Here's the next instalment, Enjoy!
The usual disclaimer applies
Chapter 11
Arriving at the tennis club, the group decamped from their cars and made their way inside. Beth ran ahead and excitedly met up with one of her friends and dragged the poor girl over to meet Rachel, before they both went to meet their coach. Quinn took Rachel to the bar so she could get some coffee and then showed her to the courts outside.
The sun beat down on the open air courts and Rachel could see the heat haze as she glanced along the row of tennis nets. The sound of bouncing tennis balls leaving the strings echoed around. The nearest court was empty and they made their way through the gate so Rachel and Santana could sit at the small table beside it. Santana rolled the empty tennis wheelchair beside the net and left it for her wife.
Quinn needed to switch to her tennis chair from the regular one and began to shift herself over, Santana hovered behind just in case there was a problem and just held her hands out as Quinn gave her a look which said it was unnecessary. Rachel smiled at Santana's protectiveness and then watched as the blonde threaded the slim legs into place. The tennis chair looked nothing like the regular one. It had steeply angled wheels at the back and two tiny wheels at the front. The blonde clipped the toes of her tennis shoes into place under the frame. She wore loose white shorts and the fact that the blonde spent a lot of her free time outside became evident as she adjusted her legs and the tan line across her thighs showed. Pads were drawn across the top of the thighs, squashing them slightly as a ratchet mechanism held her legs together. Finally Quinn pulled the padded belt tight around her belly; it had been clipped back out of the way but was needed so she didn't fall face first as she changed direction. Pulling a sun visor onto her head and tightening the pony tail that kept her hair out of her face, she was finally ready to take on Calvin.
Rachel turned her attention to the tall man. He looked hot in his whites, though she could do without the socks being pulled so far up, a la Pete Sampras. Still, he did have a cute butt and it showed nicely in the shorts he was wearing.
He waited for Quinn to get her racket out and bounced the ball up and down a few times to get a feel for it.
Quinn rolled across the court to start warming up and Rachel admired the lean, muscular upper body that showed with the athletic vest her best friend wore.
"Quinn looks the part," the shorter brunette commented to Santana who sat beside her.
"Yeah, she looks amazing. I get tingles when I see her like this."
"I watched you hovering. She didn't like it, but I think it's cute."
Santana lifted her sunglasses up onto her brow and propped her chin on her hand. "She doesn't like me worrying but I always will anyway."
Rachel touched her arm and squeezed it. "She might think its not needed, but I think secretly she's glad you show you care. And she loves you to death."
Santana gave a lazy smile at the thought and turned back to Quinn, watching as she chased a ball and flung her racket out at it, the other hand firmly gripping the wheel to turn her immediately after she played it.
Calvin had to run into the net and failed to lift the dying ball over the tape. He stood hands on hips and sighed. Quinn was just too good at drop shots.
Rachel and Santana cheered the blonde and got a little wave in reply.
—
May 2011, Lima, Ohio
Santana was wearing the skimpiest shorts she owned. It wasn't an accident but she had moments of doubt as well. Would Quinn be attracted or offended by it?
Quinn was wearing track pants and a T-shirt as she dropped down the short ramp into the tennis court at school.
"Ready to see me embarrass myself?"
"I'm not that good you need be worried about it," Santana grinned. "I thought we were just giving this a try, like as in practice."
"Where's the fun in that?" Quinn responded. "I need to feel that burn from actually competing instead of just watching other people do it."
The Latina shrugged and waved at the court. "Go ahead then," she began to walk to one side of the net before stopping. "Hang on a minute. What are the rules? It doesn't seem fair with you in the chair and all."
Quinn just shrugged. "I think I'm allowed two bounces and that's about it."
Santana continued to the back of the court and then hit the ball over to warm up. She didn't try to make it hard for her opponent.
Quinn shoved the wheels a little to reach the ball and hit it back; their rally continuing until Santana hit it a little wider and the blonde failed to reach it in time. The Latina apologized but received a perplexed glance from her opposite number.
"Stop taking it easy on me," Quinn protested.
"I'm not, I'm just letting you get your eye in."
"You're taking it easy on me." It was a deadpan response and the hazel eyes fixed Santana to the ground.
The shoulders dropped slightly. "Okay. God, you're hard work sometimes Fabray! I'll play properly if that's what you want."
"I do," she grinned. "Hit me with your best shot."
Santana started singing the song of the same name to herself with a little smile on her lips.
She served the ball properly this time, which left Quinn floundering; the return went straight into the net.
"Fifteen-love," the Latina shouted out before switching sides and serving the next. This one went to Quinn's forehand and the return dropped just over the net leaving Santana short by some yards.
"Good return," she called out.
They proceeded to play a few games, Quinn getting in the odd decent shot but more often struggling to get close enough to the ball to play a winner. Santana was impressed and watched with fascination as Quinn got better and better, but each time she did, the Latina's response was to up the ante.
Eventually the blonde sighed as Santana took the set by winning every game. "I really need to work on my serve."
"I think the speed is the main problem and your turns are slow."
Quinn eyed the other girl. It was blunt honesty and she kind of liked it. Nodding she grinned. "Maybe I need to go into training."
Santana shrugged. "It's the only way to get better. Think about it like you went through rehab. When you started, everything was impossibly hard and then it just got easier as you pushed yourself."
Quinn giggled at that. "Like, literally!"
"Exactly. You can do anything you want to."
Quinn glanced around. The courts were deserted and they weren't overlooked. "What I really want to do is explore how much further your legs go on for," the sly grin spread across her mischievous features.
Santana took a deep breath.
"I know your mom is probably home right now, but my house is empty until six-thirty."
—
"So I was thinking you should check out some kind of handicapable tennis camp. Surely they have that sort of thing."
"I guess, but I'm not sure I'm ready for that."
"Sure you are," Santana argued. "What are you waiting for? I mean you can push the wheels and hold the racket; how much more ready do you need to be?"
"I don't want to suck at it," Quinn slipped her shoes off before sliding onto the sofa. It was still a little difficult to move herself from one place to another without a board, but she was getting better at it. She slumped back into the soft leather of the sofa in Santana's den.
The Latina dropped beside her. "You want to lift your legs up here?" She invited the blonde to place her legs into her lap.
Quinn nodded and moved to lift one, but Santana stopped her.
"Let me," she pulled the lower legs up on top of her own, tugging them into place and letting Quinn find a comfy spot. "Okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good." Quinn's nose wrinkled and she had a moment of shyness. "Do you really think I'm ready for a tennis camp or something similar? I guess I could ask mom. I don't want to go away from home though, I need to do my share of looking after Beth."
Santana nodded. "Leave it with me. I used to have tennis lessons up until a couple of years ago; I'll ask my old coach if he knows anyone."
"Thanks," Quinn watched Santana massage her lower legs. "How come you're not freaked out by that?" The blonde nodded.
Santana shrugged. "I was a bit at first," she admitted. "It used to physically hurt me to watch you move your legs with your hands when you got hurt." It was an honest admission. "All I could think about was how amazingly well you had always moved. That time in the girls bathroom when you got slushied - I could barely contain myself."
A small smile appeared on Quinn's face and she nodded at the memory. "I remember," she poked Santana in the ribs. "You looked like a dog in heat."
"And you totally played me," the Latina grinned. Growing serious then for a moment, she looked down at the legs laying in lap. "I'm just as amazed by the way you move now though. Today on the court, you were graceful, though not necessarily quick sometimes and I think when you've really got to grips with this, you'll be every bit the head turner you used to be. I think you lost your confidence, which is understandable, but it's starting to come back; I miss that cocky swagger you always had and I really hope you find it again, even if its in a wheelchair. You still rock."
"That is probably the longest speech you ever made, without a single rant in there either," a smirk grew across Quinn's face. "I think I'm going to be okay one day; I'm not there yet but I feel stronger every day and I feel more like my old self, kinda."
Santana reached her arms out towards the blonde. "Scoot over," she wrapped her arms around Quinn's midsection and tugged her hips closer, both legs fell down beside her own. "Ow, you just kicked my shins!" The Latina joked and received a giggle in return.
The long pale arms wrapped themselves around Santana's shoulders and before either knew what was happening, lips brushed against one another and tongues probed. Quinn drew circles across the tan skin on Santana's upper arm, while the Latina supported the other girls torso, all the time maintaining the contact between their lips and each other.
—
"We should take Beth out to the park or something at the weekend," Santana suggested.
"She's still too little to play on the swings, you know that, right?" Quinn adjusted her clothing again, getting back into her chair after their pre-planned make-out session.
"I thought maybe I could take her down the slide in my arms or something, she's getting big now."
Quinn shrugged. "I guess we could ask mom to put the child seat in your car."
"How come you aren't driving yet? Surely it would be easier if you were."
"I'm going to take lessons over the vacation. My car needs hand controls fitting first though."
"So what's stopping you from getting it done?"
"Nothing really," Quinn reflected how much the accident had changed her. She used to be so independent, determinedly so. "I'm going to make myself a list of all the things I want to be able to do before we start back to school in August. Will you help if I need a hand?"
"Whatever you need, you just have to ask."
A sigh escaped Quinn's lips. "I think I might have found my mojo again."
Santana leaned over and gave Quinn a long meaningful kiss full on the lips. "You really have," she whispered.
—
2020, Riverside, Connecticut
Santana watched Quinn spin around on the base line and take a position to serve. She tossed the ball up and allowing it to just drop a fraction first, struck it as forcefully as she could.
Calvin returned wide to the corner, but Quinn had anticipated it and moved backwards, letting the ball bounce twice, she played a low cross court drive with a ton of back spin, making the ball die before Calvin could reach it.
Santana and Rachel cheered again.
"I think I might have lost the crowd," Calvin rolled his eyes. "Nice shot!"
"Thanks," Quinn replied as she moved across to the opposite side of the court, ready to take the next serve. "I think you might have to work your butt to win over at least one of them." The blonde nodded over at Rachel who was spending most of her time watching Calvin's rear. "I think you have a fan, or rather your backside does."
"I hate being objectified," he shook his head and starting laughing.
"Of course you do," Quinn replied, sarcastically.
—
"I'm not coming back until I feel ready," Rachel hissed into her phone.
There was a pause and then she repeated what she'd just said again only with more conviction.
"You are supposed to be my agent; you don't own me. I am taking the first extended break since … well since you know when. That's six years ago."
Another pause followed, Rachel clearly listening to the voice on the line. Santana had heard enough and walked behind Rachel, stole the phone out of her hand and yelled into the phone.
"Listen you fucking leech, leave her the hell alone; she said she wanted time out. Let her be or you'll have me to answer to."
She ended the call and threw the phone back to a dumbstruck Rachel.
"Santana! What the hell was that?"
"I thought it was kind of obvious that I was putting that slug of an agent in his place. You know, you really should find someone who is actually looking out for your best interests rather than simply lining their own pockets." She sat on the tall stool at the breakfast bar with some of Rachel's amazing coffee.
Rachel sputtered and protested, but the Latina took no notice, holding a hand up to stop any further protest.
"Rachel, sit down now," she kicked a stood towards the red-faced singer.
The diva just folded her arms and stomped her foot.
"Sit down!" Santana pointed.
There was a loud huff and the scrape of the stool on the wood floor.
Santana took a long drink. "You remember when Quinn and I used to dance around each other back in school?"
Rachel looked surprised. "Yes of course. It was almost painful to watch. You ached for her and she just didn't think she could be with anyone. It was like really bad car crash TV." Rachel spoke without thinking and just groaned.
Santana's shoulders shook as she chuckled silently. "That was a first class, politically incorrect thing to say to the wife of someone who almost died in a car accident."
Rachel's eyes fell briefly. "Quinn would just laugh if I told her that."
Santana thought about it for a moment. "Yeah she would." Dropping the coffee cup down, she turned and eyed Rachel. "You and I need a serious talk though. Quinn is having sleepless nights about you. She cares what happens to you and so do I. We love you like a sister and you're on the verge of pressing the self-destruct button. Rachel, you are hiding from the life you so desperately wanted, you're lonely but rejecting the opportunity to date anyone and drinking too much. I know you're not a drunk, but you don't go a day without it. You can tell me to fuck off but I think you're depressed and you need to see someone."
Rachel for once in her life had nothing to say. She sat very still for a moment and then she started crying.
Santana didn't know what to do at first. She hated Berry getting upset and couldn't deal but Quinn had taken Beth to a friend's and probably wouldn't be back for a while yet.
"Shit, why did you have to break down on me," she stood and wrapped Rachel in a hug. There were huge sobs and tears and snot. Rachel was a mess.
Eventually the crying subsided and came to a stop. "How did you know?"
"Please, look at who you're talking to," the Latina grabbed her by the hand and marched her into the living room and sat her on the sofa.
"What the hell is going on with you?"
Rachel tore at a tissue and sighed.
"I miss Finn," she said simply. "I thought I was over all this ages ago and promised myself that I would get on with living and not look back. I know he would never have wanted me pining away for him. He wasn't like that."
"No he wasn't." Santana had an idea that's what this was all about. Rachel had never quite taken the time to grieve that she should have. She had gone back to college and done what she needed to but without really letting go. Instead she had embarked on her career and an endless string of pretty boys who flattered her ego for a while until she was bored of the shallowness.
Santana sighed. "You know what you need to do?"
Rachel shook her head. "I need to do something, but I don't know what."
"You need to go home and take some time to think about what you lost when Finn died and you need to think about what you want from here on out."
"I know what I want," she mumbled. "I want what you have."
"Well you can't have Quinn or Beth, they're mine." She nudged Rachel with an elbow. "If you want a baby of your own, you better start looking for a suitable sperm donor unless you plan to start dating again."
Rachel allowed a small smile to cross her lips. "I don't necessarily want a baby right now, but I do want to find a soul mate; someone who makes me feel like I am the centre of their universe and vice versa."
Santana nodded. "Sorry if I was a bit blunt with you. I was never cut out for diplomacy."
Rachel laughed then. "It's fine. I prefer you to be direct with me. Do you really think I've been drinking too much?"
Santana shrugged. "That depends. Why are you drinking? If it's to escape or forget, you know the answer to that. If its to relax and unwind then, no, probably not."
Rachel looked down at her hands. "I think it's just become a habit because of the people I work with."
"Then maybe you need to think about how much you actually need or want and setting some limits. Besides that, maybe you should think about some grief counselling."
"But it's been years."
"I know," Santana looked at her, the stare never wavering.
Rachel watched for a flicker but she suddenly understood.
"You?"
The Latina didn't reply for a moment, then nodded.
"When?"
"About three years ago, just before we got married. I had never really dealt with what happened to her."
"Quinn?"
"Yeah."
"San…I didn't know."
Santana stood up and walked to the window, staring out at nothing in particular for a few moments. She didn't turn round.
"I…," she didn't know where to begin. "I didn't really think about it too much until we got this place planned and the next thing I know she had the fucking jigsaw box out telling me it had to go up on the wall."
"Oh," Rachel stood and approached. "Santana, if this is my fault, I'm really sorry."
Santana shook her head. "It wasn't the jigsaw that I had a problem with, that was just the trigger. Anything could have set me off. The problem was not allowing myself to deal with what happened at the time and doing like you have been, throwing myself into a career and forging ahead before I had dealt with all the shit from the past."
"What did you do?"
"Drank a lot of tequila for a couple of weeks until Quinn told me I was being a jerk and to sort myself out."
"You did it for her?"
"Of course I did. There isn't a whole lot in life I wouldn't do for her."
Rachel smiled. "Did you seek professional help?"
Santana nodded. "Grief counsellor. He was pretty good actually and got Quinn in too. We just talked about stuff and after a few sessions I realised I was holding in a lot of guilt for what happened. If I hadn't called her back that night, she and Kurt would have been on the road a couple of minutes sooner and wouldn't have been in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"But…"
"It wasn't my fault, Rach. I know that. It was just that I had built her up to be perfect in my head and couldn't accept that there was no such thing as perfect. Quinn wasn't perfect before the accident, no one is, but my image of who she was before and after weren't ever reconciled. I'm still a little over-protective, I know that and she might grumble but she accepts it. I was worse before. I would say all this stuff to encourage her and then try and stop her because I would worry that something would go wrong. I would phone her ten times a day to check she was okay. She'd be in the studio working and I kept interrupting. It drove her crazy. I don't do that anymore."
"It's not the same though. Quinn's alive and she's fine now. I'm never going to see Finn again."
Santana couldn't find the right words to explain things in a way that would show Rachel it was similar.
"Rach, the Quinn that arrived in Glee the start of junior year, she is dead. That Quinn got taken from me and the one I was left with wasn't the same."
Rachel looked astounded. "You think you got less?"
Santana shook her head. "No, but I'm not going to lie and say that Quinn is the same as she used to be. She isn't, not physically anyway. In some respects, she's more than before, but in other ways, less. It's not easy to explain, I just wanted to do it in a way that you would understand. I needed to grieve for the old Quinn that was lost and I didn't do that. The way she just used to swagger around and not give a shit about what anyone thought of her. I miss that Quinn sometimes. I don't think any less of her now, I love her with every beat of my heart, but we had to let go of some things and that was hard." Santana put her hands on her hips. "There were things I wanted from life that probably aren't possible because of what happened to her and it doesn't mean I am disappointed in her or what we have, just that you have to find some way to get rid of the disappointment over losing things you hoped for."
"Like what?"
A small shrug told Rachel the other woman was a little embarrassed. "We didn't get to properly dance at our wedding. Well we did dance, but it wasn't like I imagined it would be like and I know it bugged the shit out of Quinn that she couldn't walk down the aisle. Plus you know, other stuff. We can't always be very spontaneous and have to plan things out, which can be annoying and then even when you do plan things, she can get sick easily and the day is a bust. She liked to surf, did you know that? And she still can, but it's not the same as it was before."
Rachel chewed her lip. "I think I understand. But you still have her and that's the difference."
"I know. But you need to think about the things you wanted with Finn. They are still out there for you. Not with him, but with someone else. Calvin really is a nice guy, you know."
Rachel smiled. "He is, but honestly not my type. He kind of has the nice dorky side to him that I love, but he couldn't survive in my world. I don't want to stop doing what I love. It has to be someone who can live in my world without being corrupted by it."
Santana nodded and gave her a hug. "You going to be okay?"
She felt Rachel nod. "I don't suppose you planned on going back to Lima once Beth finishes school next week?"
A dry chuckle rose in her throat. "Is that your way of asking us to go with you?" Santana asked.
"Not if you have plans but you know, just if you were going to see your family or Quinn's, I might tag along, say hello to a few people, Mr Schue and my dads."
"I'll talk to Quinn tonight, okay?"
Rachel did a little happy dance. "Yay!"