Sneaking in to watch performances in the auditorium is a lot harder in a wheelchair. Sounds obvious, but even with Artie’s advice she struggled. But now, she thinks it’s worth it to see the girls kick ass with the classic number from Chicago. It’s only a rehearsal, but they are absolutely killing it – and they all look amazing. For some reason, though, her eyes keep being drawn back to Santana. Or more specifically, the way her outfit leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Every time she moves, the skimpy black shorts and top twist with her, and Quinn is mortified by her reactions.
By the time the number finishes, Quinn is feeling decidedly… hot. She’s about to attempt to wheel herself out when she hears Santana call for her.
“Hey, Quinn! Don’t go anywhere, Brits and I want to talk to you.”
Oh god please just let me get out of here, she thinks, but instead nods and stays put.
Brittany and Santana practically bound up the stairs.
“So, Quinn, did you enjoy that?” Santana says. She’s practically purring.
Quinn feels herself blush.
“Yeah, Quinn, we were totally hot up there, so you shouldn’t be ashamed of wanting us.” Brittany’s smiling openly, not trying to be seductive like Santana clearly is.
“I- I don’t-“
“Shh, shh, it’s alright. We just wanted to let you know that if you wanted to, say, have some fun with us, you are most welcome. Just gotta ask, sweetie,” Santana drawls. “Or you could just meet us backstage, the school’s deserted.”
With that, Brittany and Santana stride off, and Quinn finds herself staring at Santana’s ass.
Quinn makes a decision, and speaks up.
“Help me with the stairs, then, will you?”