Present Day
There was an eerie silence as Puck looked at Quinn meekly. "It's a sad love story. Santana once said that when people start to become alone in life they move near the water. That's the reason why she stayed here in Florida."
"Yeah, but...I, I don't know. Puck, I mean, I'm married and I don't think Brittany..." Quinn rambled on, and when she realized that she was rambling, she sighed. "It's just that I've...I've treated my marriage with my wife so – casually," Quinn managed to spit out.
"So, you're in Santana's boat, too?"
"Yeah," Quinn nodded. "Puck, do you have any idea where I can find Santana? You said she was are regular here."
"Used to be," Puck corrected her. "She only stayed for half a year."
"Why?" Quinn's eyes bulged as she heard the dire news.
"She's never the type to stay in one place. She's always told me she stayed on the move, never stopped long enough to fall in love again, I guess. Maybe she just wanted to, well, leave one place when she starts to let things remind her of Brittany. She's a child of the open road, remember?"
"I remember. Puckerman," Quinn said. "Any idea where I might find Brittany?"
"Brittany, maybe in Lima. Santana, the last I saw or heard of her was that she was in Tibet for National Geographic almost a year ago. I haven't heard of her since, or read her articles on the Nat Geo magazine or channel. I think she had quit. Try using the people search engine," Puck whined.
"Puck, I wonder what could've happened with Brittany now. I want to talk to her," Quinn said.
"Believe me, I know. Brittany's still married and tied to her family. She never wanted to give up on them. I mean, Santana did not want her to give up on her family."
"Puck, it made me realize how I've missed out so much on my marriage with Rachel," Quinn sighed.
"Come on, tell me about your story," Puck smiled and leaned on the table.
"Puck, wait, Puck, I need to go. Look, I need to go home, back to Rachel and tell her I love her so much and that I...I want to make it up to her. I wasn't really the good wife I'm supposed to be. Can you...call me? Here's my number," Quinn handed her calling card to Puck. "Call me if you have any news about Santana. I'm sorry I have to go."
With that and a clatter of upturned glasses, Quinn left the restaurant and Puck, who was yelling about how difficult it was to book a flight due to the late hour. She went straight to her hotel, took out her backpack, and tossed everything inside it and she quickly hailed a cab to the airport.
It's almost twelve when Quinn sat on the coach seat of a small plane and she was almost asleep the moment her head hit the headrest. She didn't have any plan on what to do when she reaches home. She didn't have a story, all she ever knew was that she's coming home and telling Rachel what she had realized – that she didn't marry Rachel because she had to, but because she needed her.
"We are now on our final descent to New York, please fasten your seatbelts," Quinn heard the system speaker say and she scrambled to get her seatbelt right. She waited as she felt her stomach seem to rise up and there was a soft jolt underneath her feet, telling her they had landed. Quinn looked at the time and it was almost four o'clock.
She quickly hailed a cab and they drove straight to downtown Manhattan. She was tired – beaten up would be more like the word, but Quinn prodded on. Twenty minutes later, she was turning the knob of their front door of their three-bedroom apartment. The lights in the living room were out, and it was very dark. The bedroom lights were out, too. But she could make out Rachel's figure in the dim nightlight. Quinn dropped her backpack at the foot of the bed and kicked off her shoes. Slowly, she climbed into the bed, and then she noticed a stack of papers on the bedside table. She thought they were just some stuff Rachel had brought to bed to check out but when she realized what it was, her heart suddenly raced into a panicked frenzy.
The stack of papers were divorce papers. And there were tear stains on them, she's sure of it. The topmost paper had wet blots on them.
Rachel had been crying that night.
Quinn took the papers and quietly folded it into half, and then she shoved it into one of the drawers that she had taken property with. Inching herself slowly, Quinn curled up into Rachel's warmth. The smaller girl stirred and woken up.
"I thought you're gone for a week," she said groggily.
"I needed to come home to you, Rae," Quinn said softly. "Go to sleep now. It's still early. I'll make you breakfast tomorrow morning."
Quinn gave Rachel's hair a kiss and not long after that, she could feel Rachel's breath become even and she knew her wife's asleep.
..
Rachel opened her eyes and she tried to adjust them to the bright sunlight that's flooding her bedroom. She thought that she must have forgotten to pull the blinds down last night, that's why it's so bright, but as the events of the night came back to her, she remembered.
Quinn had come home.
She hurriedly looked around and did not feel the blonde's warmth beside her. Her heart beat picked up into a race as she tried to remember where she had put the divorce papers.
"Good morning, Rae," Quinn said softly as she watched the flustered Rachel who was sitting up on their bed. From her vantage point on the couch, she could see that Rachel was sleeping in her favorite singlet again. "You're so beautiful when you're sleeping."
"Quinn..." Rachel started. "What time is it?"
"It's still six in the morning," Quinn answered. "You look flustered, is there something bothering you? You look like you lost something."
"I...actually, there was a stack of term papers I was checking last night on my bedside table..."
"Oh, those," Quinn smiled subtly. "I'm sorry, Rae. I didn't know they were term papers, but I used them to wrap the tea leaves when I had to throw them out because I was making tea for your breakfast, speaking of which, aren't you hungry?"
Rachel looked at her guiltily and she didn't move. She just looked at Quinn with her big, brown eyes. Quinn stood up and walked up to Rachel.
"Rae, I know. I know I haven't exactly spelled the right wife for you, but, I want to change that. I've realized that I haven't been exactly paying attention to you and your needs, but I want to let you know that I love you, I love you and I am not letting you affix you damn signature under those term papers."
"You've seen it?" Rachel asked quietly. "The papers?"
"Of course, I did. And I am not angry at you for making that decision. I am angry at myself because I pushed you into making that decision," Quinn sighed. "Now I'm gonna pull you back and I'm gonna hold you close to me."
Rachel looked at Quinn with tears in her eyes. There was a vortex of emotions in the brown eyes, hope, fear, love. Quinn couldn't help herself but kiss Rachel fully on the lips.
For a few seconds they stayed like that. Quinn felt the need to pour all the love she's had for Rachel and she did so. When they pulled away, Rachel looked at Quinn skeptically.
"Is that what you came home for? Two thousand miles for a kiss?" Rachel asked.
Quinn smiled lovingly and grasped Rachel's face lovingly in both of her hands. "You are worth so much more than that, baby. So much more than that."
They leaned their heads together, so that their foreheads touch each other and smiled, looking at each other's eyes as if it was the first morning they had spent together.
"Breakfast is waiting for you," Quinn smiled lovingly. "So you can get on with work just fine, I made you vegan pancakes."
"Are you sure you're Quinn Fabray? First off, you woke up earlier than I did," Rachel joked.
"Believe me, I think I just came home. It's nice to be home again, Rae."
"It's nice to have you home, too."
..
Rachel turned the knob of their front door that night and she could see Quinn furiously typing on her laptop. She watched her blonde wife silently as Quinn's brows furrowed in concentration. She could see Quinn's face growl as she pressed a key far too long and she made her presence known.
"Hey," the stress on Quinn's face immediately faded and she stood up to take Rachel's shoulder bag from the brunette.
"Quinn, you don't have to do this. I mean, I wasn't seriously considering about having a divorce," Rachel smiled.
"Rae," Quinn sighed. "I wanna do this. I want to let you feel I love you."
"Quinn, believe me, I feel that love," Rachel smiled and latched her arms around Quinn's neck.
"On the other hand, how's your day?" Quinn asked softly, steering the conversation away from her and focusing it on the brunette.
"Great. Other than a few grammatically wrong compositions from my students, I had a pretty nice day," Rachel smiled as she started to go upstairs to get changed.
Dinner was filled with conversations between them and Quinn found it rather endearing to be like this. She and Rachel exchanged flicks and glances over their plate of luscious greens and peas.
"I was thinking," Quinn said. "If you want to...say, go out of town for a while?"
"Huh? Why?" Rachel said.
"Because lately, you've been working hard enough and I really think we could use a time off," Quinn smiled. "You like?"
"Mhm, that would be great. Where?"
"I was thinking Lima, Ohio...you know?" Quinn said. "Back in the rural places. Stuff. We can rent a cabin by the lake and pretend we're farmers."
Suddenly, before Rachel could even answer, the blonde's phone rang. Rachel stood up to retrieve it.
"Hello?" Rachel asked and a man's voice greeted her.
"Hey, this Quinn?" the man asked.
"No, it's...her wife," Rachel looked at Quinn, who stared back at her. "Hang on, I'll call her. May I know your name please?"
"Tell her it's Puck."
Rachel handed the phone to Quinn and the blonde took it gratefully. "Thanks babe," she smiled and planted a kiss on Rachel's cheek. Rachel nodded and Quinn moved near the sink and talk to Noah Puckerman.
"Hey, Noah. What's up?"
"Fabray, yup. Umm, I won't be taking long, but yeah, I got a buddy who's working on Lebanon's foreign affairs department and yes, Santana's in the Golan Heights earlier this year. It's all I found out but I'll keep on looking."
"Thanks a lot, Puck. I'm trying to look for Brittany, too."
"Why don't you try looking for her in Lima?"
"Yeah, Puck. I'm going to spend quality time with my wife out there," Quinn smiled lovingly at Rachel, who is no doubt listening to Quinn.
"On the lighter note, Quinn, how are you with your wife?"
"We're doing great, Puck. We're having dinner together."
"Yo, Fabs, Imma go now. Kitty's biting my ass already. Bye," Noah Puckerman ranted. Then there was a beep on the other line.
Quinn put the phone down and looked at Rachel, and then she smiled. Then, Quinn took her seat and started to continue eating her dinner.
"So, what was that all about?" Rachel asked, the hint of curiosity was in her voice.
"I met him when I was in Florida," Quinn said. "He's a nice man. Just a little not too, subtle."
"I see. What's so special about him?"
"His story," Quinn answered and smiled at Rachel.
"Uh-huh. You said to him you were looking for a Brittany?" Rachel asked silently while toying a pea around her plate.
"Yeah," Quinn said excitedly as if she had a secret to share to Rachel. "Let's finish eating, I have a story to tell you."
That night, Quinn and Rachel sat down on their couch, with Rachel lying on Quinn's lap, listening to the story of Santana and Brittany.
"Is it because of the story you came home to me?" Rachel whispered at Quinn.
"Yeah, it made me realize something," Quinn looked down lovingly at her wife. "You want to go to Lima? We could use a vacation, while I try to look for Brittany and ask a few locals, you know."
"I'll help you look for her," Rachel's smile lit up. "It would be a great thing, you know."
"Thanks, a lot, babe. I don't know what I'd do without you," Quinn placed a chaste kiss on Rachel's lips.
"You're welcome," Rachel smiled. "How about we go to bed now?"
..
Lima wasn't really a big town. Especially the place near Allen County and the junction to Interstate 75. Quinn drove through the streets and then she found Townsend Inn.
"Rae, this is it," she mumbled.
"Huh? What?" Rachel drawled. "Which is which?"
Quinn pointed at the inn's signage. "Townsend Inn. It's where Santana stayed four years ago. Brittany's house would be a short drive over."
Rachel smiled at Quinn. She secretly loved the look on Quinn's face now, the look that told her that there is no way in hell Quinn's not gonna nail the article she's writing. They drove a little more when Quinn stopped to ask for directions.
"Mister, can I ask you something?" Quinn said as she saw a man walk past them. At first, Rachel thought Quinn was going to ask about Brittany's house or something, but instead Quinn asked where they could rent some cabins by the lake.
"When you get to the bend between Jackson Pass and Kipling Road, turn right and it's a half-mile's drive there," the man instructed. "You'll know it when you see it."
"You said Jackson Pass, mister?" Quinn asked.
"Yeah, you heard me right," the man said.
"Mister, are there any houses near Jackson Pass?"
"There's only one, the Hurley's," he shrugged. "What? You spying or something?"
"No sir, we're just looking for someone who lives or lived here," Rachel said from the passenger's side. "We're sorry. We'll be going now."
And with that, she coaxed Quinn to drive past the man.
"Oh, honey, what do I do without you?" Quinn smiled as she kissed Rachel's fingertips. They rounded the bend and rented a cabin near the edge of the lake. It was secluded, warm and serene.
"I love this," Rachel smiled as they sat on the porch, looking at the lake water, which was turning pink due to the sunset.
"I love you," Quinn smiled lovingly.
"Tomorrow, are you going to go to the Hurley's?" Rachel's voice fluttered to the evening breeze.
"Yeah," Quinn smiled. "I will. What about you?"
"Wait here, for you to come home and take care of you," Rachel said proudly.
The next day, Quinn was waiting for the front door to open up for her. While waiting, Quinn can't help but stare at the hardwood floor of the porch. It's not that shiny, but Quinn could see that it was once beautiful. After knocking twice, someone opened for her. An old lady smiled at her. "Come in," she smiled.
"Good morning, ma'am. I am Quinn Fabray and I work for Schuester Literary Agency in New York and somehow, a story I've been following led me here," Quinn introduced herself.
"Please, have a seat," the lady offered her to take a seat on the couch. "Do you want some lemonade?"
"No, not really. II just want to ask a few questions," Quinn smiled reluctantly.
"Alright," the old woman smiled and took a seat across from Quinn. "I'm Beatrice by the way. Beatrice Hurley."
"It's nice to meet you," Quinn said. "So, Mrs. Hurley, I want to ask if, ever you knew the Evans?" Quinn asked. She was very careful to use Sam's last name since she figured out that if she's gonna ask stuff about Brittany, she's going to use Sam's last name since Sam is probably more known and Brittany would be Mrs. Evans.
"Evans? I haven't heard of that name," Beatrice said thoughtfully. Just then, an old man, presumably her husband came in. "Ed, do you know any Evans in this place?"
"Oh come on, Beatrice. You know that the only people I know here were you and the Wesley's family down the road," the man named Ed said and then he looked at Quinn. "Why you're asking, Bea?"
"This is Quinn," Beatrice said and Quinn stood up to shake Ed's hand.
"Ed Rutherford, nice to meet you," the old man smiled. He almost had a fatherly look on his face that Quinn started to remember her Dad. "I'm Beatrice's brother."
"Oh, I thought you were her husband," Quinn noted.
"No, I'm not. I'm sorry, we can't answer your question about the Evans living around town. We just came here two and a half years ago, when...Beatrice's husband died. Maybe you should try somewhere else. Perhaps the Townsend's inn. It's been here for almost two decades," Ed politely said.
"Oh, okay. I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Hurley, Mr. Rutherford. I'll be going," Quinn said and she stood up from the couch. "It's just that I really want to know about the Evans. I have a few questions to ask from them."
"It's alright. You don't bother us at all," Beatrice chimed in, and she smiled warmly before sharing a hug with Quinn. The blonde left the house and drove to Townsend Inn.
The wind chimes that were hanging by the door sounded as Quinn pushed the door open. She looked around and decided to approach the concierge behind the reception desk. "Mister, may I ask you something?"
"We offer suites, ma'am," he smiled.
"No, I don't wanna get a room, I just want to know something. Do you know the Evans that live near Jackson Pass?"
"Evans? I just moved here last month," he said sadly. "I'm sorry I can't help."
"You said the Evans?" a ghetto voice from behind her said. "Like Sam Evans?"
"Yeah, do you know them?" Quinn asked, her head snapping up to her back, only to lay her eyes on a black woman.
"Of course," a black woman held out a hand. "My name's Mercedes."
"Nice to meet you, Mercedes. I'm Quinn," Quinn accepted the hand and smiled. "Mind if we talk someplace?"
"Sure, there's a diner just outside, we can sit there," Mercedes said and they both made their way to the diner. When Mercedes and Quinn sat themselves on a booth, Quinn can't help but think about Santana, sitting in the same room, four years ago, waiting for her food to be served because she was wanting to spend the dinner with Brittany.
"Why do you want to know about the Evans?" Mercedes asked and Quinn snapped back to reality.
"I just...I just have a few questions for Mrs. Evans," Quinn explained. "It would be very helpful if you tell me where she is."
"Oh, Brittany," Mercedes said sadly. Suddenly Quinn could feel herself tense because she sensed that what Mercedes is about to say was bad news. When Quinn did not say a thing, Mercedes continued to speak.
"Well, Brittany was gone. She left town some two...no almost three years ago," Mercedes said sadly.
"What...what happened?" Quinn managed to ask.
"It was the winter of 2009 when they were all in a car crash," Mercedes said. "Ashley died on the spot, and Sam, he suffered serious brain damage," Mercedes sighed. "He died three weeks after."
Quinn sat there, dumbfounded. Brittany must have gone through a lot of pain. And...she wondered.
"Do you know where she is now?" Quinn asked.
"She's somewhere in California," Mercedes said. "San Pedro, the one near the coastline, I think."
"Are you sure about that?" Quinn growled.
"That's what she said about the place where she's moving. She said she believed that when people become alone and left out, they move near the water."
Quinn smiled to herself. Santana was living in Brittany's soul. "Is that all she said? I mean, did she make any calls to you or anyone? And why do a lot of people didn't know them?"
"A lot of people had left Lima during these past three years, and the Evans weren't really the nearest people to go to social fairs and stuff like that, save for horse rides and shows. Brittany never returned, called or anything. No one ever heard from her," Mercedes said.
"Oh," Quinn said. "Well, thank you for your time, Mercedes. I need to go now."
"You're welcome, Quinn. Come back anytime," Mercedes said and Quinn left the black woman in the diner. She drove down to the cabin and Rachel was waiting on the cabin porch for her.
"Hey," Rachel smiled. "How did your talk with the Hurley's go?"
"Hey," Quinn said tiredly and sat on the couch. "They didn't know any Evans. They weren't here when Brittany was here. I went to Townsend Inn and I met a black woman named Mercedes. She know about the Evans."
"And?" Rachel's said excitedly.
"They were all in a car crash," Quinn sighed. The happy look of Rachel's face instantly dropped and Quinn looked at her. "But Brittany's alive and well. She's survived."
"Really? Where is she?"
"She left town..." Quinn sighed. "And she moved to California, that's what Mercedes had said."
"Okay, so what do you wanna do now?" Rachel asked.
"Spend the entire time here with you," Quinn giggled and there was a look in her eyes that told Rachel they had to enjoy their time together.
"Yup, that would be great," Rachel smiled and kissed Quinn fervently on the lips.
..
Rachel was sitting on their bed that Friday afternoon, watching Quinn pack up a few clothes into her backpack. "You know you shouldn't forget the medicines I packed up for you. And your multivitamins, Quinn."
"Yeah, it's stashed in here," Quinn pointed at the small back pocket of her sack. "Don't worry, I won't be gone for too long. Just two days, Rae."
"I can't help it, Quinn. You know how it feels to me when you travel alone. Besides, I will miss your lady kisses, you know?" Rachel shrugged.
"I promise, I'll be back in a few days and you'll have all the lady loving you'd want, okay?"
"Okay," Rachel smiled sheepishly. "Can I have a hug before you go?"
Quinn hugged her wife tightly. "I love you babe," she whispered.
"Take care, okay?" Rachel whimpered.
"I will. I love you."
With that, Quinn left their room and cabbed down to the airport. She's got a long trip ahead to California.
..
The sun shone bright in California when the plane that Quinn was on landed on the airport. Clutching her black backpack, she strutted to the street, trying to find a motel where she could stay. When she found one, she quickly checked her phone, and texted Rachel that she's safe and good in California.
That same afternoon, Quinn picked up her way towards San Pedro Police Department. There weren't many people around, and there weren't many people in the place. "Hey," Quinn breathed out an airy tune as she asked a cop.
"Yes, how may I help you?" the cop asked.
"I am looking for someone, who lived here..." Quinn smiled. "Who do I need to ask help for?"
"Yo, Chang!" she yelled and a Chinese cop came out from Quinn's left, who was munching on a doughnut.
"Yup, Bestie?" the Chang cop stood in front of the policewoman, clearly unfazed by the commotion. "What do you need me for?"
"She's looking for someone," Bestie said and nodded towards Quinn. "You guys move your ass."
"Hey, I'm Mike," the Chang cop held out his hand. "Do you have the name of the person?"
"Yes, her name is Bri-"
"Come with me this way," Mike led her on and Quinn followed into another room. "What's her name by the way?"
"Her name is Brittany Evans," Quinn said.
"Brittany Evans, Tina," Mike turned to another Asian girl, who turned to type the name into a people search engine. Mike leaned low to look at the screen, and his fingers scanned the whole screen. Quinn also started to lean and peek on the computer screen so she can see the results.
They were all brunettes and none of them seemed to look like Brittany.
"Did you find her?" Mike turned to ask Quinn, but Quinn just sadly shook her head.
"No, she's not one of them."
"Sorry, then that would be very hard to find her. Don't worry, we'll try to do our best," Tina chimed in.
"Wait," Quinn held up her hand at the two cops. "Try Pierce. Brittany Pierce."
Mike sighed and he turned to Tina as the Asian girl was typing Brittany's name onscreen. The girl pressed the enter key and there were two results for the name. The other was a ginger, and the other was blonde-haired. Quinn gasped.
It was Brittany.
Quinn read the small profile and looked at Brittany's address. It's ten miles west of her hotel, somewhere that's on the coast. Quinn softly shook her head. It's late, and she needs to rest, but now, she's too...close.
She hailed a cab and drove to the western seaside of San Pedro. Quinn paid the cab and walked the rest of the distance from the road to the sandy beach, and she could make out the silhouette of a small house underneath some coconut trees against the darkening twilight.
She quickly stepped up the porch and knocked. The door opened for her almost instantly and she was met by blue eyes.
"Hi, good evening," Quinn mumbled as she awkwardly stood in front of the woman.
"Good evening, what brought you here?" she asked, somewhat skeptic and a little worreid.
"My name is Quinn Fabray and...and I have a few questions for you, about...about someone," Quinn explained. "About someone we believe you know, some four years ago, back in the summer of 2008."
At the mere mention of the year that Brittany had met Santana, Quinn could notice the tightening of the perfect set of jaws in front of her. "I don't know what you're talking about, you got the wrong person."
And with that, the door closed in front of Quinn's face.
"Look, I don't know what I just said, but if you are ready to talk about it, just give me a call, okay?" Quinn said, as she slipped her calling card under the front door. With one last look at the closed door, Quinn left the house.
..
"I found her," Quinn said out in her iPhone as she called Rachel. "I found her and she slammed the door right on my face. Can you imagine that, Rae?"
"Maybe she's just a little bit freaked out, you know. Like she was totally not ready for it. Maybe she'll call you tomorrow, so that won't be a bad thing and you both go out for lunch or something. Quinn, learn to take it real slow," Rachel said from the other line.
Quinn sighed deeply. "Alright, I'll try to wait it out tomorrow."
"Okay. I miss you already, Quinn."
"May I just remind my hot wife that I am in the opposite coast of the country, please?" Quinn snorted and stifled a laugh.
"Alright now, go to bed now, Quinn. Remember, you need to have enough sleep," Rachel said. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Rae. I love you."
"I love you Quinn."
"I love you more," Quinn chittered.
"No, I love you more..."
"Sing to me over the phone, please? I want to fall asleep to your voice," Quinn pleaded. She was laying on her bed and she really missed Rachel so much.
"Alright," Rachel said from the other line as she started to sing Without You by David Guetta across the phone.
And just like that, Quinn fell asleep to Rachel's voice, separated by thousands of miles from each other.
..
Quinn woke up to the annoying ringing on her phone. Someone she doesn't know was calling her and it seemed that someone was trying to contact her so bad because there were five missed calls from the same number.
"Alright, alright. I'm gonna pick you up, already," Quinn mumbled angrily as she picked up the phone call.
"Hello," Quinn said, her sleepy voice making her sound more of a zombie rather than an actual person.
"Is this Miss Fabray?" a female alto asked on the other line.
"Yes, speaking. May I know your name please?"
"Pierce, Brittany Pierce," as soon as the woman mentioned her name Quinn suddenly tensed up. She knew that this is it, that it is happening.
"I would like to take you for a cup of coffee this afternoon, Miss Fabray."
"Just say the time and place and I'll be there, okay?" Quinn said to sound as reassuring as possible. "Is that a deal?"
"Of course, it's a deal. I would like to meet you at the Moonleaf Cafe," Brittany said as she sounded calmer that ever. "It's a block away from the park. I'll meet you there at two-thirty in the afternoon."
Quinn walked along the streets that afternoon, keeping an eye for the said cafe. After a block of walking she had found it. It was situated on a corner of Landon Street and Maple Avenue. Quinn inhaled a dose of the salty air. Slowly, she pushed the glass door open and went inside.
The smell of cooking pastries and coffee permeated Quinn's nostrils as the hazel-eyed blonde gazed across the room, looking for the blue-eyed blonde. A few minutes later, she found Brittany sitting on the back part of the room, just beside a window. Quinn quickly paced across the room towards the other blonde and a few moments later, she was standing in front of Brittany.
"Miss Pierce?" she asked politely.
"Hello, good afternoon. I assume you must be Quinn Fabray," Brittany said silently, her alto voice almost dropping to a baritone.
"Yes, I am. May I take a seat?"
"Sure, you may," Brittany smiled.
"I...I want to know, look, I won't go running around in circles, Miss Pierce, but one question," Quinn said silently. "I want to know why you changed your last name? I mean, sure I don't wanna bring up the recent events in your marriage but I wa-"
"I changed my name, because I don't deserve to take Sam's name," Brittany stated flatly. "I...I don't know, after what happened in the summer of 2008..." she trailed off. "Never mind."
"I take that it's about Santana, isn't it?" Quinn's eyebrows raised pensively. She noticed the shock register on Brittany's face.
"Do...do you know her? Is she alright? Do you know where she's living?" Questions quickly poured out of Brittany's mouth.
"Relax," Quinn exhaled. "Look, I don't know her, but...I – I got a buddy who tipped me off about her being on Nat Geo for a few years ago and she's quitted or something. The last we knew about was she was in Golan Heights, earlier this year."
"Golan Heights? Isn't it a dangerous place? Isn't it?" Brittany said, although she was trying to keep the worry in her voice, she wasn't able to. "I'm sorry."
Quinn smiled at the idea. After four years, Santana still had that effect on her. Instead of saying something, Quinn just looked at the blonde woman tenderly. "I don't really know, Miss Pierce. That's the only thing we've heard about her. And frankly, Miss Pierce, Golan Heights isn't that bad."
"I can't help but worry," Brittany mumbled. "I can't help it."
"I wanna know about her," Quinn burst out. "I know your story. Now I want to know her."
Brittany looked at Quinn, her blue eyes piercing into Quinn's hazel ones. "I see. Now I understand why you wanted to know her. You want to know why she didn't let me have the chance to choose between her and my family."
"Believe me, there are a lot of things I want to know, but..."
"She knew that I would choose her," Brittany stated and there was an awkward dose of silence hanging through the air. Brittany swallowed thickly before continuing to speak. "She didn't give me the chance to choose because she knows I would choose her over Sam and Ashley. And she knows that if I chose to live with her, I know that I will dwell on the things I did. I would be haunted by my conscience, knowing I left my family."
Quinn sat in front of the blonde-haired woman, watching her silently as a smug smile played across her lips.
"It was never hard to fall in love with Santana. She was, in her own way, in her own person. She was the very perfect image of an individual. She moved freely, she was a free spirit. Falling for her was like falling into a gravity pit – you never stop to. You can't even stop to think what you were doing, whether it's right or wrong."
"Sam, did he ever knew about what happened?"
"I never mentioned Santana to a living soul, up until now – only with you," Brittany sighed. "I never mentioned Santana to Sam, especially. It's just that he always knew. Once, a letter from Santana came from the mail, some six months after she's left Lima, telling me she's being accepted in Nat Geo as a journalist, and that she's got a dog and her Chevy was being replaced with a new engine. She didn't tell me where she's living or anything and her letter was non-returnable. I read it in the afternoon in the kitchen and Sam walked in on me. He didn't ask or say anything. I guess he just knew it. The day he died, he never knew about Santana, never a thing."
Quinn didn't say anything, looking across the table to the window, making small circles across her side of the table.
"Miss Pierce, did you ever try to look for Santana?"
"I've always thought about it," Brittany smiled sadly. "But I never did anything. Too many times, I lost count on how many times I did it."
Quinn smiled subtly at the thought. "Naturally. I'm surprised you managed to never do it."
"Yes, I'm pretty much surprised myself, too."
"Did she ever leave you something, a phone number, an address, perhaps?"
"No, she never did. All she left me was her class ring. I don't even know where she graduated," Brittany clicked her tongue sadly, twiddled the ring on her ring finger, where Sam's wedding ring was supposed to be. "Her name was written inside it."
Quinn stared at her watch. "Miss Pierce, I'm afraid I have to go now, I would want to stay and chat, but I have to go and do a lot of things."
"It's alright, Quinn. I have to go pick up some greens, too," Brittany smiled. "Take care."
"Thank you, Brittany. I will."
Quinn smiled at her and left the restaurant, accidentally bumping into one of the Hispanic tourists that came into the room with an overly large camera slung on her neck.
"I'm sorry," a raspy voice apologized at Quinn.
"It's okay," Quinn smiled as she looked into the darkest pair of mocha eyes she had ever seen in her entire life. Quickly, she moved out of the way and hailed a cab right in front of the cafe. Casting one last cordial smile at the tanned Latina who just bumped her, Quinn sped away to her hotel room.
The Latina chuckled at herself. Sometimes, she does believe in the kindness of strangers. That hazel-eyed woman proved it. She wondered what her name was. She sighed softly to herself and ordered a cup of cinnamon latte. After being handed with her cup, the Latina sauntered across the room and made her way to the booths at the end corner, where she won't be disturbed but she could see the street. Moonleaf Cafe was one of the very few places she fell in love with when she first came into the place two days ago.
But she had noticed that someone seated on her favorite booth. Someone blonde and someone familiar.
She sauntered towards the blonde-haired woman. "Excuse me," her voice fluttered out and the woman turned her eyes on her.
They were as blue as ever. Still as blue as the deep ocean, still as radiant as the sky on a summer day. Still as beautiful...just like four years ago...back in the summer of 2008. The Latina drew a deep breath and smiled as her trained eye fell upon the ring on Brittany's fingertips.
"I believe you have my class ring with you."