eyes locked onto mine and didn't break even when I pulled the shirt over her head. I breathed heavily.

Quinn let me throw her shirt away, and then she slid further down my body, running her mouth over the skin of my chest, and then dipping hot, open-mouthed kisses in the valley between my breasts. I squinted my eyes closed, moaning. One hand gripped her shoulder and the other tangled in her hair, because it was the only sort of control I felt I had.

Quinn lifted her face from me for a moment, and then without warning she sucked a nipple into her mouth. I whimpered and bucked beneath her, fingernails biting into her shoulder. I felt her hiss against me, and it had me clawing down her back.

I wanted to flip Quinn over, hold her down, make her feel the things she was making me feel. The feeling that flooded through me was intense and on the borderline between painful and sweet. Every kiss scalded me, and she was littering me with red marks and bruises, and I didn't care.

I pulled Quinn back up towards my face and licked my tongue into her mouth, biting and sucking on her lower lip. I felt her tremble against me, and I noticed the uneven way she was breathing, the unsteady way her fingers clutched against me. Quinn was brimming over with something, some emotion that I had no idea what it was.

I slid the palm of hand down her body, flush with her torso, rubbing my palm over her ribs and then along the cleft of her hip. Quinn shook her head, breaking away from me. "No." She said, her voice husky and dark.

I looked up at her, frowning. "No," I said back to her, in contradiction. I didn't move my hand. In fact, I slipped it along her lower stomach, nails sliding against the seam of her shorts.

Quinn glared at me, and slid her own hand down between our bodies. She didn't have the barrier of clothing to contend with, so she immediately slipped her fingers into my folds. Her eyes stayed glued on mine while she flicked a fingertip over my clit, making me arch and hiss. I struggled to stay clearheaded, but she was being brutal and fast, moving her fingers against me.

I pushed my hand into her shorts and watched her face contort. She shifted, as if to pull away from me, but I used my free hand to hold her still. She didn't have a lot of maneuverability, because her free hand was propping her body up. She began panting when I slid my fingers against her slick panties, touching the definition of her lips through the fabric.

My head flew back and a moan wrenched out of me when Quinn pushed two fingers inside, roughly. I couldn't help the way my hips jerked or the way my body pulsed, clenching around Quinn. I lost my train of thought and my hand stilled against Quinn for a moment. She lowered her head in triumph and placed a kiss against my neck.

I shifted, sliding my hand into her underwear, and immediately my fingers were drenched and hot. Quinn groaned, her lips still pressed against me, and I quickly circled her clit with precise, determined motions.

It was like we were competing to see who could remain in control the longest. I didn't know which one of us it would be. Quinn stilled her fingers inside of me for a moment, overwhelmed, before she quickly began jerking them, making my body shake and roll against the mattress. I panted and whined, cocking my hips and spreading my legs, inviting her to push deeper. The feeling in my lower abdomen began to tense and shift, squeezing and pulsing with the fast rhythm Quinn set.

I reached further down, my breath exploding in my chest, and slid two fingers inside of Quinn. She felt swollen and hot, and I felt her body undulate against me, her own hips rocking and quaking mindlessly.

We began to work together, our wrists sliding against one another, hips and bodies rolling. Quinn stayed pressed against my chest, her face buried there, and I could feel her chest heave with her breaths and her heart pound in her ribcage. It felt so solid and strong.

It didn't take long for us to climb high together. It was almost surreal, to feel my own insides grip and stutter around her fingers, and then to also feel hers doing the same thing. I don't know which one of us fell over the edge first, but our bodies suddenly went rigid and then began shuddering against one another, quaking and shaking.

Quinn slid away from me, drawing her fingers out and at the same time, forcing mine to slip away. I watched her as she buried herself into the blankets, turning her face into the pillow. I watched her chest heave and listened to her ragged breathing.

I curled against her slowly, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and drawing her close to me. She finally turned her face towards mine, and she looked at me with glassy, heavy eyes.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, my throat suddenly dry.

Quinn just watched me for a moment and didn't say anything. I began to feel that erratic feeling of panic coming back, even though my limbs were weak and shivery.

"I love you, Santana," Quinn said finally. She was looking me straight in the eyes when she said it. Her voice wasn't tender or gentle. She actually sounded a little mad.

I nodded, and swallowed. "I love you too, Quinn." I murmured back.

Quinn spent another moment studying my face, before she shook her head and then just pressed a kiss against my mouth. It was soft, and I felt her lips trembling slightly beneath mine. I breathed against her.

"There is something you're going to have to stop doing," Quinn said finally, when she broke away from me.

I looked at her, curiously. Her face was neutral.

"You have to stop leaving the cap off the toothpaste." Quinn deadpanned.

I stared.

"It's driving me crazy."

My face finally split in a grin, and I laughed.

I laughed and began chasing Quinn, my movements jerky and muffled by the snow. Quinn looked back at me and shrieked, her face immediately breaking out in a huge grin, and she dashed away from me.

We were in the flower garden. The entire place was covered in snow that piled so high in some places it flushed against our knees and threatened to climb above our waists. Snow covered the dead flower bushes, making obstacles that we had to dart in and out of. My face and hair was still dripping from the snowball Quinn had surprised me with, and my skin stung from the sudden blast of cold.

"You better keep running, Fabray!" I hollered. It was hard to run in ankle-high snow drifts, and the bottom half of my jeans were getting soaked.

The cold air was exploding in and out of my chest in white puffs, and I paused right next to a knee-high shrub that Quinn had taken the time to dash around. I waited a moment and then quickly flung myself over it, tackling Quinn to the ground.

Quinn was laughing and screaming, her entire body pressed deep into the snow. I laughed uncontrollably and began scooping up giant handfuls of snow and then rubbing it against her face and hair, pushing it below the collar of her thick snow jacket.

"That's enough! Pfft, Santana!" Quinn screamed, her face split in laughter.

"Say you're sorry!" I said, my knees pinning her waist down. Powdery snow was sticking to every single part of me, and Quinn was struggling and sputtering and laughing insanely.

"God, I think you broke something," Quinn wheezed. Her face was pink from the cold and from the running, and she was breathless.

"Say sorry," I warned, clutching another fistful of snow.

Quinn's eyes darted to my mittened hand and then back to my face.

"Santana, you're being unreasonable," She said in a prim tone.

I grinned and smashed the snow against her face.

She gasped and shrieked, and began struggling beneath me.

"Damnit, Santana!" She used her hands to wipe the snow off her face.

"Just say it," I taunted. "Just say sorry."

She scowled at me. "I'm sorry you're such an ass."

I laughed, but took pity on her. "Good enough I guess." I stood up slowly, and reached down to help her up.

I eyed her warily, because she was pretty apt to try to tackle me down, and I was abruptly freezing. My jeans and shoes were soaked through, and the snow melting in my shirt made goosebumps erupt all over my skin.

"Are you ready to go inside?" I asked uneasily. Quinn was dusting and brushing herself off, pulling clumps of snow out of her hair and wiping it away from her face and neck.

She glanced at me and smirked. "I guess. You look like drowned."

I scowled at her, and patted self-consciously at my hair. The moisture from the snow was undoubtedly making it frizz.

We made our way back towards the school building, but it was slow going. They had only just begun to clear paths along the places where there was concrete, and Quinn and I had been the first people to break the solid sheet of white in the unpaved areas. But it was easier to walk back in our own footprints.

My skin tingled and stung as soon as we stepped inside from the immediate warmth. Every particle of clothing was soaked, including my supposedly weather-proof coat. I laughed at Quinn, who was beginning to look pretty drowned herself.

She smiled at me and walked ahead of me up the stairs.

"Be careful!" I warned her when I heard her shoes squeaking dangerously against the marble.

I clutched the banister tightly, afraid that at any moment I'd lose my footing and then go crashing down two flights of stairs. I didn't want to imagine what I'd look like at the end of that little tumble.

Quinn kept throwing looks back at me along with little smiles. "You're the clumsy one, Santana," She said smugly.

I gave her the finger, but it looked kinda funny since I was wearing mittens.

She laughed, and pulled ahead of me, almost teasing me with the swift way she took the stairs. I was too afraid to rush after her, though. My shoes had already slipped once or twice.

When I finally made it to our dorm room, I was surprised she'd left the door open. Quinn usually closes it directly behind her.

I was even more surprised to see her standing in place, directly in front of me, rooted to the spot.

"What? Quinn?" I glanced at her back and then stepped up closer to her, looking further into the room.

My jaw dropped with shock.

There, standing in the middle of our room, was the red track-suit-clad Sue Sylvester.

"Hello, ladies," She said, smiling.

Only one chapter left..