Chapter 2

Something was definitely off about the new girl. Santana's Mexican third eye was telling her something was not quite right.

Lots of things about her were right of course. She could actually sing, so it wasn't that. Plus she did actually seem to like Berry, which as twisted as that seemed, was not naivety, but in fact free choice. She made it clear she thought Puck was an ass-hat, which of course he was, so she had impeccable judgement and she was actually okay with Artie and Mercedes, so neither racist nor ableist, if that was even a word. Still, something wasn't quite right and it bugged the shit out of her that she didn't know because normally she did.

Santana wanted to talk to her alone and so she followed her into the girls bathroom one recess for a heart-to-heart. Quinn, it appeared actually seemed to want to use the bathroom for its intended purpose unlike fifty percent of girls who just went in because their friends were going in and thirty percent of those were just going to fix their makeup.

Santana waited for the blonde to finish by freshening up at the basins.

Quinn emerged and walked over. "Hey Santana." She nodded into the mirror.

"Hey," the Latina replied. She was about to suggest Quinn join her and Brit at the Lima Bean after school but before she could, the door opened and three of her team mates from the Cheerios walked in.

Quinn looked up and spun around immediately. She instantly recognised the three girls and the plastic cups they held in their hands.

"So this is how it's going to be," Quinn sighed. She glanced at Santana who seemed to be maintaining a diplomatic silence and avoiding any possible eye contact. Quinn's brow furrowed slightly.

"We warned you what would happen." The middle one again. Did the three of them actually come joined at the hip?

"Are you like interchangeable if one of you breaks or something? Oh, no. I just realised. You have to do everything together because you all share the same solitary brain cell and it's impossible to think or do anything independently without the other two attached."

Santana actually laughed and then met the hard stare of the middle one.

"I had to throw away my favourite pair of gym shoes after the last time. That's totally your fault and you need to pay for that."

"I'd offer to reimburse you, but I know you don't actually buy them because Coach Sue does everything for you guys. Does she wipe your asses for you too, or are you actually able to do that unsupervised?" Quinn was on a roll.

"You are totally going to pay for that, smart ass." The one on the left spoke up.

Quinn looked at Santana. "Aren't you going to do something about this?"

Santana looked at the blonde. "None of my business."

Quinn shook her head. "I thought you were the team captain and they're sophomores!"

Santana was well aware of her status and the tightrope she walked between glee on one side and cheerleading on the other. Ever since Coach Sylvester had declared war on the glee club, she'd had to maintain her neutrality or suffer the consequences.

The lack of response angered the blonde.

"So this image of you being a heartless bitch and walking around like you own the place is completely fake? You're really going to let this happen? You're going to forsake the responsibility of being captain in order to be popular with a bunch of children who have nothing better to do than try to intimidate people?" The blonde shook her head. She turned back to the cheerleaders. "I don't give a crap what you do. You can throw that in my face but it still won't make anyone actually respect you. One day you'll be mature enough to recognise fear and respect are not the same thing and honestly, no matter what you do, I'll neither respect nor fear you. So go ahead and give it a shot, but know that if you do, one of these days, I'll catch you on your own, with no witnesses around and we'll see who really is scary then." She made a move towards the middle one who stepped back slightly.

"I'm not afraid of you either," she yelled and threw the icy drink over Quinn. It missed her face for the most part, but went down her white shirt.

One of the other two was about to throw hers, but found Santana had a grip on her wrist.

"Enough!" She growled. "You made your point."

The girl looked like she might argue, but changed her mind when she saw anger in her captain's eyes.

"Pour the other two down the basin and then get out."

They did as they were told and then left.

Santana took a handful of paper towels and held them out to the blonde who was still standing glaring at her and dripping all over the floor at the same time.

Quinn smacked her hand away. "Leave me alone."

The Latina wasn't known for her patience and would normally have flipped but something held her back from doing that.

"Fuck you," she spat out. Reaching to pick them up from the floor.

"That your idea of an olive branch?"

"I don't know what your problem is, but you started this with them. You shouldn't have interfered last week."

Quinn walked to the basin and ran some water then stripped off her shirt trying to avoid any of the mess getting on her hair. Dumping it into the sink she scrubbed her face of the sticky residue.

Santana could see the slender shape of Quinn's body as she bent over cleaning off her skin.

"At least stop anyone else coming in while I wash up." She pretty much ordered the Latina to do her bidding and for some bizarre reason, she did as she was asked and leaned against the door.

There was a bluish stain on the white bra and a purple one on the red skinny jeans.

Folding her arms across her chest, Santana tried once again to be helpful. "My mom used Vanish to get the stain out of my uniform. It works pretty well."

Quinn turned her head sideways and shook her head.

"What?" the Latina asked. "I'm being nice!"

Quinn shook her head again. "I'm still adjusting, so how the hell did you get slushied? Besides, nice would be you asserting some authority over your team mates and getting them to leave people alone when they clearly haven't done anything wrong."

"How do you know the Hobbit didn't do something to them first?"

"What? Like aggressive singing at them or something?" The sarcasm dripped off the blonde's tongue with ease. "Rachel couldn't hurt a fly, she's practically Buddhist."

"She's annoying as hell sometimes."

"Maybe to you, but that doesn't mean she should get this in the face repeatedly. How can you be such a hypocrite? You act all hard-ass one minute and then you stand there and claim to be Switzerland in the Second World War. You're a freakin' coward."

"Fuck you, Fabray," the Cheerio spat back.

"You wish," Quinn raised an eyebrow and stood up. "Don't think I haven't noticed." She walked behind and took out the T-shirt she wore for Phys Ed. "You're not really what I'd call subtle about your leering. Even Puck doesn't make it that obvious and he has the excuse of being a seventeen year old boy."

She pulled the T-shirt over her head and inspected her reflection in the mirror. "Do me a favor and don't do me any more favors, okay?" Quinn walked up to the door waiting for the dumbstruck Latina to move aside. As she did, Quinn looked her in the eye. "And stop staring at my ass for God's sake, that is unless you want everyone to know the truth."

—

Santana was careful over the next few weeks to avoid as much interaction with Quinn Fabray as possible. She especially made sure she did not look at anything other than her face. It was the only way the Latina could avoid staring at other bits of the lanky blonde's anatomy.

She spent her time instead fawning over Puck and flattering his ego to make sure no one became suspicious of anything.

Quinn found it vaguely amusing but said nothing to anyone about it. It was none of their business and she wasn't going to out someone, even if she was a cowardly bitch.

Santana was scared of being found out. Her family were strict Catholics and it would not look good for that sort of information to get back to them. She did however take each of the Cheerios to one side and tell them that Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry were off limits where slushies were concerned. She might not have done right by them, but that could be changed.

It hadn't taken long for the balance of power at McKinley to shift subtly.

Quinn wasn't sure when it began. It was perhaps when she went to watch the football game with Rachel, who obviously spent the entire game fawning about Finn, that she started to take notice of things. Santana was pretty athletic and it seemed, good at cheerleading. Quinn hadn't paid much attention to the Cheerios at first, but watching the half-time show was actually more entertaining than the football team, who were largely terrible.

—

"Quinn would you like to come over and practice the group number with Mercedes and Santana tonight? I really think that in order to perfect it, we really need to spend more time on it than is available in glee today."

Quinn looked up and met the hopeful glance of the girl who had largely become her best friend. It was a strange situation. She knew just about everything there was to know about Rachel, they were able to talk about pretty much anything at school and yet Rachel didn't know the most important things about Quinn. Every time she wanted to explain, to give her the details of what had happened to her over the last year or so, it stuck in her throat and she couldn't make the words come out.

"Sorry Rach, I have to babysit."

"You do a lot of babysitting," Rachel observed.

Quinn shrugged. "I need to give mom a break."

"What about your grandparents?"

"My Grandma looks after Beth during the day while mom works, so they need a break too."

Rachel wondered what had gone on with Quinn's family. In her mind, she had decided that Mr and Mrs Fabray must have separated around the time of the baby's birth. It spoke of scandal and the diminutive brunette had decided that Mrs Fabray, who was perfectly lovely from what she could make out, must have had some sort of affair resulting in a baby and then divorce from her husband. In her mind it was the only scenario that fitted the bits of information Quinn had revealed.

"Maybe we could come over to your house then?" Rachel suggested.

Quinn considered it for a moment, but then dismissed it as too risky. She had become so guarded about the truth that she couldn't allow the facade to slip. A pang of guilt ripped through her as she realised she had been doing exactly the same thing she accused Santana of; being a coward.

"It's not a good idea. We'd probably just keep the baby up when she should be sleeping. Another time maybe?"

Rachel briefly thought that Quinn was going to say something else for a moment, but let it slide without interrogating her.

"Okay, but you must come to my party at the weekend then. My dads have tickets to see Barry Manilow in Chicago and are going away for the weekend so we are having a shindig."

Quinn grinned. "I'll ask mom if she minds. If she doesn't I guess I could make it."

"Yay!" Rachel got really excited then and explained, in great detail all the games they were playing and the allocation of drink tickets each guest would have.

Quinn caught Santana's gaze and the horror-filled face she was making at the sound of the party. She quickly stopped after she caught the disapproving glance from the blonde though.

—