Chapter Text
Lopez smiled, “I’m finishing it tonight.”
“What!?”
“What?!?” They both were shocked.
“I was just doing it for the fans anyway, I really lost interest after writing the sex scene way back in chapter 16. But I couldn’t leave the readers hanging! They wanted a wedding. And babies… which isn’t biologically possible but don’t think that stopped me.”
Santana gave ‘em an easy grin, “The children have the best… no, just kidding, they both have the worst parts of both of your personalities. Diva monsters, it’s realistic.”
“Mama Telanovela has other things to write. Or not write. I think I’ll never write again.”
“Hallelujah!” Teased Rachel.
“Mazel Tov.” Quinn said, giving Rachel a playful bump with her elbow. Rachel beamed.
“You know mazel tov?” she said, absolutely adoringly.
Quinn thought for a second, remembering something, “Today I was alll… verklempt, then I remembered I knew ‘mazel tov,’ so that my friend Rachel Berry would call me a… mensch?”
Rachel stared her dead-on and said, “You are the cutest—pardon my french—freakin’ person I’ve ever met.”
The praise sent the blonde into a blushing spell. She couldn’t conceal her half-embarrassed smile as she heard the admiring words.
“Gross, you two.” Said Santana. “This fanfic couldn’t be finished soon enough.”
As soon as Quinn left for class, Santana roped Rachel back in. “Whatever holy work you’re doing, bless you, Berry. Cheerios drills have never been this easy…”
Rachel shrugged, pretending not to know what she was talking about. But this didn’t work out in the end.
For later that day, when the two frenemies were making out against the bleachers, Lopez waltzed in on them.
Mama Telenovela clapped her hands together in a loud clap between each sentence, “I. FUCKING. KNEW. IT.”
“Please,” Rachel begged. She looked into Quinn’s eyes and tried to hide her head in the girl’s cheerios jacket, as to not have to deal with Santana anymore. “I can’t.”
Quinn glared over angrily at her. A gesture that meant: leave.
Santana obliged, but she walked backwards—never keeping her eyes off them.
“You’re welcome, senoritas.”
“Get out.”
“See you at lunch.”
Quinn rolled her eyes and freed Berry from her jacket. She looked down at the brown-haired diva and smiled.
“Do you want to practice for sectionals back at your place later?”
“You mean ‘regionals’?”
“Whatever,” Quinn looked away, at the field, then back at her girl. She couldn’t keep the happy expression off her face. “Walk me?”
Rachel put her fingers through hers. “Gladly.”