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Slow Hands

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Quinn woke with a groan, rolling to face away from the window and sun that had undoubtedly woken her. With a sleepy inhale, Quinn moved her hand across the bed to find the woman she'd fallen asleep with. She opened her eyes, noticing the absence of Santana. Looking around the room, Quinn's senses finally clicked in as she heard the shower come to a stop. She pushed her fingers through her hair, happy that Santana hadn't just left her there.

It was a few moments before the bathroom door opened, and a fresh faced Santana walked through. She had a hotel towel wrapped around her body, her wet hair lying in perfect waves down her back.

"You've decided to join me then?" Santana smiled at Quinn as she walked towards her bag.

"You should've woken me up."

Santana was bent over her bag, rummaging through it for fresh clothes when she looked over her shoulder at Quinn. "To be honest, I thought you could probably use the sleep."

Quinn leant up on her elbows, "Yeah, we did drink quite a bit." Surprisingly, she had no headache. More importantly, she was certain that she remembered every aspect of the night before.

Apparently, Santana had found what she was looking for as she walked towards the end of the bed and dropped a pile of clothing, "I was actually referring to you keeping me up all night." A smirk spread across her lips as her heart raced uncontrollably. She had been mulling over how to approach the subject whilst in the shower, and the best she could think of was to be her usual smartass-self.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow. The corner of her lip pulled, giving the tiniest hint of a smile, as she pulled the sheet down and stood from the bed. Walking towards the bathroom, Quinn looked over her shoulder to see Santana's eyes wide, pouring over her body, "Yeah; that will have something to do with it."

With that, Quinn walked into the bathroom, heart pounding as she closed the door behind her. She had no idea what she was doing, but surprisingly, she wasn't worried. Looking in the mirror, she gave herself a reassuring nod, before stepping into the shower.

Quinn and Santana were sat behind Kurt and Rachel as they flew back to New York. They had been flying for about an hour, and it felt like Rachel had spent the entire flight turned round, sat up on her knees to tell Quinn all about her latest auditions.

"It just feels like, even though we're all together, we haven't really had a chance to talk, you know?"

Quinn smiled, as Santana rolled her eyes half-heartedly.

"You haven't told us what you ate for breakfast yet, Rachel…" Quinn nudged Santana with her elbow, trying hide the grin tugging at her lips.

Rachel gave Santana a disapproving look, before returning her attention to Quinn, "Sorry, Quinn, am I boring you?"

Quinn composed her face, "No," she said in a tone slightly higher than normal, before giving a more convincing, "not at all."

Santana supressed a snort. She knew Quinn, and that was a terrible lie. Smirking to herself, she adjusted her arms on the armrests, looking around the cabin for something to distract her from the stories she'd heard a thousand times already. The soft brush of a finger against her own was enough to drown out Rachel, as she felt her heart jump into her throat. Trying not to draw attention, she glanced down out their hands, next to each other on the armrest. Quinn's hand seemed so natural, it could easily have been a mistake.

As though Quinn could read her mind, she curled a cream finger around Santana's. It felt like an act of comfort, of solidarity; Quinn's way of saying: I'm bored as hell too, but I'm here.

"Can I get you ladies anything?" The flight attendant seemed to appear out of nowhere, causing Santana's head to whip round, bringing her hands into her lap as she looked up at the woman.

"Just some waters, please." Quinn answered the attendant, worried that she'd crossed a line with Santana. She leant over her friend to accept the waters, and waited for the woman to move onto Kurt and Rachel –who was now sat back in her seat.

Santana looked to Quinn, accepting one of the water bottles with a smile, "Thanks." Quinn blushed, looking out the plane window in an attempt to hide it.

"It's no problem."

Santana worried her lip. The silence was welcome after Rachel's incessant talking, and she let her eyes follow the profile of Quinn's face as she looked out the window.

Quinn could feel Santana's eyes on her. She loved it. It made her heart feel hot as it beat heavy in her chest. Slowly, she let her eyes drop, turning her head back to the chair in front of her. Once there, she let her eyes meet Santana's. The tension was palpable –not sexual, not awkward, but electric. Clearing her throat softly, she glanced away nervously, "I umm, have my iPod if you want to share my earphones?" She wasn't sure why she felt so shy about such an offer –after all the years of riding the bus with the Cheerios, the two had shared earphones on hundreds of occasions.

Santana nodded with a smile, and accepted an earphone from Quinn as her friend fiddled with the device. The two spoke in soft voices, only meant for each other, "You probably won't like much of it."

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Santana replied, "When do I ever?"

"I can't help your bad taste in music." Quinn widened her eyes in challenge as a grin spread across her face.

Santana narrowed her eyes, placing the earphone in her outer ear, as Quinn did the same, "Just play the music, Fabray."

Walking out of the terminal, Kurt spoke over his shoulder, "How long's your journey from here, Quinn?"

Quinn grimaced, "About 4 hours."

Rachel snapped around in an instant, causing Santana and Quinn to walk straight into her.

"What?! No, you're staying at ours tonight." Santana rolled her eyes as Rachel turned to continue walking. Yeah, don't mind us, just walking here… "At least get some rest after all the travelling we've done this weekend."

Quinn hesitated, her words coming out in somewhat of a stutter, "I… No, I can't… You… I would just be in the way."

"Don't be ridiculous, Quinn, we all managed to fit when you last visited, didn't we?" Rachel didn't even look back to see Quinn's nod.

"As long as I'm not in the way." Quinn glanced sideways to gauge Santana's reaction. She had remained quiet on the subject, and the last thing Quinn wanted was to make Santana feel uncomfortable.

Santana's insides had turned to jelly. She hadn't prepared herself for this, and her brain was overloaded with a million and one thoughts. Why hadn't she thought to offer that? Would Quinn think she didn't care? Would Quinn feel awkward about staying over? Where was she going to sleep?

Deciding to take a calming breath, Santana glanced up with, and with a light tone of approval said, "If you can sleep through Rachel's snoring, then it'll be a miracle." Turning her head, she met Quinn's eyes with a smile in an attempt to assure her there was no problem on her part, even if she was having a minor internal freak out.

Santana sat on the chair with her legs pulled close to her chest. Rachel had taken the centre spot on the couch, as usual. Kurt was to Rachel's right, and Quinn to her left. Santana's chair was in front of Kurt, diagonally opposite Quinn. She had let Rachel and Kurt do most of the talking, secretly thankful that she didn't have to Tango in and out of conversations with Quinn. The lights were low, and Santana had spent most of the night watching her friends talk, tired from the flight and the constant energy needed to process her and Quinn's situation.

Quinn was somewhat quiet too –Rachel's stories were rarely two way. Between nodding, eating pizza and sipping at the red wine the four had been sharing, Quinn's eyes periodically made their way to Santana's. She wasn't thinking much, just keeping half an ear open in case Rachel was looking for any sort of response. Mostly, she felt calm.

"Anyway," Kurt stood from the couch. When did he start talking? Quinn and Santana silently wondered. "I'm heading to bed."

Rachel stood too, both of them collecting the pizza boxes and glasses before making their way to the kitchen area. "We should probably be heading to bed too, Quinn." Rachel's voice cut through Quinn's thoughts. She had been eyeing Santana's chair, noting it was big enough for two, and considered joining her. Turning her head to Rachel, Quinn gave a blank look, having only heard her name.

"Do you mind if we do too? I have to be up early tomorrow."

Standing from the couch, Quinn let a small yawn escape her lips, "No problem."

"Okay, I'll just move some stuff around, I won't be a minute." With that, Rachel went into her room of sorts, and Kurt gave a tired goodnight before disappearing into his own space.

Noting they were now alone, Quinn walked across the room to Santana, and sat next to her in the chair. It was clear Santana was tired, as she leant forward to let her head rest on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn pushed her fingers through curly locks, enjoying how silky they were against her skin. Quinn moved to drop a kiss on the top of Santana's head, only to second guess herself, before speaking softly, "You should get some sleep too, Tana."

Santana groaned, pushing her face into Quinn in stubbornness. Quinn laughed gently, "Come on." Quinn offered her hands to Santana, standing up from the seat. Santana contemplated them with a frown before relenting to let Quinn pull her up. She walked with Quinn to the curtain that lead to her room, hesitating at the entrance.

"Good luck with that lawnmower in your ear tonight."

Quinn's eyes widened as she shushed Santana with a grin, "It's not that bad. Just listen to some music."

Santana's face turned into a frown as she purposely raised her voice, "Lady Hummel still hasn't returned them."

Rolling her eyes, Quinn pulled the iPod from her pocket with earphones wrapped around it.

"Don't say I never give you anything."

Santana smiled and pulled her friend in for a hug.

"I would never."

They remained close until Rachel called from her room, "Ready when you are, Quinn."

Pulling back with a sigh, Quinn handed Santana the iPod, "I guess that's my cue."

"Are you sure you don't want these?"

With a nod, Quinn turned to walk to Rachel's section. Santana hovered at the entrance, watching her friend look back, before walking into Rachel's makeshift room, "Night, Q."

Quinn lay next to Rachel, staring at the ceiling. Her snoring definitely wasn't as bad as Santana had made out, unsurprisingly. Still, she had woken with a jolt about half an hour ago, and found she couldn't get her mind off the brunette who lay on the other side of the apartment. Peering over Rachel's sleeping body, she squinted to see the time on the alarm clock: 03:38. Great.

Gently easing herself out of the bed, Quinn finally decided it would be okay for her to borrow back her earphones from Santana. She would just pop her head in, and grab them along with her iPod from the bedside table: simple. She took steady steps across the loft, doing her best to be as quiet as possible. Biting her lower lip, she pulled the curtain back to Santana's room, stepping in on her tip toes as she eyed the bedside table for her iPod. Quinn frowned, letting her eyes wander the room as she tried to think where Santana may have left them.

Santana turned over in her sleep, causing Quinn to remain perfectly still, though she was sure she could hear her own heart thudding. Once she was sure Santana was still asleep, she pursed her lips at the sight of headphones still in Santana's ears, uncomfortably wrapped around her friend's arm after a night of movement. Quinn leant over, less bothered about having her earphones back, than from saving Santana from strangling herself in the night, and gently removed on of the earphones. Carefully, she managed to unwrap them from Santana's arm, pulling the iPod it was attached to. It was her own; Quinn picked it up with a furrowed brow, noting it was the same playlist from their plane journey.

Touching the iPod had caused the screen to light up, and Santana stirred in her sleep. Santana groaned, her eyes scrunched tight as she pulled the remaining earphone from her ear. Lifting her head, she squinted at the figure before her, and realised who it was. Her voice was thick with sleep as she spoke, "Quinn."

"Sorry, Tana, I couldn't sleep."

Closing her eyes again, Santana grumbled her response, "I told you about the lawnmower."

Quinn smiled, rolling her eyes as she readied to leave her friend to her sleep.

Santana rolled onto her back and pulled back the covers. Quinn hesitated.

"You don't have to, but it's cold, so make a decision." Santana wasn't at her best mid-sleep, but that didn't stop Quinn from leaving the iPod on the night stand and sliding into bed with her friend. She was surprised when Santana immediately pulled her closer, so they were face to face. This didn't mean much to Santana as her eyes stayed closed. However, Quinn took this opportunity to study Santana's face –as much as she could with the minimal light available. An unexpected hand found its way beneath Quinn's top and up her back. Santana traced her fingers over Quinn's creamy skin in an attempt to help her feel sleepy. Quinn let her eyes close at the touch, as a quiet hum emanated from her throat.

Surprisingly, it didn't take long for Quinn's eyelids to feel droopy, and by the time Santana's hand stopped moving, Quinn's breathing had slowed, leaving her to fall asleep in moments.

All of a sudden, Santana felt like a freshman in high school, again –standing at the front door after a first date. The nerves flew around her stomach as she pushed a hand through her hair.

Sensing that Santana wasn't sure how to say goodbye, the taller girl pulled her friend in for a hug, "It was good to see you, Tana." She kept her arm around Santana's neck, letting the embrace last a moment longer. She moved her head back, standing directly in front of the shorter brunette, their faces mere inches apart. Quinn's eyes fell to full lips, and back up to brown eyes.

Santana's heart lurched as she followed hazel. Contemplating for a moment, Santana moved to kiss a cream cheek, only it seemed Quinn had made the same decision, and as their faces turned, their lips touched awkwardly together.

Instead of letting the brush of lips pass by, Quinn pushed forward, capturing Santana's full lips in a firm kiss. Their eyes remained closed as they both took a steadying breath, only stepping apart at the sound of Rachel's heels back in the loft pulling them back to reality.

"I, um…" Quinn began, still recomposing after their unplanned kiss, "There's a party next week, if you, um, want to come?" She could feel the warmth growing in her cheeks, but refused to look away.

Santana glanced down, unable to cope with the tension between them, "Don't tell me you go to lame Frat parties, Q." Her words held no malice, only an attempt to bring them back to their usual banter.

Quinn smiled, grateful for a break in the heat, "Unless you want a liquor-free party, they're pretty much the only option."

"Frat house it is." Santana smiled as Rachel finally made her way out of the loft.

"Right then," Rachel cut in, "are we ready to head off?" She was rummaging through her bag for a set of keys, unaware of Quinn's eyes burning into Santana's.

Taking a breath, Santana mustered as much energy as she could, "Get a move on, Fabray. This short ass takes an age to walk anywhere."

Rachel raised an eyebrow at her friend, "We're practically the same height, Santana." Santana only offered a shrug in response.

With a shake of her head, Rachel walked past Quinn, calling after the blonde as Quinn gave her signature Fabray smile, "I'll see you next week."

Chapter Text

Getting Trashed and Getting Thrashed


Quinn pushed her fingers through her hair. It was a chilly New Haven afternoon as she stood in the breezy Train Station. Just under a week had passed since she had invited Santana to come and visit her, and she'd spent most of that time flitting between heated memories of the night they'd spent together, and agonizing over why she'd thought it was a good idea to invite Santana over so soon –adamant it would be nothing short of awkward. The confidence she'd felt the weekend before had been slipping steadily away as she'd been messaging her friend to organise the details.

She rotated her phone continuously, her fingers picking at the old case that housed it. A slight crease found home in her forehead. Checking the ETA on the huge board in front of her, Quinn's breath pushed through her lips with a puff. Santana's train had pulled in 5 minutes ago, and she knew from experience that it shouldn't be taking her friend this long to meet her in the open foyer. Looking down, she swiftly unlocked her phone. Her thumb found 'Contacts', but before she could press call on Santana's name, she felt the heat of a body behind her –blocking the cold gusts that had left goosebumps rippling the back of her arms.

"Too late to call to cancel, Fabray." The voice was in her ear, its low snark managing to speed her heart rate as her head snapped up from the phone in her hands. She knew Santana's lips were only so close to her neck because she'd been looking over her shoulder at the pale thumb that threatened to press Santana's name –something Santana wouldn't have been able to do, had she not been wearing heels. Collecting herself, Quinn span round with a wry smile. Her head tilted and eyes narrowed as she addressed her friend.

"Oh shoot, are you sure? 'Cause I think if you hurry, you could catch the quarter past back home." Her words were teasing, and a smile curled her lips as she watched Santana raise a sarcastic eyebrow. Quinn let her eyes wander for the briefest of moments, noting the dress and heels Santana was wearing. "Nice to know you dressed sensibly for the journey." Quinn was thankful that her voice had remained steady, her throat tightening as she settled into their usual back and forth.

Santana narrowed her eyes. Quinn watched as they scrutinized her critically, still finding it hard to catch her breath with those brown eyes studying her so closely. "Nice to know you've finally realized there's no point trying to match this." Santana gestured at her own body, clearly commenting on Quinn's casual choice of clothes –jeans and converse, a stark difference to the sundresses she usually donned.

Quinn rolled her eyes, hooking her arm through Santana's as she led them out of the station with a smile. "You are aware that it's freezing out?"

Without missing a beat, Santana retorted, "And yet you're wearing no coat. Your standards are slipping, Q." Quinn nudged an elbow into her friend, with a smile. Their conversation remained easy as they walked back to Quinn's dorm, and she could feel herself relaxing –unaware of how tense her shoulders had been as she'd stood waiting for her friend.

When they arrived at her dorms, Quinn held the door open for Santana. As Santana brushed innocently past, Quinn couldn't decide if she should be regretting that decision or relishing in it. She turned to close the door, knowing that she needed a few seconds if the warmth spreading down her neck was anything to go by. Turning around, she let her hands sit between her lower back and the door as she quietly watched Santana do a small circle of the room.

"Damn, I thought I had it bad rooming with the Munchkin and Lady Lips."

Quinn pushed herself forward from the door and walked further into the room.

"It's not so bad." Her voice betrayed just how much New Haven had come to grow on her, even if her roommate had no interest in building any form of rapport.

"At least I have a sheet up, Q." Santana was stood in the middle of the room, eyeing the two single beds that sat on the opposing walls. "I mean, it doesn't save me from the horrific sounds Berry makes when she's getting wanky with the Living Mannequin, which must be some sort of human rights violation because I should not have to listen to that –really!" Quinn's eyes bulged at the oversharing of information, and she found a genuine laugh falling from her mouth at Santana's apparent need to accent just how bad it was with an overly dramatic look of disgust.

She pulled out her desk chair and sat on it cross legged, offering a smile as way of invitation for Santana to sit on the freshly made bed. Santana dropped down with a thud, leaning back on her hands as she let her eyes wander the walls again.

"So," Santana's voice pulled Quinn's eyes from the fingernail she'd been pretending to scrutinize, not quite sure where her eyes would have normally rested had friend been sat on that bed just a few weeks earlier. "What time's this party, then?"

It was 10PM when Quinn led Santana from her dorm. The nerves that had bubbled in her stomach were now barely noticeable after spending hours laughing over the surprising number of run-ins Santana was able to recall with her housemates. Getting ready had been less stressful than she'd anticipated –her absent roomie allowing for them to occupy separate halves of the room. Quinn was wearing a figure hugging, black dress that stopped mid-thigh. She'd settled on it earlier in the week, despite it being somewhat dressier than her usual attire for a Frat House. Santana's outfit was more akin to house party attire, denim shorts that were, in Quinn's opinion, modest in comparison to those she'd worn back at McKinley. On her upper body was what should have been a simple vest top, but somehow clung to the brunette in all the right places, Quinn had decided as she glanced at Santana from where she'd been sat doing her make-up.

The walk was short, Quinn's dorm being conveniently situated quite central on the campus grounds. They could hear the party before they saw it, and Quinn noticed Santana perk as she heard the loud music emanating from the house. A number of people were hovering at the front of the house, red cups in hand as they engaged in their various conversations –one boy already surprisingly drunk for the early point in the night. Quinn could feel Santana's eyes curiously eyeing her as a number of people turned to say hi before they reached the entrance to the house. She chanced a glance at Santana, noting the impressed, if somewhat surprised look that coloured her features.

"Quinn!" A tall boy appeared in front of the pair, his smile boyishly charming. "We're setting up beer pong, you in?" Quinn smiled, still not quite used to people finding her so approachable after all her time at McKinley.

"I think we're just going to-" Quinn gestured to the kitchen as she strained to be heard over the music. "Maybe the next round?" The boy left with a grin, seemingly satisfied to have recruited her onto his team.

"Come on." Quinn smiled at Santana, walking ahead towards where she knew they'd find drinks, but her breath hitched as she felt Santana's hand slide easily onto her waist, slowing her walk as the brunette leant in to speak.

"And who was that?" Her tone was suggestive, and Quinn felt a grin tugging at her lips.

"I don't know." She angled her head back as they walked through the crowded room, wondering if Santana was going to leave her hand there all night. "It's the first time I've seen him."

They eventually made it to the counter that had various drinks splayed across it. Quinn tried not to notice the strange tug in her stomach when Santana's hand moved from her waist, instead pulling two cups from the huge stack that sat in front of them. Santana was next to her, a look of incredulous confusion splayed on her face as she waited for Quinn to explain.

"So you just get random guys coming up to you for a game of 'pong?" Her voice was teasing, directed both at Quinn and the mystery boy that had collared her when they first arrived.

Quinn felt a smirk form on her lips, arching a brow as she angled her body to Santana. "What can I say? Everybody wants me." She winked, and Santana's eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth hinting at a smile before she turned her attention to the drinks on offer.

Not much time had passed, but Quinn and Santana were on their second cup of the heavily spiked punch that was only made drinkable from the sickliness of the fruit juice it was mixed with. The two had been stood with their backs to one of the walls, watching people dance as they fell into easy conversation, Quinn recounting some of the funnier stories from this particular Frat House.

"Quinn, you're up!" Quinn peered round the corner to see the beer pong table set up and turned back to Santana.

"Do you mind?" Santana waved her forward, an inquisitive glint in her eye as she followed the blonde into the next room.

As Quinn joined the team with the boy who had invited her, a bunch of groans came from the opposing team. She smiled to herself, wondering at what point exactly she'd earnt such notoriety for her beer pong skills. The teams were fairly even, but Quinn was the only person to not miss a single throw, which eventually led to her team's victory. The boys got rowdy, cheering with raised fists as Quinn grinned at her teammates.

Someone was already setting up the next round when Quinn walked over to Santana with a smile. She couldn't help the ridiculous sense of pride that swelled as Santana gave her an impressed look.

"We get Quinn this time!" The shout reached Quinn's ears just as she'd opened her mouth to speak to Santana. She turned around and waved her hand, ready to tell them that she'd join them later instead, but Santana pushed her forward playfully, interjecting before she could give her excuses.

"Quinn's down, but only if I can join." Santana didn't seem too worried about getting rejected, but Quinn was fairly sure that was because she knew most of the guys would be trying to get into her good books, in hopes of a good time later that night.

After settling their teams, Quinn and Santana made eye contact across the table as they waited for their turn. Quinn arched a brow, smirk clear on her face as she silently goaded on her friend. Santana's eyes narrowed playfully. They always had been competitive, and part of Quinn wondered if it was a good idea that they had been paired together. As their turn came round, it was Santana who took the first throw. Quinn watched as it bounced off the cups, smiling to herself before confidently bouncing the ball into one of the red cups opposite. She smirked, Santana clearly irked at being beaten but still in good spirits as she downed the drink.

Their eyes flitted between the table and each other, letting their eyes do the all the button pushing that was normally saved for verbal sparring when they were in competition. By the end of the game, Santana had made 1 successful throw, as opposed to Quinn's clean streak –Santana's team winning overall.

Santana met Quinn with a playful grin, her body slightly looser from the liquor in her system.

"Well, how does it feel to be thrashed?" Quinn asked, feeling like she'd spent the last half an hour with a permanent smirk slapped across her face.

Straightening up, Santana crossed her arms with raised eyebrows. "I think you'll find your team got thrashed."

Quinn gave a suggestive smile, her personal victory seemingly acting as its own, personal drug as she moved to walk past the brunette, pausing to lean in. "Whatever you say, Santana." Her voice was low and sultry as she let her fingernail slide down the girl's back. She was sure she felt a shudder, but hadn't waited for a reaction as she continued walking back to where they'd first got drinks.

She was grateful the room was so hot from the many bodies, her face growing warm as the beating in her chest didn't show any signs of slowing. She'd already poured a large cup of the strong punch and downed half of it by the time Santana caught up with her.

"Easy, boozy." Santana took the cup and drank some for herself, eyeing Quinn with a curious look.

Quinn took the cup back, apparently still feeling bold as she took a step closer to Santana. They weren't touching, but only half a step closer and they would be. "I think you'll find it was you drinking all that beer." Her voice was teasing, teetering on flirtatious. Her heart was banging against her chest, probably trying to work out why its owner was holding Santana's eyes as she took another sip of the strong drink. Santana licked her lips, apparently willing to sacrifice the cup and grab her own before filling it with the same concoction.

Feeling entirely unable to trust herself, Quinn led them towards the main area, where the lights were low and the music was loudest. People danced around them as Quinn slowed, turning to face Santana as an indication that they were at their destination. She hoped the music would save her from her lips that apparently had a mind of their own tonight. Quinn moved to the music, eyes low as it pushed all thought from her mind. But then there was a hand sliding to the small of her back. She felt her chest heave, silently pulling in oxygen at the unexpected contact. Santana's body was pushed to hers as she leant in to speak to her friend.

"You seem different here, Q." It was a statement, rather than a question, and Quinn noted the lack of accusation in her tone. Santana's body was pressed to hers –not tight, but enough for Quinn to wonder if her heavy breathing was noticeable.

She pondered, unsure if the statement required a response.

"You seem happy."

Quinn wondered if it had been the liquor or the safe blanket of dark noise around them that had allowed Santana to speak so honestly.

"I am." It wasn't a lie. She was happier than she'd ever been at McKinley. She couldn't care less about the social hierarchy anymore, and there wasn't the constant threat of her innermost secrets being spilt at any given time. She could relax.

Leaning her head back slightly, Quinn let her hazel eyes meet brown, their eyes locked as she pushed a hand through brown locks. She let her fingers sit at the base of the woman's neck, gently encouraging Santana to lean in. She told herself it was so Santana would hear her better, but the way her heart stuttered betrayed her.

"I'm glad you're here."

Again, their eyes met –closer this time. Quinn's eyes dropped to full lips, hovering there as Santana replied, "Me too."

She forced her eyes back up to brown, knowing there was no way Santana could have missed it. She wondered if she'd done it on purpose, perhaps she wanted Santana to know how they made her chest feel tight.

After a few beats, Santana allowed some space between them again. Quinn was grateful, she'd decided; she wasn't sure what to make of Santana's ability to act like the weekend before hadn't happened. Maybe she was jealous –it felt like she'd spent the entire week contemplating everything.

Quinn had pushed the key to her bedroom lock twice by the time Santana nudged her aside with a snort. Her teeth were on display as she smiled widely, Quinn now with her back to the wall beside the door. She knew she was drunk –the way the walls looked fuzzy told her as much. She let her eyes wander Santana's face which was creased with concentration as she tried to have better luck at getting the key in, between her fits of laughter.

The liquor had lubricated her restraint, hazel eyes now following the curve of Santana's ass in her shorts. At last, Santana had opened the door, and with a triumphant look at Quinn, she'd pulled her by the wrist into the dorm room.

"I told you, you were drunker."

Quinn was happy to be pulled along, fully aware of the words being spoken, but in no hurry to respond. Santana dropped onto the bed, leaning back on her hands as she kicked off her heels. Quinn fell down next to her, sat upright as she looked back at Santana. "I'm not, you just had more time to try." Santana rolled her eyes.

"God, Quinn. Always with the details."

A smile tugged at Quinn's lips. She pushed herself up from the bed and wasted no time pulling the dress over her head. It was nothing Santana hadn't seen after years of Cheerios practices together, though that didn't stop Quinn idly wondering if she should be feeling more nervous about undressing in front of her friend. Her back was to the brunette for the short walk to her laundry basket, passing the full length mirror on the way. She thought she saw Santana watching her, but when she turned around, brown eyes were looking everywhere but at her.

Quinn walked right up to Santana, who was next to the pillows, offering only a quiet "Sorry" as she leant past to pull her nightwear from under the pillow. She probably wasn't as sorry as she should've been, but Quinn felt that was more the fault of the liquor than anything else. Santana stood, pushing a hand through her hair. She looked almost sober now, as she pulled her own clothes from the bag she'd brought.

Quinn took a calming breath as she lay on top of her covers, turning to the side as Santana stood with her back to her. Her mouth was dry, and she didn't know if it was due to the copious amount of alcohol, or the way her eyes skated down Santana's sides as she stretched to pull the top over her head. She rolled onto her back, knowing she was invading Santana's privacy, irrespective of how much more she'd already she'd seen. Her attention was brought back at the sound of Santana stuffing clothes into her bag.

A comfortable silence had filled the room. They were both tired, and a little too drunk to hold unnecessary conversation. Santana hovered beside the bed.

"Is your roommate coming back tonight?"

Quinn took a moment to answer. The idea of spending the night in such close proximity to Santana was tempting. She moved to lay on her side, reacquainting herself with the sight of Santana. Toned thighs were at eye level, and they made Quinn's heart race. Forcing her eyes up, she let out a disappointed sigh.

"No, you sleep here. I'll take her bed."

She settled into the unfamiliar bed, knowing a night squeezed into Santana on a single bed would only further complicate the blurred lines of their already complicated friendship.

The following day, Quinn and Santana made their out of the dorm block. There were masses of people milling between numerous tables.

"What's all this?" Santana asked.

"Oh, I forgot that's today." She looked at Quinn, still no clearer on why there were so many people huddled in the huge courtyard. "It's just the activities fair –clubs and societies set up stands to get people to sign up. I can just check out the website, later." Quinn shrugged nonchalantly and continued leading them towards the main road out of campus when Santana pulled her to a stop.

"You're being stupid. Let's just have a look. As long as you don't join another Glee club –can you imagine having another Rachel Berry in your life?"

Quinn rolled her eyes with a grin. "There will never be another Rachel Berry."

"I hope so." Santana replied with feigned exasperation. They began circling the tables, Santana calling out the names of the clubs that caught her eye –which tended to follow the theme of being clubs that Quinn would have absolutely no interest in joining, featuring classics such as: The Nicholas Cage Appreciation Society, and the Stich 'n' Bitch Society –which Santana felt would actually suit her friend, given her interests in 'lame, old people stuff'.

"What about cheerleading? I mean, I know it won't be the same without my beautiful face, but still."

"I don't know, I like being on top." Santana spun her head around with an incredulous smirk.

"Uh, wanky, Quinn Fabray!"

Quinn's cheeks burnt as she hastened to correct her statement. "Of the pyramid, Santana. Get your mind out of the gutter." She had considered trying out when she'd first arrived, but more than anything, she knew her competitive nature threatened to drive her back into chasing status and the Captain's spot.

"What's GSA?" Quinn asked as they approached the table, more to herself than to anyone in particular. Despite this, a girl with red hair and a welcoming smile stepped forward eagerly.

"Hey, we're Gay Straight Alliance. We welcome anyone who's part of, or supports the LGBT community."

"Oh." Embarrassment bubbled in Quinn's stomach, though she wasn't quite sure why.

"There's a group of us that discuss campus harassment and policies with the College, but mostly people just come for the socials." The girl extended out her arm with a flyer. "It's the details for our first night out, I hope I'll see you there."

Quinn accepted the flyer hesitantly. "Thanks." She smiled, and continued walking with Santana.

"That girl was totally checking you out." Santana's voice was mocking as she snatched the flyer from Quinn's hands. She scrutinized the paper as Quinn glanced back towards the red headed girl.

"Do you think?" Quinn had never been checked out by a girl before, at least not to her knowledge. She'd decided that Santana didn't count as there wasn't much time for checking out between necking the tequila and then necking each other.

Santana scrunched the paper into a ball, ready to throw it in the next trash can she saw, but Quinn snatched it back.

"Uh, excuse you! What do you care if she did? People always check you out." Quinn flattened out the flyer, folding it in half before slipping it into her bag. "You're not actually thinking of going to that, are you?"

Quinn shrugged.

"You seriously want to spend a night in a room full of Lady Hummels?" Santana seemed exasperated, her voice raising slightly.

"It's called Gay Straight Alliance, Santana –not everyone is going to be gay. Or a boy." She added.

Santana's eyes searched Quinn's face for some form of explanation, brows furrowed before seemingly giving up.

"Come on, let's just go get lunch."

Quinn and Santana sat opposite each other at one of Quinn's favourite lunch spots. She took a sip of her ginger ale and played with the straw as she looked to Santana with a soft smile.

"So, you've been avoiding talking about New York all weekend."

Santana arched an eyebrow. "Um, I'm pretty sure I told you all about living with Babs and Lady Lips."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I don't mean that. What have you been up to? Have you found a job yet?"

With a groan, Santana leant back in her seat before relenting. "I'm living the dream, Quinn. I have a thrilling job where I serve drunk assholes who apparently haven't heard of tipping unless I let them look at me the way Mercedes looks at tater tots."

Quinn didn't know whether to laugh or comfort her friend, so instead pressed further. "But it's better than Kentucky, right?"

Santana nodded and spoke quietly, suddenly interested in twirling her straw. "I took a dance class at NYADA; that was alright."

"Santana, that's great!" Quinn wondered why her friend felt this was something to have held back, as Santana remained unexcited.

"I don't know, it was all just a bit… Rachel."

Quinn couldn't hold back the laugh, but tried to reign it in when Santana gave her a pointed look.

"It's just all so Broadway. I mean, I totally rock the Chicago look –I don't need to tell you, but… uh."

Quinn refused to let the image of Santana in lingerie and suspenders distract her as she went to encourage Santana to give it another go, but her friend perked up.

"However," She let the word drag out, her tone promising an interesting twist. "There was this guy, Gabriel –if I wasn't totally into getting my lady kisses on, well, yeah, I'm just saying… But anyway, he told me to check out his dance class next week."

A genuine smile lit up Quinn's face. "That's really great, San."

"Yeah, well, I mean it's just a dance class, but it means I can see people who aren't either drunk or trying to turn my life into a living hell with the 'perks' of my own personal score."

They both laughed as the waiter arrived with their food.

Quinn ruffled her hair in the mirror. She wandered over to her desk and looked at the crumpled flyer from a few days before. She'd managed to avoid the topic being raised for the rest of Santana's stay, and now found herself changing multiple outfits as she fretted over why she was even going. Running her eyes over the outfit she'd settled on, Quinn took a calming breath. She had opted for a casual black top that stopped just above her midriff, and skirt that was short, but couldn't be classed as mini. With her smoky eye make-up and messy hair, she felt distant enough from the sundress wearing Quinn Fabray that would probably lock the door and stay home.

Not bothering with a glass, Quinn took a slug from the bottle of Tequila she and Santana hadn't managed to open a few days before. If she was going to do this, she definitely needed some Dutch courage.

Half an hour later, Quinn was in the short queue to the club named on the flyer. Her arms were wrapped around herself, conscious of the skin she'd earlier been confident to display. She'd never gone to a club on her own before, and even though she was technically meeting people there, she didn't know any of them –not even the name of the girl who had invited her.

A rush of panic came over Quinn and she span round to leave, only to bump into the person directly behind her.

"I'm so sorry!" Quinn brought her hands out to steady the woman, and instantly recognised her as the girl from the activities fair. So much for leaving without anyone knowing she'd even arrived. The girl beamed at Quinn and brought a hand up to her shoulder.

"Don't look so worried!" The girl looked over her shoulder as though she was looking for someone else. "Your girlfriend couldn't make it then?"

Quinn's face scrunched in confusion before she put two and two together. "Oh, no. I mean, she's not- And she lives in New York. So…" Her face burned with embarrassment, unsure of why exactly she couldn't string a sentence together.

With a smirk on her face, the girl took in Quinn's hasty response and seemed to try and figure the blonde out. "So, you're single. Hm, tonight will be interesting for a pretty girl like you." Noting Quinn's nervous laugh, the girl finally introduced herself. "I'm Harley."

"Quinn." She smiled, finally accepting that she would at least have to stay for a short while before making her excuses. Judging from the night so far, Quinn thought to herself that it was going to be an interesting one...

Chapter Text



It had been 3 weeks since Santana had visited Quinn in New Haven, and now Quinn was sat on the New York couch, catching up with Rachel. She had hoped Santana would be there, but apparently she had been out since Rachel had left her room that morning.

"She's barely around lately. Kurt and I wondered if she might be seeing someone," Quinn's breath hitched, blowing out silently at the words that followed. "But we don't think so."

"No?" Quinn tried to sound unbothered, as she subtly pressed further.

"No, she's always in workout clothes." Rachel's face screwed up. "Kurt thinks she's been working out her anger issues with us, at the gym –she's been a lot less… Santana, lately." Quinn smiled with a soft nod.

"I said it was probably sexual frustration." Quinn's eyes flew wide, somewhat in shock, but knowing College Rachel was a lot more open about such things. Rachel shrugged, holding her hands up in defence. "I just mean, it's been a while since… you know. If she's working anything out, it's probably that. She loves annoying us too much to actively try and stop it." Rachel gave a sarcastic eye roll, her smile betraying her.

"Anyway, enough about Santana, how are things in New Haven?" Rachel was practically giddy as she jiggled her shoulders in excitement –at what, Quinn wasn't exactly sure.

She thought back to the GSA social; how she'd barely had a moment to herself between the many girls that switched out to dance with her. It had been nice, in an anxious way –stroking her ego, but suffocating her at the same time. She'd finally managed to settle down into a booth when Harley steered her away, apparently having a sway with the girls.

Quinn smiled. "It's been good. I've been meeting new people, going out more…" She glanced away from Rachel, not really wanting to delve into all of it when she hadn't really been able to make sense of it herself, yet. "Speaking of going out, I'm really looking forward to tonight, Rachel."

Rachel beamed.

"And you, Rach? How are things with you and Brody?" She couldn't help but smile at Rachel's grin.

"I don't know, I just feel like I'm in a real, adult relationship, you know?" Quinn nodded.

"So, you guys are serious then?"

Rachel shrugged, looking down. "I don't know, really. I like him. Maybe it's just because we don't have to sneak around behind parents or anything." She laughed and met Quinn's eyes. She licked her lips, hesitating before finally asking. "And you?"

Quinn hadn't expected the question, and she definitely hadn't expected the huge rush of emotions that swum around her chest and clouded her head. "I don't think so." Her eyes moved from Rachel's as she cursed the disappointment that laced her voice. She was thankful when Rachel didn't allow herself to pick away at her, and moved the conversation swiftly on.

Eventually, Rachel excused herself to finish an essay. She had apologised profusely, but in all honesty, Quinn was quite happy to settle into Santana's bed, and read the book she'd started on the train over. She'd decided Santana wouldn't mind that she'd essentially invited herself to sleep there for the weekend, knowing Brody would be in with Rachel.

Her eyes were ripped from the book when Santana sweeped into the room, her vest top already raised above her head as she tried to free herself from the sweaty clothes that kept her from the hot shower that was calling her. Santana's back was to Quinn by the time she'd freed herself, and she moved to pull the shorts from her legs.

Noticing she was holding her breath, Quinn coughed to let her presence be known. She watched as Santana span, pulling the vest top to cover herself, before she realised it was Quinn. And like that, a smirk pulled at plump lips, and Quinn watched an eyebrow arch, not noticing the vest top that flew towards her, hitting her on the side of her head.

"Perv." Santana turned back around and grabbed her towel. She looked purposefully at Quinn as she swayed her hips to the 'doorway' of her room. "I'm going to be naked when I get back, so you might not want to be lying there." With a final smirk, she left the room. Quinn gulped, negotiating with herself that Santana hadn't explicitly asked her to leave, but she knew this definitely wasn't the time to test the boundaries of their friendship. Instead, she left the room with warm cheeks and joined Rachel in the living area, wondering if she'd heard their exchange.

It wasn't long before Santana came to join them in the living area, a faint smirk still curling at her lips when she met Quinn's eye. She wanted to wipe it from her face, to kiss her so hard that she could barely breathe, and then see who was smirking, but she supposed that didn't exactly help her cause.

"What time are you heading out tonight?" Santana looked at the back of Rachel's head for a response.

"I don't know, maybe 10, 10:30?" Rachel's eyes didn't move from the textbook she was reading.

"I get off at 11." Rachel turned to Santana, and then back to her book, glancing briefly at Quinn.

"I didn't know you had work tonight."

Santana stretched her legs out on the couch with a groan. "Yeah, it's only for a couple of hours."

Quinn saw Rachel's brow furrow, but the small brunette said nothing, only humming her acceptance.

Quinn walked into the bar Santana worked at. She hadn't warned her that she would meet her there after her shift, but she'd assumed it was pointless anyway, as she wouldn't be able to check her phone at work. The room was heaving, and after straining to see down the bar, she couldn't spot Santana. Suddenly, a man in a suit appeared from a door marked 'Staff Only', and Quinn seized her opportunity.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," She gave her most seductive smile, knowing it helped her to get what she wanted quicker, and watched as the man's face moved from irritation to smugness. "You seem really important here, and I was just wondering if you know my friend, Santana? She's supposed to be working tonight, but I can't see her." She watched his eyes move shamelessly down her body and had to physically stop herself from shuddering with disgust.

"She's dancing at a club 'round the corner." He licked his lips and stepped forward. "I can keep you company instead, though." He smirked, and Quinn forced a smile.

"Thank you, but I need to find Santana. Do you know where I can find the club?" His face dropped slightly before gesturing back out the door and left.

"Out to the left. It will have a huge rhino on the building."

"Thank you."

Quinn worried her lip as she walked in the direction the Manager had gestured. She was hesitant, and didn't really know how to feel about the new information. 'She's dancing in a club 'round the corner.' The words repeated in her mind. She had no idea Santana could even dance on a… She shook her head, trying to make sense of everything. Was her friend really dancing in a strip club? She knew Santana loved dancing, and yes, she had been used to the unwanted leering of men, but… Quinn was torn. She couldn't help the way her heart ached at the thought of Santana having to dance for the pleasure of others, how she would have to pick up the bills that littered the stage, or worse yet, feel the lingering touch as a hand slipped one into her underwear. Quinn realised the biting of her nails in the palms of her hands and unclenched them; her mind was wandering away from her. She took a steadying breath. She didn't know the situation, not yet.

Quinn's eyes had been scouring the high walls of the New York clubs that blasted their music into the cool night air, desperately searching for the Rhino that she had been told was the club's logo. And there it was. Her brows furrowed. She stepped forward, noting the packed smoking area that stood next to the entrance of the club. She was surprised at how many people were packed in –that only around half were men. They looked like their ages ranged from early twenties to early thirties. She stepped closer to the club, noticing the jumping bassline that thudded out at her. This was not what she had expected –not the people, not the music. She wet her lips, unsure whether to go inside. There was a reason Santana hadn't mentioned working here, but she found her feet walking in, all the same.

She showed the doorman her ID and paid the entrance fee. She tried not to notice the way the man eyed her like she didn't belong here, and let her palms flatten over her sundress. Quinn glanced inside before clearing her throat.

"Erm, Santana Lopez… She dances here?" The bouncer only gave her a fleeting look, his eyes purposefully watching two men whose argument was getting heated. He allowed his eyes to check his watch before returning them to their previous position.

"She should be on any minute now, but it's the last performance tonight." She heeded the warning in his voice. If she was going to see Santana, she would need to get inside. Her heart crashed against her rib cage. She had no idea what she was doing. Walking further into the club, she frowned. The music wasn't something she'd ever choose to listen to; the only artist she could even think to compare it to was Sean Paul. Her eyes pulled over the crowds of dancing people, many of them dancing in couples. This wasn't a strip club, and she didn't know whether to settle into her relief or confusion. Before she had chance to decide, a silky, deep voice filled the club.

"Na who ready fu one more dance wi the King?" His accent was thick with his West Indian heritage, and Quinn found its deep richness oddly comforting as she looked in the direction the rest of the club had turned to. The crowd cheered, and Quinn noticed the stage that lined one of the walls. Music filled the club again. She made her way through the crowd, hoping for a better view as the clubbers continued to feel the music in their hips.

Quinn's breath caught in her chest as she watched Santana follow a man onto the stage. Their presence was commanding, and it was clear they were already 'in character' as they sauntered, creating a chemistry between them. The man had kind eyes and short braids that complimented his lean figure, but Quinn couldn't stop her eyes from honing in on Santana. She was wearing skinny jeans that looked as though they could have been sprayed on, paired with a crop top that only covered the sports bra that held her underneath.

Santana stood in front of the man, a few years her senior. Within a moment, the music changed and Quinn's mouth dropped as she watched Santana control every muscle as she manoeuvred herself to be bent in front of the man. She watched in awe. She had never seen Santana dance quite like this –she had always danced with confidence and an air of sexuality, but this was something else entirely. She felt her chest tighten, a swirling burning in her lower stomach as she watched Santana command the stage. They held the crowd ransom as they moved almost as one, their bodies highlighted every beat of the music. She could feel the people swelling around her, jumping and cheering as the two dancers gave the crowd what they wanted.

Quinn found her eyes struggling to settle, not knowing what to enjoy most. Her heart swelled at the look on Santana's face, it was all confidence –in herself, more than anything. She was at home on the stage. Quinn wet her lips unconsciously at the seamless way they moved between hard hitting movements and swift sways of their hips. Her eyes poured hungrily over the way Santana's body moved with purpose, and the light sheen of sweat that glistened on her friend's skin.

"Big up the Dancehall King and 'Tana Lopez!" Her stomach was heavy as the routine came to a finish, and she took a moment before she could join the chorus of cheers.

She watched Santana intently as her eyes scanned the crowd, seemingly taking in the overwhelming response. Quinn beamed at the smile on her face, and then her eyes met deep brown. Her smile quelled and breath hitched, she hadn't thought this through to the point of actually speaking to Santana. A blush spread across her cheeks, but she hoped the darkness of the club camouflaged them. Santana relaxed into a smile, and Quinn finally felt like she wasn't an intruder.

Santana and her partner shared a sweaty hug, his arm hanging loosely over her shoulder as he guided her off the stage and into the crowd. The people parted, but only slightly as they all seemingly wanted to give some affirmation that they had enjoyed the performance. Music continued to thump throughout the club, and it didn't take long for everyone to return to their dancing from before.

Quinn's eyes had been skirting round the room when she felt two hands slide around her waist and rest on her stomach. She allowed herself to be pulled backwards into the warm body she knew would be Santana. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt Santana's lips against her neck –as close as the brunette could get to her ear without high heels.

"It seems I have a stalker." Quinn breathed out deeply, trying to cover the shudder at the short breaths that puffed against her neck as Santana spoke. She leant back slightly, not wanting to move from the comforting hold, but knowing she had to.

Begrudgingly, she turned to meet Santana's eyes. Her cheeks blushed pink, and she wasn't sure if it was from being caught, or the way Santana's eyes burned into hers. She took comfort that instead of dropping her hands, Santana had let them sit low on Quinn's hips.

"You were amazing." Her words were simple and held nothing but admiration for the girl before her. Quinn hooked her arms around Santana's neck and pulled her in for a hug. She tried to ignore the sweaty musk that caused a stirring low in her stomach; the salty smell threw her mind back to that night at the wedding, but she shook it from her mind as she stepped back slightly.

They held intense eye contact, seemingly content to just stare at each other, until the man from the stage gripped Santana's shoulder with a comforting smile. He looked to Quinn with the same bright smile and held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Gabriel." Quinn glanced at Santana, remembering the name from their conversation in New Haven. She accepted his hand with a smile of her own and responded.

"Quinn. You were both… wow!" Her eyes widened at the last word, not really sure there was an adjective that could accurately describe the art in the way their bodies moved. He laughed with a genuine smile, and his presence was easy, like she'd known him much longer than just these few moments. "We're, um," Quinn glanced to Santana, unsure if it was her place, "we're going to meet some friends shortly; you're welcome to join us."

Santana gave Quinn a soft smile before turning to Gabriel, her usual snark returning. "Save yourself, it's a Karaoke bar." Her tone was full of disgust, but her eyes showed no real malice, and Quinn knew that although she loved to moan about it, she actually did enjoy her nights out with Rachel and Kurt.

"Nah, I think I'll come." There was a curious teasing to his voice as he smiled at Quinn with a wink. "I think Quinn and I are looking forward to your solo." He moved to stand next to Quinn, his arm over her shoulder. Quinn smirked and lift her chin at Santana.

Santana narrowed her eyes, a smile playing at her lips. "I'm going to regret introducing you two."

Quinn and Gabriel looked at each other with feigned shock. Rolling her eyes, Santana lightly shoved Gabriel back and knocked her shoulder into him. "Come on, let's grab our stuff, traitor." He grinned at Quinn before following Santana out.

After a brief freshen up, Santana and Gabriel had met Quinn at the entrance of the club, both wearing different tops to that of before. Quinn felt like she hadn't stopped laughing for the entire cab ride to the bar. Santana and Gabriel teased each other like brother and sister, their quick wit matching each other's. She wanted to sigh in contentment; she was happy Santana had carved a little space for herself in New York, happy that she had someone like Gabriel.

When they arrived at the club, Santana introduced Gabriel to everyone, throwing her thumb over her shoulder at the stage lastly. "The Karaoke Queen? That's Rachel."

Gabriel's face seemed to light up in recognition, a smile growing on his face, and Quinn was sure Santana must have told him of their love/hate relationship (whether Santana wanted to acknowledge it, or not). Her eyes grazed over Gabriel's face as she wondered if Santana had told him about her. She shook it from her head, there was no reason for her to have been mentioned.

Soon enough, Rachel was down from the stage and excitedly hugging a surprised Santana –she obviously wasn't aware that her missing presence at the loft hadn't gone unnoticed. Quinn watched as Rachel's eyes widened at Gabriel, and she eagerly introduced herself. Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, and she glanced to Santana for any hint of explanation, but the girl only offered an eye roll.

"Alright, Berry. Chill. We're getting a drink." Santana pulled Gabriel towards the bar, widening her eyes at Quinn and nodding towards Rachel.

Kurt and Brody had moved away to talk to some other NYADA students, so Rachel and Quinn closed the distance between them. "What was all that, Rachel?"

She almost regretted asking as Rachel turned into the side of her that thrived on networking within the industry –she was intense. "That is Gabriel Borietz." Quinn blinked, unsure if that was supposed to mean something. "He runs some of the NYADA workshops, and when I looked him up, he casts music videos and choreographs for all sorts of things." Her eyes bore into the back of Santana's head. "Santana should really be making the most of this, I wonder if she knows…"

Quinn could see Rachel plotting to interfere and felt her eyes narrow and her voice come out sternly, like she was still the Head Cheerleader back at McKinley. "No Rachel. Just leave it."

Rachel looked slightly taken aback, but got the message. She knew she had issues with poking her nose where it wasn't wanted, and at the very least, this was not a conversation for now.

An hour or so had passed, and the three late comers were starting to feel the buzz of liquor in their veins. Gabriel excused himself to take a phone call, and Quinn and Santana found themselves sat across the small table, staring at one another. It was easy and unawkward. Quinn idly wondered if Santana had missed her too.

Santana broke the silence first, a curious look finding its way to her eyes. "How did you find me tonight?" Quinn held the eye contact, refusing to blush as she steeled her nerves.

"I wanted to walk with you from work." She spoke honestly, thankful her voice didn't sound as pathetic as she felt. "Your manager said you were dancing in a club around the corner."

Santana nodded, seemingly happy to accept the explanation, but not to let their eye contact waiver. Quinn couldn't stand it, and glanced down as she felt her heart in her throat. "So, I guess that's where you've been going the last few weeks then." Santana raised an eyebrow in question. "Rachel mentioned you hadn't been around a lot."

Santana glanced over to Rachel and her eyes narrowed. Quinn glanced over her shoulder and saw she had cornered Gabriel on his way back, but noticed Santana remained unmoved. She licked her lips and picked up the napkin on the table, picking at it as her voice spoke up, hesitant. "She thought you might be seeing someone, actually." She daren't meet Santana's eyes. She could hear the thudding of her heart as she cursed herself for bringing it up.

The silence hung thick between them, and Quinn could feel Santana's scrutiny as she tried to work out what Quinn was doing. "No. I've just been practicing with Gabriel." The words came softer than Quinn had expected. She'd imagined words laced with disdain or accusation, perhaps even mockery. Instead, she was reassured, and she hoped, feebly, that Santana wasn't even aware she'd done so. She finally brought her eyes up as Santana sighed, and watched as she stood from the table.

"Sorry, I've got to distract Rachel." She could see the sincerity in Santana's eyes, and something that looked like disappointment, but Quinn refused to think on it. She watched as Santana pulled Brody towards the stage. A curious smile tugged at her lips. Realization washed over her as they both accepted a microphone, knowing Santana was a genius.

The familiar bars of Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello –I Know What You Did Last Summer filled the room. The earthy tone to Santana's voice ripped through Quinn, and she wondered how she'd coped so long without hearing her sing. She noted the smirk flick up and leave from Santana's lips and glanced back to where Rachel and Gabriel had stood, only to find him alone. Her eyes searched the crowd of people and found Rachel at the front, watching her boyfriend and roommate perform to each other. It was like being back in Glee club; they performed as though the lyrics were an autobiography, anguish filling their features as they sang to each other.

The room erupted with applause when the duet finished –Rachel screaming loudest of all. Santana rolled her eyes dramatically, but didn't hide her smile as she got down from the stage. The magic worked, and Rachel didn't pester Gabriel for the rest of the night, and before they knew it, it was past 2 and they were all heading home.

The curtain had barely closed behind Santana when Quinn launched herself at the brunette. After watching Santana's performance, it had taken everything she had not to drag her home as soon as they'd left. She crashed their lips together, her tongue aggressively dominating the kiss as she slammed Santana backwards onto the bed. She straddled her friend, lips drawn instantly to the pulse point on her neck. She ran her tongue up the length of it, groaning at the salty taste before sinking her teeth in and sucking. She was animalistic, desperate to have every inch Santana. Her hand slid down to cup Santana's sex roughly over her jeans. "Quinn." Santana's voice was thick with heat.

The blonde moaned, rolling her hips down onto the woman beneath her as Santana called her name again. The voice came from behind her, and she turned to see the brunette pushed against her back. Her eyes rolled back at the feeling of firm breasts pushed into her back, but then her face screwed up in confusion.


Quinn's breathing was ragged as her eyes sprung open.

"Quinn, are you okay? You were having a nightmare." Quinn forced herself to meet Santana's eyes, noting the concern etched into the line in her forehead. She nodded, mouth too dry to respond. She was sticky with sweat, and the warm comforter wasn't helping. As her breathing began to calm, she rolled onto her back and pushed the sheets down. She pushed a hand through her hair and grimaced at its damp heat.

She was wearing a pair of sleeping shorts and a thin, long-sleeved top. Pushing herself out of bed, she pulled the top away from her, not liking the way it clung to her damp form, and unaware of the eyes that watched her closely. She pulled open the drawer she'd seen Santana take her night clothes from the night before. Taking out a vest top, she pushed the drawer closed, careful not to let it make a sound. She pulled the sticky top up over her head, turning to the bed as her arms slipped out, and she dropped it on the mattress. She heard the sharp intake of breath, and her heart thud hard against her chest, as her eyes snapped to meet Santana's.

Their eyes remained locked, neither daring to look away until Quinn wet her lips. She managed to steady her nerves, the vest still in her hands.

"Sorry, I was too warm." She put her attention back on the vest and pulled it over herself, not knowing the way Santana's eyes roamed Quinn's body like an old map that she desperately wanted to trace the routes of again.

"It's fine." The words were almost a whisper. Quinn tried to calm the racing of her heart as she pushed her previous top from the bed and slid back under the covers. She stared at the ceiling, wanting nothing more than to feel Santana's lips all over her again, coaxing out the gentle moans she knew would come easily at Santana's beckoning. But Santana wasn't interested, and so she rolled to her side, leaving her back to the woman she craved, willing the aching of her heart to stop.

Chapter Text

Teeth and Tantrums


A number of days had passed since Santana's eyes had burnt into Quinn's, and it was fair to say she'd thought about that moment quite a lot. She had found herself on Facebook a lot, idly waiting for her to post something as an excuse to talk to her. When Gabriel had accepted her friend request, she knew she'd struck a gold mine. He had just shared a video from a page called Queen'Stonn Crew. When Quinn scanned the description, it read:


Big up to the newest member of Queen'Stonn Crew: Tana Lopez.

Check out our latest routine to Whine & Kotch –Lil'GBB


Quinn practically slammed the play button, eyes wide at the new information. The smile she wore was hurting her cheeks as she watched Santana and Gabriel dance around each other, so in tune with one another's bodies. The video had barely ended when she pulled Skype up, calling Santana as she ran a hand through her hair.

The call rang for a few moments before Santana appeared. She was lying in bed and clearly hadn't been awake for long –if at all. Santana grunted her hello, thankfully not having the energy to curse Quinn out for waking her.

Quinn grimaced. "Sorry…"

"You know I work in a bar, right?" The girl forced herself to sit up against the pillows. The sheet slipped down to reveal a very figure hugging, white vest top that Quinn may, or may not have seen Santana's nipples through. She glanced away, trying to hide the warmth in her cheeks.

"Sorry, I just saw Gabriel's Facebook post." Santana raised her eyebrows as a sign she didn't know what Quinn was referring to.

"You didn't tell me you're in a dance crew now…" Her words were teasing, but she had a genuine smile firmly sat on her lips.

Santana snorted, but the way she bobbed her head with a slight smile told Quinn that she was embarrassed and just a little bit proud of herself.

"It's really great, Santana."

Her friend cleared her throat in response and shuffled slightly.

"Well, I know you were just here, but they actually invited me out on Friday to celebrate." Santana glanced away. "It would be cool if you came."

Quinn's cheeks almost hurt as her smile grew wider, and she found her head bobbing down to hide it somewhat.

"I'd love to."

Quinn listened as Santana told her about how it had all come about. It was an easy conversation, full of laughter and the occasional scoff when Santana suggested she wasn't the same level as the other dancers.

An hour had passed, when Quinn told her she needed to leave for class –a frown etched into her features. Santana just groaned dramatically, expressing her delight at being able to reunite with her pillow. The call ended shortly after, and Quinn left for her first class of the day.

Quinn walked back towards her dorm after a morning of lectures. She was smiling at a text from Rachel when she crashed into someone walking the opposite way, her phone falling to the floor with a thud.

"Shit! I'm so sorry." Quinn brought her hands up to steady the person, her eyes widening slightly at the red haired girl in front of her. She was surprised to see a smirk on her lips, given that she'd just been practically trampled over.

"Don't be." The girl's eyes appraised her momentarily before she continued. "Tell me, after that GSA social, was I ever going to hear from you again -if you didn't just try to use me as a sidewalk?" The smirk quelled into a teasing smile, and Quinn busied herself with picking up her phone, trying to pretend she was checking for cracks, despite there being clearly no damage.

The GSA social had been intense, to say the least. Quinn didn't have anything against Harley –if anything, she owed her for saving her from the overbearing flirting of the other girls.

"Um… I accepted your friend request?" It wasn't really an answer, but it was the best she had to offer, and she felt she'd gotten away with it when Harley chuckled softly.

"Look, I know most of the girls can be… full on." The last two words seemed to have been chosen very carefully, and were accentuated with the tilt of her head. "But, I'm having a little get together at the weekend. Nothing big –most of them are juniors, so they weren't there for the social." She licked her lips, appearing to try and gauge Quinn's feelings at the invitation. "Anyway, it's just a few drinks, maybe some Cards Against Humanity, or something."

Quinn worried her bottom lip. "What day is it?" The words were hesitant; she hadn't really enjoyed having all the attention at the social, but this sounded much more low key, and she had promised herself to be more sociable this semester.

"Sunday." Harley's eyes seemed to sparkle at the suggestion Quinn might come.

With a small sigh, Quinn let a smile find its way to her lips. "Okay. I suppose I'll see you Sunday, then."

Harley stepped to the side so Quinn could continue her route back to the dorms, flashing a toothy smile. "See you then."

Quinn grinned into her glass. Friday had finally arrived, and she was sat in a large booth, surrounded by Santana's new friends. Her expectations had been, well, she wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but from her own experience on the Cheerios, she had prepared for bitchy comments to be slung her way. Quinn had soon learnt that high school was an entirely different universe, when she was welcomed with warm hugs from almost everyone. There was a familiarity among them, as though they'd known each other for a lifetime, and as the stories were shared, it became clear that the group was more than just that, they were like a family. She couldn't help laughing at the easy teasing that bantered back and forth, and the way Santana already seemed at home among them.

The blush that burnt heavy on her cheeks was accompanied by a swift jolt of the elbow to Santana's ribs when her friend turned the conversation onto her.

"Oh! Head cheerleader?"

"I bet she gives you a run for your money!" The group seemed to buzz at the information, the statements flying from each end of the table.

"Really, cheerleading is… I really can't dance." Quinn hurried to adjust their expectations because she'd seen the style of dancing they did, and there was no way her hips could ever move so gracefully. Cheerleading was counts and straight lines.

Santana scoffed, and she didn't need to turn her gaze to know her friend was giving her signature eye roll. "Since when have you ever been modest?"

A grin instantly turned her lips up as she chuckled into her glass. Their competitive streak had been nothing short of unhealthy for the entire duration of high school, and if Thanksgiving was anything to go by, they weren't entirely over it. She offered a shrug, and turned to meet Santana's curious gaze. "I've been doing a lot of things I wouldn't normally, lately."

It was daring, and Quinn couldn't quite believe she'd openly flirted with Santana –even if everyone else would be none the wiser. She was thankful for Anya's voice cutting through the electricity that seemed to have built between them.

"That's college for you!"

So far, the night had been a breeze. Santana's friends made her feel comfortable, even when their bodies moved instinctually with the music, like it was the music itself that moved them. As the night had stretched out, they'd peeled into smaller groups as some went to catch up with old friends in the smoking area, and others found new dance partners in the sea of people. When Santana had told her she was going to the toilets, Quinn had even felt comfortable staying with Reese, whom they'd been dancing with for the past hour.

When Reese was pulled in to dance with someone equally gorgeous, Quinn waved her off with a smirk. She knew Santana wouldn't be long, and she didn't want people to feel like she needed babysitting. Her hips continued to sway as her eyes wandered over the crowd, unsure of which direction she should be looking for Santana.

Quinn's stomach tumbled as she felt Santana's left hand slide round her waist and wrap fully around her. She didn't resist when the arm pulled her back into Santana's front, her heart too busy stuttering. Within seconds Santana's right hand had cupped her chin to turn Quinn's face towards her. She stole the breath from her, kissing her deep with no forewarning. Quinn's head was swimming and it was her body's natural reaction to kiss back –her mind certainly wasn't in any state to be making such decisions. And then Santana's nose was grazing her jawline and up her neck. It took everything she had not to push back into it, inviting Santana's lips to make home there.

"Help me out," The words were almost panted, and Quinn wondered if the huskiness was simply due to shouting over the loud music all night. "This creep won't leave me alone." Quinn opened her eyes, only now aware of how tightly they'd been shut. She could feel the heaving of her breaths, and tried to ignore the strange twist she felt at Santana's explanation. Trying to take slower, deeper breaths, Quinn turned back to respond, her eyes fluttering shut as she inadvertently pressed her neck to Santana's lips.

"You couldn't have just told him you have a girlfriend?" She hated how breathy her voice was, but decided there wasn't much she could do about it until Santana wasn't wrapped so closely around her. It was all she could do to act like she didn't want to spin round and recapture those perfect lips again.

"What do you think I'm doing here?" She could tell Santana had tried to angle herself to her ear, but she still felt the light brush of plump lips against her. "He didn't buy it."

Quinn turned her head further still, forcing her eyes to stay open as she tried to look over Santana's shoulder for the offending man. If her head wasn't so cloudy, she would probably have been more bothered by the sudden PDA. She gasped in pain as she felt a harsh nip on her neck, her eyebrows knit tight and her body tensed for the smallest of seconds until her eyes closed, rolling back as Santana's warm tongue pushed out over it to soothe the spot. Quinn barely held back the moan that built in her chest, and definitely wasn't able to stop the way she sunk back into her friend –her body demanding to be closer to the warm one behind her. It felt like an age had passed, when in reality, it had only been a few seconds.

"Is he still there?"

Quinn could swear Santana's voice had grown deeper, the almost whisper ghosting against the shell of her ear. She forced her eyes open and let them skim the faces. She didn't know what he looked like, but everyone behind them seemed caught up in their own dancing –be it in groups or couples.

She didn't know when it had happened, but her hand was clamped tightly over the caramel one on her stomach. Quinn sighed, letting out a shaky breath. She let her hand loosen, and forced her voice to keep steady when she responded, letting her head face forward again. "He's gone."

Santana's grip relaxed, and Quinn winced slightly at the tenderness on her neck. She was sure it would leave a mark. She didn't bother turning around or telling Santana what was happening, she simply took the hand in her own and led her to the ladies room. Quinn was surprised to see it was empty, and dropped Santana's hand as she leant forward against the sink to scrutinize her neck in the mirror. It was small, but visible, and there was no explaining away the harsh, deep pink.

It had been the first kiss she'd ever shared with another woman in public, and she was vaguely aware that it probably played a role in why her chest felt like someone had tightened a belt around it. She grit her teeth and glared at Santana in the mirror who was slouched back against the wall with a smug look on her face.

"What the fuck was that, Santana?" Her voice was stern, and there was no mistaking the irritation on her face.

Santana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's called acting, Quinn."

The taller woman span around and stepped forward towards her friend. "If it was acting then I wouldn't have a fucking hickey on my neck." She took another step forward, her voice growing more serious. "I don't do hickeys."

Her eyes studied the muscles of Santana's face, trying to work out the girl's next move. It seemed Santana was doing the same, weighing out what the right response would be. A few moments passed before Santana's arms moved to be more holding herself than crossed in frustration. She looked at the floor as she mumbled her apology.

"Sorry. I didn't…" The muscles in her jaw flexed as she clenched it, before finally looking back to Quinn. "I'm sorry." Quinn watched Santana's eyes move to her neck, and a pink tongue sneak out to wet her lips. "But it looks good on you."

Quinn could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, and was grateful that Santana was already halfway out of the door, only pausing to hold it for Quinn. She was surprised to get an apology at all from Santana, let alone so quickly.

"We should find the others."

Quinn allowed herself to be led through the club, her mind still on the last thing Santana had said, back in the bathroom. It wasn't long before they were among Santana's friends again, and she tried not to miss Santana's hand as they tried to settle back into the music. She could tell Gabriel had been dancing much more energetically than her and Santana, his bare arms shining with a light layer of sweat. He grinned when he realised they had rejoined them and immediately danced closer. He didn't stop his movements as he leant into them, so he could be heard.

"Where've you been hiding?" Quinn felt her cheeks flush again, and she wondered, with irritation, how many times that could happen in one night. She avoided his eyes, glancing away as she hoped Santana would speak up. It was only when she looked back that she realised her mistake. She met Gabriel's arched eyebrow, and he began dancing backwards, trying his hardest to suppress the smirk that was curling at his lips. "Never mind."

She was mortified. She felt her fists clench at her sides, and turned to glare at Santana. Quinn walked out towards the exit, clipping over her shoulder that she needed some air. Somehow, she knew Santana was telling Gabriel she would kill him in her own, personal sign language, but wasn't surprised when she felt a hand grab her shoulder to stop her. She shrugged it off, but still turned to meet the girl.

"He didn't mean anything by it."

Without a second's pause, Quinn bit back.

"Yeah, and neither did you." She used every ounce of strength to stop herself from grimacing at the words that she'd spat at Santana. She didn't want to be having this conversation; she didn't need a formal rejection from the girl before her, she knew Santana wasn't interested. She was fairly sure her own feelings were easily read, despite the effort she was putting into covering them up.

"Quinn," Santana started.

"Just, don't." Quinn shut her down immediately. She let her walls come down, making her voice void of any emotion. She walked back past Santana into the club. She liked Gabriel, and didn't want him to think he'd upset her; it wasn't his fault her and Santana's relationship was so messy at the moment. Still, there was no denying the emotion that had built in her chest over the past few minutes, so she blinked back the stinging in her eyes –not entirely sure which aspect had triggered it.

It had taken a while, but eventually Quinn was able to get lost in the music with the help of Anya and Reese, who was now back with the rest of the group. They were the kind of people you couldn't help but smile back at, and took turns dancing with the blonde –they seemed to have picked up that she was a little self-conscious at being the only non-dancer in the group.

When Santana pulled the loft door closed behind Quinn it was past 3AM, and they were both surprised to see Rachel leant back on the sofa –script in hand. Rachel swung her feet to the floor, letting the bundle of papers sit beside her as she offered a tired smile to her friends.

"How was your night?" Rachel barely held back her yawn as she spoke, stretching her legs in front of her.

Quinn leant down to slip the heels off her feet and let a small groan of appreciation slip out as they found freedom. "Aside from having to spend the night flapping around with a group of professional dancers… it was a pretty good night." Quinn smiled. "They were all really nice."

"Duh, why do you think they're friends with me?" Santana flopped down next to Rachel on the couch.

"I honestly have no idea." Quinn deadpanned. There was still an awkward tension between the two, but the last thing she wanted was for Rachel to pick up on it, the girl was like a dog with a bone when she thought something was wrong. "What are you still doing up, Rach?"

The brunette groaned, pulling the script into her lap with a childlike huff. "I have an audition on Monday; I couldn't sleep."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Rachel." She walked closer and angled her head to try and read the title. "What d-" Before she could finish her question, Rachel's voice was obscenely loud and excitable.

"Oh. My. God. Quinn, Fabray, is that a hickey?!"


Quinn clenched her jaw, not knowing how to dance around it and unable to let her eyes throw daggers at Santana. She straightened up, her hand self-consciously coming up to cover the mark on her neck. "Some asshole thought it would be funny." Quinn forced herself to begin walking to Santana's room, unprepared to let this conversation linger. "A prank, I guess."

In all honesty, she was quite proud at coming up with her excuse; she didn't know how believable it was, but it certainly beat the truth. "I'm heading to bed."

It seemed Santana knew she was in the doghouse, as she dawdled and tried to coax Rachel into conversation before finally giving up and joining Quinn in her bedroom. The time had only further agitated her friend, irrational rage boiling as she paced the room.

Quinn turned sharply when Santana entered the threshold, anger burning through her chest as she clenched her fists tightly. The brunette had tried to avoid eye contact, walking straight to the dresser and shuffling around the bits and pieces that littered the top of it. Quinn marched forward and grabbed the shorter girl's shoulder; she turned her round roughly, slamming her back into the dresser. She saw the fight rise in Santana's eyes, only to retreat when she saw the dark fury in Quinn's. Santana's lips were slightly open from where the protests and curses had died before they could escape. The blonde's smirk was harsh, cold almost when coupled with the predatory look in Quinn's eyes.

She had followed Santana's movement, their bodies almost flush as Quinn's eyes burnt into brown. Her left hand cupped Santana's face, and it would have been intimate if it wasn't for the fury that held her body rigid.

"What are you doing?" The question was hushed, and Quinn might have even missed it, had it not been for her thumb pushing over Santana's lower lip. It grazed her teeth slightly as the woman spoke, before the hand slid immeasurably fast into Santana's hair, tugging harshly as she pressed her entire body into Santana's. She didn't pause to admire the groan that sounded suspiciously like pleasure. Her movement had caused Santana's neck to bare itself in front of her, and she immediately dragged her teeth harshly up the column, not being so kind as to let her tongue quell the grazed skin. Her voice was a harsh whisper in Santana's ear.

"How would you like me to mark you?" She was shocked at the desire that laced her voice. It was supposed to be a challenge; she was furious at having to explain the mark on her neck to Rachel. Quinn was used to using her hands when dealing with Santana's behaviour –be it fighting in the McKinley hallways, or slapping her across a piano.

She let her teeth skim delicately down the shell of Santana's ear and nibble at the woman's ear lobe, just enough to leave a dull ache. She let her tongue pull it into her mouth, the fingers of her right hand digging into Santana's waist as she sucked harshly on the lobe. Santana moaned loudly into Quinn's ear.

None of this had been planned, and yet she knew her actions were betraying her intent.

"Is everything alright?" Rachel's voice cut through the heat. "I heard a bang." Quinn could hear light footsteps outside the room and reluctantly withdrew from Santana, turning to walk towards the bed that lay further into the room. Her heart raced heavy and hard as it pounded against her chest. She didn't respond to the girl, she'd had to do enough explaining for one night, and that's what had led to this. Her back was to Santana, but she could tell the girl hadn't moved and was still panting heavily –from shock, Quinn suspected.

"We- it's fine. I've- I just drank more than I thought." She smirked to herself at Santana's stuttering, pleased and confident that Santana had at least learnt her lesson –despite the side-track it had taken.

She heard, rather than saw Rachel invite herself into the room, and felt her stomach flip unpleasantly at the idea of Rachel noticing the reciprocated marks on Santana's neck. She was pulling her nightwear out, making it last longer than it really needed to.

"You'd think working in a bar would teach you to learn your limits." There was an affection in Rachel's voice that seemed to take the judgment out of her motherly concern.

When she turned back around, she was somewhat surprised to see Santana watching her with flushed cheeks. She'd barely moved from the dresser. Immediately, she knew she needed to get Rachel distracted because apparently Santana had no intention of looking at their friend, and that would do nothing to prevent Rachel from getting suspicious.

Quinn looked past Santana to their friend, and give a bright smile. "Could you get her some water? I think she's going to need it." She couldn't help her eyes seeking out Santana's again, but she decided to forgive herself as her head buzzed lightly with the after effects of the alcohol.

"Of course, I think I have some aspirin in my room too." Rachel plodded out, but Quinn's eyes never left the brown ones looking back at her.

"Get changed, 'Tana." Her voice wasn't soft, but it held no malice; it was clear she was telling her, and not asking. Santana slowly changed into her own nightwear and slunk into the bed. Quinn faced the wall as she changed into the vest top and night shorts. The top had barely settled when Rachel slid back into the room with two mugs of water and a bottle of aspirin.

"Thanks Rach." Quinn met Rachel near the doorway to take the drinks and pills. Careful not to slosh the drinks, she opened her arms for Rachel to give her a quick squeeze. "Night."

"Night, guys."

Quinn could feel brown eyes burning into the back of her for the entire interaction, and as she walked to give Santana the drink, she dare not lift her eyes to meet them. Instead, she walked back to her own side of the bed and slipped under the comforter. She lay on her side with her back to Santana.


Her mind was racing. Everything was a mess. She'd enjoyed Santana's kiss, but it had taken her by surprise –especially being in such a public place. And it hadn't even been for her. The tears that began prickling in her eyes dared her to argue that Santana's lack of interest wasn't what had hurt her most about everything. Her body remained rigid, curled in on itself as Quinn tried to calm the blinking of her eyes.

"Go to sleep, Santana." There was a long silence, before she heard a soft sigh and felt Santana shuffle further down the bed. Eventually, she fell into a restless sleep.

Quinn stirred from her sleep, pushing her face further into the pillow as she shuffled towards the warm body she'd gone to bed with. The mattress was warm, but empty, and she found herself grumbling as she forced her eyes open to confirm what she already knew. Turning slightly, she watched Santana tie the laces on her trainers –dressed in shorts and a tank top. She released a soft sigh, wondering if she would ever find Santana where she'd left her after a night in the same bed.

Santana straightened up and appraised her outfit in the mirror briefly, before she caught Quinn's eyes in the mirror.

"Morning." Her smile was soft, and Quinn met it with one equally so. She turned from the mirror and walked towards the bed. "About last night," Santana began. Quinn groaned and pulled the sheet over her head –apparently having lost all manner of confidence and control from the night before. "just… what was that?"

Quinn's face burnt and chest swelled with embarrassment among a number of other unwelcome feelings. She pushed the heel of her palms into her eyes as she tried to find some sort of response that didn't make her sound entirely deranged or perverted.

"You pissed me off." It was vague, and she hoped her tone had enough edge to warn Santana from continuing the conversation. The sound of Santana stepping closer told her she'd decided to ignore the warning.

"So you decided to-" Quinn threw the sheet down from where it had been shielding her, knowing she couldn't let Santana finish that sentence.

"Do what you did to me." It was childish reasoning, but their behaviour had never reeked of sophistication, and that was all she had to convince herself that Santana would buy it.

She pushed up so she was sat with her back to the pillows, crossing her arms over her chest. As she avoided Santana's critical gaze, her eyes found the faint pink line on the column of Santana's neck: undoubtedly from her 'punishment' the night before. Quin sucked in her lower lip and worried it at the memory.

"Right." The one word response hung heavy, but it at least sounded like a conclusion to the line of questioning. "I've got to go to training."

Quinn nodded. "My train is at one." She didn't really know what to do with herself. She felt too awkward to get up and hug her, and she wasn't about to offer a high five. Instead, she sunk lower onto the bed and pulled the sheet back up to cover the awkward clasping of her fingers.

"Okay. Well, text me when you get back." Santana smiled briefly before turning to head out of the room. Quinn could only hope the looming time spent apart would allow the awkward tension to dissipate instead of fester.

She wasn't feeling very confident.