WHN - Part 8

The girls were sitting around the table; no one was talking. Santana was looking between Rachel and Quinn.

"This is crazy, you guys are friends. You tell each other everything!"

Both girls looked at her with faces pleading with her to stop. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Quinn and I are kind of seeing each other," she blurted.

"San..." said Quinn.

"Q, we were practically playing tonsil hockey for the first ten minutes you were here," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but-" started Quinn.

"It's cool, I kind of figured. You know I don't care about that stuff, why wouldn't you tell me that?" interrupted Rachel.

Quinn was about to offer an excuse when Santana butted in.

"Rachel might be baking a bun in that school girl oven of hers."

"Santana! Oh my god!" said Rachel.

"You really need to work on you're subtleties," suggested Quinn, looking sympathetically at Rach.

"Why wouldn't you tell ME that? I've been there," Quinn asked.

"Because no one was supposed to know," said Rachel, eyeing San, "I wanted to be sure before I told anyone."

The room was awkwardly quiet for a moment.

"So, are you?" asked Quinn, finally breaking the silence.

"Santana and I were just talking about going to a clinic for tests."

"Well, go get dressed. The worst part is not knowing. We'll go together," offered Quinn.

Rachel smiled at her before getting up from the table. Quinn stood and brought her in for a hug.

"No matter what, I'm always here for you," murmured Quinn, against her ear, "everything will be fine."

Rachel squeezed her hand and headed off to her bedroom leaving Quinn and Santana alone.

"What are you smirking at" asked Quinn.

"Nothing. I just can't believe your back in New York so soon. I won't lie, I think it has something to do with me and my awesomeness," grinned San.

Quinn laughed as Santana made her way around the table.

"Just keep it together, we're going to need your head to fit through the door," replied Quinn, slapping Santana's bum, "now go get ready so we can find out if you're going to have another roommate in nine months."

Santana and Quinn sat quietly in the waiting room. The nerves between the two had grown since they arrived, only Quinn could imagine what Rachel was feeling.

"She has her second call back in two days," whispered Santana.

"She'll be fine. There's a possibility she's pregnant, not paralyzed."

"I know but they can't have a fat Fanny running around."

Quinn couldn't hold her laughter, "you're ridiculous."

As both girls' smiles widened, Rachel walked back out making them disappear just as fast. They stood at the same time.

"False alarm," said Rach.

"Whew!" said Santana. Quinn gave her a look.

"What? Lets be honest, the loft is getting a little cramped."

The two girls shook their heads at Santana and Rachel moved to give her a hug.

"Thank you for your help," said Rachel.

"Anytime," said Santana, locking eyes with Quinn over her shoulder. Quinn couldn't help but be amazed by Santana; this was the girl she knew. The softer side of her BFF didn't shine through very often but when it did, it was just as fierce as her bad side.

"So? What's happens next?" asked Santana, taking a sip of her water. They had dropped Rachel off at the loft and decided to head back out for dinner.

"I filed an informal complaint hoping that it will make the Dean see the whole picture. If nothing changes, than my next step is a formal complaint."

"Just complaints? There's no law suits or something?"

"No, it was consensual. I don't need to ruin his life and career by lying and I'm hoping he has enough respect to do the same for me."

"It just seems like that's not a big enough step," said Santana.

"Well, not everything needs to be the grand gesture you're used to," smiled Quinn. Santana smiled back at her. Their food came and with it, a bottle of champagne.

Santana was about to tell the waiter that wasn't theirs when Quinn accepted a glass.

"We haven't even mentioned your big Broadway debut yet!" said Quinn, excitedly. Santana held her glass in front of her.

"To you," said Quinn, taking Santana's hand, "may you break every leg and wow them like you've wowed me." They clinked their glasses and both took a sip. Santana was blushing and for once, had no words.

"I'm so proud of you for going after and following your dreams San, you deserve your name in lights."

"Thank you," replied Santana, "but I'm just as proud of you for standing up for yourself. That takes courage, you've always been the brave one."

They shared a moment that to an outsider would have looked like a simple conversation, but to them was an understanding.

"Okay, enough of this sappy stuff. This food looks amazing," said Santana, "plus, I can't wait to get you home."

The next morning, Santana woke up with her arms and legs tangled around the blonde. She smelt like the finest roses and she couldn't think of a better way to wake up. She pulled Quinn closer against her. Quinn stirred and rolled over. San propped herself up on an elbow so she could look into those rich hazel eyes.

"Morning," sighed Quinn, with a smirk.

"Morning," smiled San.

"That was fun."

"I'm glad you thought so," said Santana, brushing a piece of hair from Q's face. She leaned down to kiss her, her lips so soft. She had dreamed about them for the rest of the night. Quinn smiled and gently pushed away.

"Hold that thought," she said, slipping from the bed and throwing on San's t-shirt, "I want to brush my teeth." Santana let out a breath and rolled onto her back with the huge smile that always appeared around Quinn. She was thankful Kurt and Rachel had "plans" last night and had managed to stay out all night. Santana could hear the water running in the bathroom and rolled over quickly grabbing the bottle of mouthwash from her bedside table. After a quick rinse, she spit it into the garbage can and tried to find a sexy pose before Quinn came back. She managed to try a couple positions before finally giving up and going to find Q.

"Hey, you get lost on your way back?" she quipped, seeing the blonde leaning against the shelves on her phone.

"What's up?" asked San, coming to a stop in front of her.

"I missed a call from a Connecticut number. I'm just checking the message now."

"Something to do with your complaint?" questioned Santana.

Quinn shrugged pushing numbers corresponding with her answering machine. They were both waiting to find out who the mystery call was from. Santana was straining to hear when Quinn's face went pale. It scared Santana, she had never seen anyone's color change that fast. She wrapped an arm around Quinn, "who is it? What did they say?"

Quinn's legs felt like rubber, she needed to sit.

"Quinn, tell me what's going on?" said San, helping her to the couch.

"It's my professor," she uttered.