Chapter 6

Trees, houses, and lights blurred into a collage of muted colors through the car window. Quinn strained to make out anything familiar, landmarks, favorite places in the dark. She almost wished Santana would slow down, and instead cruise the streets of their hometown. It struck her that the little city of Lima felt more like home than anywhere she'd ever lived, yet she didn't feel completely comfortable there. She felt disconnected and set apart from things, maybe it was because she didn't have a physical place in the town, no home, no job.

Her connection to Lima was through people that lived there, but Quinn had learned that human connections were tenuous, breaking often, under the slightest strain, never to be repaired. Her strongest links to Lima now were Sam and Santana. Santana was sort of a flight risk though, her connection to the town as thin as her own. There was always the knowledge that Santana could bolt without a word at any time. While Sam was a fixture in Lima, his family and business firmly entrenched, he too had proven himself to be just as capable of leaving Quinn behind. He'd done it three times now, once after high school when he enlisted, again when he retreated into himself, shutting down his emotions, becoming cold and unrecognizable, the shell of the boy she once knew after losing Brittany, and last when he got himself into that accident and slipped into a coma for months.

The coma couldn't be helped. It wasn't Sam's fault he was injured so seriously, but it was what he said before the accident, when he promised to cut her out of his life to appease Mercedes, that was the ultimate proof that even a long time friendship could come to an end without warning or discussion. If Quinn wanted Lima to be home for her with Beth, she'd have to make it one herself, find a way to build a life. She couldn't rely on any person to do that for her. She had to find the strength and the means to do it on her own.

"Are you ever going to speak again or have you given it up for good?" asked Santana.

"Huh what? Oh sorry. I was thinking," said Quinn as she watched the street lights whizz by outside the car window.

"About your near run in with Dr. Julian? I still say you should have faced him, held your head up high. You have no reason to hide from that man."

"It's complicated," Quinn responded softly.

"Code for you were scared." Santana shot Quinn a knowing look. Her friend liked to think herself an expert on human behavior.

"I'm not scared of Julian. I just don't feel ready for the drama. You know?" If she could avoid everyone but Sam for the foreseeable future that would fine with her, she didn't look forward to dealing with all the questions and judgmental stares.

Not that Quinn thought Julian would actually cause a scene. She was pretty sure he'd just brush by her in disgust or worse have no reaction at all. It hurt to feel like nothing, to be virtually invisible. Julian had been giving her that treatment for months.

"We're on our way to crash Sam's birthday party where you are finally going to tell the man you love him after stringing him along for like bazillion years, and you're not ready for drama?"

"Well I'm not ready for the Julian kind of drama. And I never strung Sam along."

"The man's been following you around like a puppy since you guys were teens. You must have done something to earn that level of devotion."

Quinn hated the idea that Sam had been pining for her for years, putting his heart on hold in wait. Not only was it completely untrue, Sam had gotten married twice since they were a real couple, but also it was too sad to contemplate, as if she had emotionally crippled him somehow when they broke up in high school. Sam was stronger than that, people didn't give him enough credit. He hadn't been wasting his life hoping to reunite with her. If anything it was the opposite. Sam seemed to do more with his life once they were apart.

"I never asked Sam to do anything. If he still cared for me all these years I'm going to consider myself lucky, but honestly Santana, Sam had moved on from me, a few times over."

"Except now he's ready to come back around to you. Funny how life can be full circle like that."

Quinn leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and smiled. "Could just finally be our time to be together."

So many things were in their way, but Quinn couldn't stop from feeling hopeful about the future, one she could share with Beth and Sam.

"I'd put money on it. The stars must be aligned for you guys. You bring him back from a prolonged coma, he saves you from the psych ward, not to mention that gorgeous baby you created by some miracle. It is like a big neon sign is glowing above the two of you saying Go Quam! Go Quam!" Santana chuckled.

Quinn turned her nose up. How bizarre that complete strangers were thinking about her love life and concocting smush names for them. "Ugh you know about the facebook page too?"

"Yep and I 'liked' it." Santana laughed. "Gave it thumbs up all the way. I'm rooting for you guys, always have been."

"Thanks Santana."

Nice that at least one person thought she and Sam deserved a chance. Quinn was well aware that most of their friends and family would be against them. Even her own father had subtly tried to remind her about the bonds of marriage. As if she didn't know the reality of the situation. Sam's marriage had weighed heavily on her mind for months. She didn't like the idea of breaking up a couple either, but the facts were Sam didn't remember Mercedes and didn't have feelings for her. Why should be he be forced to stay in a relationship he didn't want? He could be happier with her, making up for lost time, instead of being trapped in a loveless marriage. There was that other troubling issue though. Sam's memory loss could be temporary. Quinn couldn't help but worry that one day Sam could wake up and remember it all and resent the choices he had made.

"Did you know I used to give Sam advice about how to win your heart back when he was in high school?" asked Santana.

"Really? He talked to you about me?" That was sweet. Sam had cared that much to plan ways to impress her. No wonder they had such a romantic relationship, he had thought about it every step of the way.

"Any boy that serenades you under the stars is a keeper."

Quinn could still picture Sam, standing in front of her in the dimly lit science lab, the hanging model of the solar system above their heads as he sang loud enough to attract attention of other students in the hall, or even worse a teacher, but not caring if he did.

"That was incredible, like an old movie." Quinn sighed, rolling herself up in the memory.

It was one of the top ten moments of her life, not that she kept count of those sorts of things, but she did have a mental hope chest filled with all her best and most cherished experiences. Sam singing to her was something she would never forget.

"I'd like to think I had a hand in inspiring that gesture." Santana looked over at Quinn, flashing a grin, before turning her attention back to the road. "Still wish I had video footage. It would make excellent blackmail material."

"Sam has a nice voice, and he plays the guitar too."

The music was almost like a little secret they shared. He had told her that he never sang or played again after they had broken up all those years ago. Maybe if they made it through this and landed together, as a family, he'd feel like singing again.

"Also piano right?" asked Santana.

"I'm not sure," replied Quinn.

All those night sitting on the porch making up songs, they had never really talked about his interest in music. She had never even thought to ask him about his guitar playing. She had been selfish, like most teens, only interested in her own hopes and dreams. Now all these years later, she wondered what made Sam pick up the guitar. Did he practice it for hours in his bedroom? He was quite good, yet no one seemed to know he played, but her. What made him keep his music inside?

"Puck said Dwight had them taking music lessons since before they could talk. Dance lessons too."

"That explains a lot," said Quinn almost to herself. She was losing focus on Santana, her friend's chatter fading into the background.

Mental images of Sam were pulling her away from the present and into the realm of memory. She could see them dancing, shadows of their younger selves floating across her mind. So much of their time together was spent in each other's arms, gently swaying to music. It was the foreplay of youth, when sex wasn't yet an option, but closeness was craved all the same. Nothing had felt better than to be held by him back then. The way he kept her steady with his strong hands on her back, the way his chest grazed hers, and that smile, as he looked into her eyes, sending shivers through her entire body. Quinn never knew another person could make her feel so much, until Sam, and in his arms was the closest thing to perfect she had ever felt.

Fifteen and so nervous about being with a boy that she outwardly hated, but secretly wanted, that was so popular and beautiful, that Quinn knew she had no right to feel anything for him. He would never seriously go for a girl like her. And he hadn't. Taking her on date that Puck had arranged, probably under threat of bodily harm because Sam had pretty much ignored her at school, like all the other guys, Quinn still couldn't help but hope that maybe, there might be something more. Then under the twinkling lights of the school gym, he was all lips and blond hair that fell into his eyes, and she was hidden in her black coat she wouldn't take off because she was insecure in her tight red dress, it happened. For a moment the real world fell away, and magic surrounded him, and it was then Quinn knew how Cinderella must have felt, suddenly being noticed, and getting a chance to dance with her prince. If ever there were a prince in Lima, it was Sam Evans. Once they were together, he never failed to make her feel like she was living a romantic fairytale. She knew now that not all girls get loved like that.

Santana's voice broke through the memories, forcing Quinn back to the real world. "Sam thought you were the one, you know? He told me that when he was about 17."

Quinn let Santana's words settle in her mind, completely in awe that Sam had felt something so huge at that age. "I can't believe Sam talked to you so much about his feelings."

"Sam used to confide in me about many things. At one time we were close. I sort of miss that."

Quinn looked over at Santana when she heard a touch of sadness creep into her voice. "Maybe you can have a second chance with him too. Renew that friendship."

All these months of drama had to be good for something. They all could get a second chance with Sam and this time they'd do things right and not take anything for granted. Maybe they had to go through losing him to the coma to get to this place of reunion and renewal. Quinn certainly felt a stronger connection to Sam now, and it wasn't solely because of their baby. She'd felt his absence acutely when he was sick, finally realizing just how important and present Sam had been in her life over the years. When he came back to them, it was against all odds, truly a blessing, and Quinn had felt like a dark cloud had been lifted from her life.

Sam had brought more to her world than she had ever realized. His friendship and support were things she had grown to count on, he gave her strength when giving up seemed like her best option, he encouraged her to still follow her dreams even ones that she had long since deferred. He had held her through the happy, the pain, and even through anger, never letting her go, even when he didn't agree with her choices. He never shunned her, or gave up on her. He didn't let her mistakes or lapses in judgment color his relationship with her. They had made it through anything and everything, their friendship enduring longer than any romance. That was simply incredible and invaluable, something rare and definitely unexpected, especially after all she had put him through. In essence, what they had was love, pure and true.

Quinn's thoughts wandered to Mercedes, a pain seizing in her chest as she pictured the girl so sad, and weak looking, sitting vigil by Sam's side. Love was there too, subsisting through the dwindling hope, and the piles of guilt and regret. As much as Quinn would have liked to dismiss what Sam and Mercedes had, chalk it up to Sam having a protracted rebound from a very broken heart, she couldn't. It made her angry when she thought about all the ways Mercedes had hurt Sam, mentally and physically, in such a short time. She wanted to punish her for stealing precious time from Sam's life, but she knew she was in no position to judge, she had hurt Sam too, probably more than Mercedes ever had, or ever could. So Quinn tried to squash those feelings of anger and dig deep for some compassion for the girl. She knew Mercedes was looking for a new start with Sam, just as they all were. Quinn just wasn't sure if Mercedes was going to get one. Life was cheating Mercedes out of her second chance with him, and Quinn wasn't sure if that was a tragedy or poetic justice.

"We should totally make a plan to get together, have dinner. You, Sam, and me, we can reminisce over old times. Sounds good right?" asked Quinn.

"Yeah it sounds fine, except you're forgetting about that little pit bull Sam is married to. You think she's going to sit back and let that happen?" Quinn opened her mouth to respond by Santana continued, almost in full on rant mode. "I swear she grates my nerves. Can her voice be any more irritating? It's this sickening cross between Marilyn Monroe and Minnie Mouse. Is she trying to be sexy or cute? Totally trying too hard."

Quinn had to laugh at Santana's passion on the subject of Mercedes. She obviously had spent way too much time thinking about the girl. "You never told me what Mercedes did to tick you off so much."

Santana shrugged. "She's got a big mouth and a devious mind, yet she runs around Lima like little miss perfect princess. It's just not right. She's pulled the wool over too many eyes. Like Puck's."

"And Sam's," Quinn added quietly.

Quinn couldn't help but think back to that awful message Mercedes had left another man on her wedding day and then had the nerve to go ahead and marry Sam without breaking a sweat. Mercedes must've been one hell of a con woman in LA, because she fooled everyone that night. Quinn doubted that anyone would have ever suspected that Mercedes had been in love with someone else the entire time.

Santana nodded in agreement. "I still can't believe he married that chick. Rachel Berry I could see, she's smart and gorgeous and marrying into the Berry family would score him major points with Mama Sue since her company frequently does business with one of Rachel's dads. But Mercedes? That social climbing twit does nothing for him."

If Quinn hadn't spent time with Sam during his marriage she would've been thinking just like Santana, but watching Sam after the wedding, and that month they spent together at the Beacon, Quinn knew for certain what Mercedes had done for Sam. She'd made him happy. Despite all her shortcomings and all those heinous selfish mistakes Mercedes had made, it was that one simple fact that made it impossible for Quinn to hate her. Seeing Sam truly happy was a wonderful thing. Quinn wouldn't want to wish that away from him, all she could do was hope that one day he'd realize that better options for happiness were within his reach. Last year at the Beacon, Sam wasn't ready to consider any other possibilities for his heart, but now, by some strange twist of fate, he was open and willing to walk away from Mercedes and toward something else.

"Julian is a world renowned doctor and in tight with the Evans family. Doesn't seem like she needs to climb any ladders at all, she's already a part of their world. Unlike me, the perpetual outcast."

"How are you an outcast? You can have any man you want. Doors just open for you."

"I wish I could be appreciated for something other than how I look," said Quinn as she slumped down into her seat.

"You are a talented singer. Everyone knows it."

"If I'm so talented why did I only manage to have one hit? I will be a has been forever."

"Okay stop right there." Santana took her hand off the wheel and held it up in front of Quinn's face. "What's with the descent into self-pity?"

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm just finally facing up to the facts about how everyone sees me. Men only want me because they like how I look, no other reason."

Not that this was some major epiphany. Quinn had figured out that people, men in particular, responded to looks from a young age. Her mom reinforced that knowledge by correcting every mistake on her face and body with either surgery or extreme dieting. Layer by layer, her identity was stripped, Lucy was replaced by Quinn, her blond hair brightened, her waist whittled, her nose surgically altered. There was a time when Quinn used to look in the mirror and not recognize the face reflecting back at her. She might not have been able to control her physical appearance, her mom kept tight control on that domain, but internally she rebelled, rejecting her mother's requests for her to participate in social activities and instead she focused on her studies and her singing. All the things inside herself that set her apart, that would make the world see that she was good enough, that she was worth knowing despite how she looked on the outside.

Ultimately it seemed her mother was right, no one cared about her talents or her mind, they were only interested in how she looked. So Quinn came to the realization that things worked better for her if she just played the part of who they wanted her to be. She made some friends, found a chosen family in Julian and Puck, fell in love, and even got the chance to pursue her musical dreams. At least they were interested in her for a short while, before tossing her aside. A little time in the spotlight was better than no time at all.

"You know that's not true. Everyone knows you're smart too. Didn't you graduate first in your class?"

"And what do I have to show for that? One semester of community college, a mediocre music career, and no home address. My own daughter doesn't even want me."

Beth never seemed to find comfort in her arms, always crying until fatigue or the realization that she had no other options, forced her to calm down. Since the day she was born, Beth had seemed genuinely displeased that she was her mother. Quinn knew she was being ridiculous, projecting her own self-doubts and feelings of inadequacy onto the infant. Dr. Hill had spoken to her about it numerous times. Even still it was a feeling Quinn just couldn't shake.

"Girl you need to stop. Don't make me pull over," threatened Santana.

"Santana, I'm fine really," insisted Quinn, praying Santana would just let the subject drop. "Let's just get to Sam."

"You don't sound up to it at all. What's going on? You went into that store all excited about tonight and you came out looking like you want to hide under your coat. Did Julian do something to you? Do I need to go and kick his ass?" Santana edged up in her seat, getting amped over the prospect of beating down Julian, as if that were possible, the man was in great shape.

Santana hadn't made her disappointment in Julian and his actions after finding out Beth wasn't Puck's daughter a secret. Santana thought Julian had failed Quinn, let her down by not loving her enough to stick with her and be the father figure he always claimed to be. Sometimes Quinn agreed. She wished Julian could have found a way to forgive her and still love her, mostly so she wouldn't have felt so alone all those months, maybe she would have held on to her sanity with some support from the man that felt more like a dad than her own father.

"I didn't even talk to Julian remember? It's just this guy," Quinn admitted reluctantly, not wanting to get into a long conversation about something that was nothing.

"What guy?" asked Santana.

"This guy in the store with these really intense eyes."

"Okay? This conversation is making less sense."

Quinn sighed, pulling her hood back off her head. "When I was hiding from Julian, this guy came up to me in one of the aisles, started talking to me, and then grabbed me and kissed me."

"Please tell me you punched him."

Quinn shook her head. "I didn't. I was too stunned. It happened so fast, one minute he was saying something, then he was kissing me, then he was walking away, saying I owe him one."

"Owe him for what? For copping a feel? You need to press charges."

"I don't even know who he was. Just some random guy, muscular, dark hair, blue eyes, really striking eyes."

"Who the hell was that?"

"It was someone I had never seen before, but now that I think about it, he seemed like he knew me."

The way he looked at her, his blue eyes taking her in, sizing her up, as if he were appraising her worth, made her uneasy. She felt naked and on display in front of him.

"Probably from TV. You're so exposed on the news that every wacko thinks you're their fantasy date. We need to call the police. He could be a stalker."

"I think he was harmless, truly. But it just got me to thinking how things like that always happen to me. I get random comments, marriage proposals from strangers. I haven't paid for a drink, since I started drinking, and none of that's about me. It's just about this shell I exist in." Quinn stared down at her lap trying to ignore the sting of tears behind her eyes. There was no point in getting emotional over something she couldn't change, but it still bothered her nevertheless.

"You can't help how you look Quinn. So many women would kill to be in your shoes."

The saying the grass is always greener definitely rang true in this case. Any woman that dared to swap places with her would be begging for her old life back in less than a day. Being followed by cameras, scorned by half the town, except the men, they still liked her, openly announcing their support to her boobs instead of looking her in the eyes. A woman that walked in her shoes would know the ugly truth, that there's nothing pretty about being devalued and treated like a mannequin built for some man's entertainment.

"And I would love to be in theirs, so I could be appreciated for my mind instead. I'm not a bimbo you know?" Quinn blurted out almost angrily, hating the tears that had started to fall down her face.

"I know, and Sam knows that too," Santana said softly, glancing quickly over at Quinn.

Santana didn't know how lucky she was. The people of Lima might have had her pegged as a scheming gold digger, but at least they knew she was smart enough to pull off a crazy plot. Quinn doubted the residents would suspect her capable of any such treachery, as if creative thinking was somehow out of her depth. Not that she wanted to add any more notoriety to her resume, being called a crazed baby killer was bad enough, but it would be nice if people could see her as more than a brainless slut. Somewhere along the way they all had forgotten the girl she used to be, probably distracted by her window dressing, her increased chest size and her penchant for wearing revealing dresses, but whatever the reason they only seemed to see the superficial when it came to her. No one bothered to look any deeper.

"I always felt out of place when I went to D&E functions with Puck, all the wives constantly looked down on me and clutched their husbands' arms so possessively. As if I was going to try to steal them away or something. They would rarely talk to me, and when they did it was about fashion or the weather, like that's all I know about. You know I speak French, pretty close to fluently, and I'm really good at history. I love reading about events of the past."

"I know you're a nerd." Santana smiled as she focused on the road. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

"That's just it. I feel like I have to prove myself constantly. It was so hard when I was with Puck while he was running D&E, I was so afraid he would wake up one day and feel like he was living with a moron. I used to read all the financial journals to keep up with the latest developments so we'd have something to talk about. Do you know he was shocked the first time I brought up a business related topic? Shocked. He was supposed to love me and know me better than anyone else and he was surprised that I could understand the basic principles of economics. I was outstanding in math and science. I could have been a doctor or a stockbroker if I wanted to be." She sniffled.

"Just proves that Puck wasn't the man for you. Maybe he was looking for a pretty trophy to hang on his arm and not an intellectual equal," said Santana handing Quinn a tissue.

"We've known each other for so long, been through so much together, but it is like something changed. Once we both moved back to Lima, it was like he saw me as a different person." Quinn dried her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. "It hurts that I wanted a future with him and he didn't even think much of me, that he couldn't see my potential."

"Sam does though right? He sees your potential?"

"He's my biggest fan. I know that now. I always took him for granted, thought he was just being nice with all his supportiveness because he wanted me back or he was guilty about some things that happened between us, but now I know, he was being honest. I think he does look at me and see a capable woman."

"And that's why you're going to go up to him tonight and look him in the eyes and tell him all that and all the rest. Time to let him know Quinn. No more holding back."

"I know and I'm ready," said Quinn trying to pull herself together and regain her confidence. Sam wasn't like all the other men in her life, he was special, he loved her for who she was inside. She just had to focus on that, and everything else would fall into place.

"Good because it's show time. Don't let him see your face." Santana rolled down her window, letting a rush of cold air into the warm car. Quinn pulled her hood back over her head, and pressed herself as far back into the shadows of the car as she could. "Daley they got you playing guard dog tonight?" teased Santana.

"Hi Ms. Lopez," said the dark haired man as he leaned his head out of the booth at the entrance of the Evans property and closer to the car window. "Yep I'm working the gate. Figured since Mr. Evans and Ms. Beiste are out of town and won't need a driver, I'd help out down here. We all want this party to go perfectly."

"We all love Sam. So nice they are throwing this party for him, which reminds me I gotta get in there, don't want to be late and wreck the surprise," said Santana pointing toward the large closed gates before them.

"Uh yeah, let me just check the list. Mrs. Evans is insisting we only let people on the list in," said Daley a bit muffled as he rifled through some papers in his guard booth. "Don't want any crashers, know what I mean?"

Santana chuckled a bit uneasily. "Sure do know. Daley did you get a new hair cut?"

Quinn watched Daley look up in surprise and then turn a deep shade of red. He clearly had a big crush on Santana. "Nope it's the same way I always wear it."

"Must be the moonlight, because your eyes look so blue," said Santana lowering her voice to an almost seductive level.

"Thank you Ms. Lopez. Your eyes look like moons too." He ran his hands through his hair nervously. "I mean…"

"Aren't you sweet? You better remember to save a dance for me later tonight."

"I don't know if I'll actually be attending," stammered Daley.

"You mean to tell me that Mercedes isn't letting the staff come to the party? You guys have known Sam longer than she has."

"We're invited and we're rotating shifts so we can go, but I'm not sure if I'll be there, I feel sort of weird because Mr. Evans doesn't remember me, like he does all the others."

Quinn couldn't help but feel a little badly for the man. Daley and Sam had a good rapport before the accident. Sam had personally recommended him for the job. Although she hadn't spent much time at the Evans mansion in the past year, she still felt a connection to the people that lived and worked there. Quite a few nights at the Beacon, Sam had told her stories about his life at the house. Marrying Mercedes had moved him away from the only home he'd ever known. Sam had never acted like he minded the change before, but at the Beacon, Quinn could easily tell Sam was a little homesick.

"You've been driving him around now right?" asked Santana.

Daley nodded. "I even picked him and Ms. Fabray up earlier this afternoon and brought them back to Lima."

Quinn tried to will herself invisible, in the hopes that Daley wouldn't peer inside the car further and recognize her.

"See he trusts you," said Santana reassuringly, patting Daley on the hand. "He told you to keep the fact that you drove Ms. Fabray a secret right?"

"Yeah he did. And being the dummy that I am I just spilled the beans to you."

"No. I already knew Daley. You didn't spill anything. You're a good guy and Sam knows that. And just to be safe I'm going to remind him of that when I see him tonight, speaking of which I better go, just need you to open the gates a peep so I can get through."

"Sure thing Ms. Lopez. Anything for you." He grinned widely as he turned to back into the booth to open the gates.

"Good. Don't forget to save me that dance," said Santana as she rolled up her window with a satisfied smile.

"You think he bought that?" asked Quinn.

Daley was a little goofy, but the man was packing serious heat. He couldn't be that gullible. Dwight trusted him with his life.

"Oh we are so in."

The tall iron gates started to squeak and grind as they slowly opened. Santana inched the car forward waiting for the moment when the entrance would be wide enough to drive through. Halfway there the grinding noise stopped. Both Quinn and Santana jumped at the sudden tapping on the window.

Santana let down her window and plastered on her smile. "Something wrong Daley?"

"I'm sorry Ms. Lopez but I can't let you in. You're not on the list. In fact there's a note that specifically says not to let you through the gates."

"Where? Let me see that," said Santana yanking the clipboard from the man's hand.

Quinn leaned closer, still being sure her face was hidden to read the paper in Santana's hand. There was a long list of typed names, all the guests expected for the party, and at the bottom of the page in bold red letters it said: "Under no circumstances must Santana Lopez be allowed into the house. She is not a part of this event."

"That little bitch!" Santana muttered under her breath,

"Take it easy Santana. It just wasn't meant to be. We can go back to the suite and hang out, girl's night," whispered Quinn so Daley wouldn't hear.

"The hell we will. I'm not letting that little girl get the final say on this one. I'll be right back," said Santana opening the door and getting out of the car."

"Santana where are you going?" Quinn hissed leaning toward the driver side window.

"Just give me a minute," she said as she left Quinn's line of sight.

Nothing good ever happened when Santana got like this, so single minded that all rational thought got pushed out of her brain. Quinn was so tempted to jump out of the car and pull Santana back, force her to think things through, but she didn't, because a part of her was praying that by some miracle this time Santana's plan would work, and they'd get inside. She wanted to see Sam desperately.

"Ok let's go," said Santana as she breathlessly got back into the car.

"Are we heading back to the Beacon?" asked Quinn, her heart starting to pound.

She'd come too far tonight to turn back, she had to talk to Sam and tell him how she felt before she lost her nerve. If she let herself think too hard about her plan for the night, she was pretty sure she would back out. What exactly was the point of spilling her heart to a man that she couldn't be with? Seemed like an exercise in torture, something neither of them needed after the year they'd had. Yet Santana had made a valid point earlier. Life was short and regardless of where they ended up relationship wise, Sam needed to know he was loved.

"Nope. Through the gates."

Quinn looked at Santana, amazed as they drove through the now open iron gates. "What did you do?"

"I just gave the man something he's being wanting a long time." Santana looked quite pleased with herself.

"Santana oh my God did you? Did you?" Quinn raised her eyebrows suggestively. "In the guard booth?"

"Eww gross." Santana made a face. "I did not. I'm not Nurse Mercedes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean. You're the one that told me."

"I never said..."

"Between you and Puck," continued Santana cutting Quinn off. "I pretty much figured it out on my own. Mercedes was giving Sam some dirty medicine in that hospital room, which is just wrong, the doors don't even lock."

Quinn's stomach churned at the imagery. It was bad enough she had to deal with the little Sam had actually admitted to doing with Mercedes, but now Santana was taking her mind places she didn't want to go. Dealing with the fact that Sam most likely had sex with Mercedes in the hospital was difficult enough without thinking about the details of the act. Although maybe she was overreacting, Sam had pretty much denied it, however men did tend to understate sexual encounters when they were trying to get lucky. And Sam had certainly been trying hard last night, so incredibly hard. A shiver ran through Quinn's body as she flashed back to Sam all over her at the hotel the night before. They had been so close to something incredible when his stupid wife got in the middle of it.

Quinn sighed. What did she expect messing with a married guy? The wives always wrecked things, the side effects of extramarital liaisons, which was why Quinn always stayed clear of unavailable men, and that wasn't going to change now. She wasn't going there with Sam until he was totally free. Nothing physical, just friends, strictly buddies. That's it. She'd just have to remind herself to avoid looking into his eyes, or catching a glimpse of his lips, and she never could touch him again, not even a hug. No contact at all. A frown crept over Quinn's face. This was going to be so hard. Quinn had missed Sam so much. All she wanted was to hold him and never let him out of her sight again. How was she ever going to maintain a platonic relationship with him when every part of her wanted to be with him?

"What exactly did Puck tell you?"

"Don't worry Quinn. We're in. Time to go get your man, make him forget all about his skanky nurse."

"What's all this?" asked Quinn looking out the window at the crowd of people gathered in the Evans circular drive. They were corralled behind thick ropes along the sides of the main walkway that led to the front door. It looked more like a premiere in LA than a birthday party.

"That would be the media circus. Again makes me wonder why they're letting a child call the shots for the family?" Santana pulled into a parking spot at the end of the driveway and turned off the car.

"Mercedes invited them here?" asked Quinn, surprised by just how much control Mercedes had over things at the mansion. Where was Dwight raising a stink about meddling women? Why was he letting Mercedes run things at his house?

"Puck said Mercedes thought it was better to give them limited access instead of letting them swarm the outside gates harassing guests. So the media will be let in later to the party for some interviews and photo ops."

"Mercedes does have a point. Controlling them could be a good thing," said Quinn, a little impressed by Mercedes's forethought. Quinn had been harassed enough the past few months by the media to know just how intrusive they could be. This did seem like a good way to appease them.

Santana looked over at Quinn as if she had sprouted two heads. Clearly she didn't agree with Mercedes' plans. "Did everyone forget that Sam has amnesia? We are going to sic the press on a still recovering man?"

"Sam was born into this life. He knows how to handle scrutiny. So many times I wished he were around to help me deal."

"Ah damn! I forgot you're completely famous now. If those vultures over there see you, it'll be on. You keep your head down and say nothing. Keep that hood up, and those shades on. No one can recognize you or we're screwed."

Quinn put on her sunglasses and adjusted her hood and coat around herself. "Okay. Should we go now?"

"Just one more thing. Does your crazy beauty magic work on women? Because Becky is working the door and we have to get by her next."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the thought of dealing with Becky. "Becky hates me. She was always so rude when I came to the house."

"She hates everyone. That woman has a permanent scowl. Okay time for a new plan," said Santana, turning in her seat to face Quinn, looking serious and determined.

"Did you actually have a plan before? I kind of thought you were playing it by ear."

Santana glanced at her hair in the rearview mirror, smoothing down the straight black strands. "Yah. Improvisation was the plan."

Quinn groaned. "What's plan B?"

"Don't know yet, I hoped you'd help me come up with something."

"Someone's coming. Get down," said Quinn grabbing Santana's arm and pulling her down lower in the car.

The lights from a passing car flooded their interior. Quinn prayed they wouldn't be spotted so soon, they hadn't even gotten inside the place yet. The car parked a few feet away from them and a few moments later a short slender female got out of the passenger side.

"Is that Rachel?" asked Santana in a whisper. Quinn nodded. She was pretty sure it was.

Then a man stood up in front of the driver's side of the car, his face hidden in the shadows. Suddenly he turned to face his female companion, his face bathed in the light from a nearby lamppost.

"And is that?" Santana asked, easing her head up to get a better look.

"Artie!" Quinn exclaimed loudly, shocked to see him standing just a few feet away.

Quinn and Santana looked at each other and grinned. "Plan B!" They yelled in unison.

And just like that, Quinn knew Sam was going to have a birthday he would never forget.