Glee 1. A Good Story

**A/N:** I have gotten a lot of requests to expand this story. Once I've completed "We Can Fix This" I'll start adding some more chapters.

* * *

I'm in LA, driving back to my hotel after a meeting. Well, theoretically I should be driving, but this _is_ LA and I'm actually sitting in a car on the world's largest parking lot. I've been chatting on the phone with my mom for the last 40 minutes of this traffic hell, updating her on how my meeting went.

Mom grilled me for most of our conversation about specific points of the contract I am being offered. I assured her over and over that I'd fax her a copy to review, but when my mom is in protective "mama bear" mode she's an unstoppable force of nature. Having her in my corner is a huge confidence booster.

Now that we've ended our call I realize how quiet it is in my rental car, so I flip the radio on to entertain myself while I inch along in the California warmth.

I catch the tail end of a song before a new one starts. My attention is divided while I watch some idiot try to force his way from one unmoving lane into another.

_But there was somethin' bout the way  
__The blue lights were shinin'  
__Bringing out the freedom in your eyes_

_I was too busy watching you  
__Going wild child  
__To be worried about going to jail_

My ears perk up as I recognize the song, and I turn up the radio.

_You were thinking that  
__Running for it  
__Would make a good story  
__I was thinking you were crazy as hell_

_And you were so  
__Innocent  
__But you were stealing my heart_

_I fell in love in the back of a cop car_

Immediately my mind flies back to being on the verge of 17, laughing with my best friend on a hot summer night.

* * *

**Summer, 2011**

"What do you wanna do?" I ask Quinn as she climbs into my car.

"Whatever, I'm up for anything. Is Britt coming out?"

"Nope. She said Lord Tubbs needed a bath so she's staying in to do that." I try to keep the mirth from my voice, but Quinn gives me a knowing look and we both shake our heads.

After our disastrous trip to Nationals, I know that Quinn is at least somewhat aware of the nature of my relationship with Brittany. She doesn't seem bothered by it, but I worry sometimes that our closeness leaves her feeling left out. I'm actually kind of glad we'll get to spend tonight hanging out just the two of us, and it suddenly hits me where I want to take her.

I put the car in reverse and pull out of Q's driveway, catching her curious gaze as I shift into drive.

"I wanna show you something," I say simply.

We talk about life and the train wreck of Nationals. We talk about the fact that her father has moved back into her house and how awkward it is for her to live there now.

Her indifferent tone of voice would convince anyone else, but I know she's hurting. It makes me sad. I'm a pretty bad ass bitch, but Russell Fabray has always frightened me. It's not that he's a physical man (I'm actually pretty sure I could kick his ass and I've _definitely_ been tempted to find out on more than on occasion), it's that he knows how to cut a person to the core with a few well-placed words. He's a master of emotional abuse and Quinn has always been his favorite target. I hate him.

When we get close to where I'm taking us we see a "No Trespassing" sign. I drive right past it, casting a quick smile towards Quinn when she looks at me in surprise. I follow the dirt path for a little bit, a little nervous because the last time I was here I was in Puck's pickup truck and I'm not sure my car will navigate as successfully. I see a nice flat spot that looks vaguely familiar and pull onto the grass, then cut the engine.

"Come on," I say to my pretty blonde companion.

I grab a small portable speaker and my iPod, then hop out of my car. I climb onto the hood and lean back against the windshield. Quinn gives me a look and then follows suit.

We sit quietly for a little bit, just listening to the soft music playing from the speaker and the sound of the crickets singing their summer song. Suddenly, all of the sounds are washed out around us as a small jet takes off over our heads.

Quinn's eyes widen and take in the sight of the plane right over top of us, looking almost close enough to touch. She smiles broadly at me once the plane has passed.

"How did you know about this?" she asks.

I sigh, because it's kind of embarrassing.

"Puck brought me here right before sophomore year. I lost my virginity to him in the back of his truck," I admit, my gaze focused on the stars.

I can feel Quinn's eyes on me for a moment, but she doesn't say anything, and I'm grateful for that. I don't want to talk about my past with Puck, or any other guy for that matter. I may not be ready to send everyone rainbow colored coming out announcements, but I am done trying to push away the gay by getting involved with guys I don't have any feelings for.

Another plane goes overhead and I steal a glance at Quinn. Her face looks calm and worry free, she looks younger than I can remember her looking for a long time. I can't help but smile when I catch her eye, and her grin in response makes my stomach flutter in a familiar way.

I quickly look away from her eyes and focus on the stars again.

_What was THAT?_

I'm horrified. I mean, Quinn is hot and all, and I definitely wouldn't _mind_ giving her pouty little mouth a taste, but just…no. It's _Quinn_.

Just as my internal panic sets in a sudden flash of blue catches my eye and I shoot up to a sitting position.

_Ain't this some shit._

I look at Quinn in alarm and she gives me a defiant little smile that shocks me and sets my heart pounding even harder than it already is.

"San, we should run for it," Quinn whispers to me with that glint in her eye.

I shake my head incredulously just as the first cop walks up.

"Evening, ladies."

"Good evening, sir," I reply politely.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come on down off the hood of the car and stand over here. Both of you."

I comply quickly, while Quinn moves at a leisurely pace and comes to stand next to me. An older cop walks up to join us and immediately pulls out handcuffs. In what seems like an instant, we're both handcuffed and leaning against my car.

"Now do you girls realize this is a restricted area? You're trespassin' by being out here," the younger cop informs us gravely.

Before I can reply, Quinn speaks up.

"Oh is it? We are _so_ sorry, Officer…?"

"MacMillan."

"Officer MacMillan," Quinn repeats with her best smile, "we are very sorry. Is there anything we can do to get off with a warning? You seem like a reasonable gentleman."

I know I'm not helping our cause with the shocked expression on my face as I look at my best friend. Quinn is laying on the charm, and I am completely useless. Officer MacMillan smiles shyly. I think she's actually done it, but then the older cop rolls his eyes and leads us both to the back of the police car.

"Do you happen to have a light?" Quinn asks the crusty ass old cop and I can't help but laugh out loud.

The cop looks at us with a slight sneer and then slams the car door.

"What was _that_?" I ask Quinn, wide eyed.

Her melodic laugh is so lighthearted I can't help but smile back.

"You're crazy as hell, little Miss Wild Child." I can't even be mad, I'm really just impressed and kind of turned on.

"Come on, Santana. Where's your sense of adventure? Could you imagine telling the story of the time we ran from the cops? It'd be legendary."

"Yeah, maybe, but let's not forget that we're _handcuffed_ and my car would lead them right back to us anyway," I counter.

"False. Your car would lead them back to _you_, and you're no snitch, Lopez."

My jaw drops open at the insinuation that she'd let me take the fall.

"That's messed up, Lucy Q. Fabray. I can't believe you'd sell me out."

Quinn flashes me an evil little smile before rolling her eyes at my shocked expression as if it's a ridiculous reaction.

"Oh stop, of course I wouldn't. I think it would actually be kind of priceless to see Russell and Judy's faces when the cops showed up at my door."

I look at Q and see a clarity, a sort of freedom, in her eyes. It affects me deeply, and I have to look away.

Quinn slides across the seat to sit closer to me, bumping me with her shoulder and giving me a smile.

The cops are taking their sweet time, but Quinn and I just laugh and joke around, completely absorbed in each other. My stomach aches in the best, laughed-too-hard, kind of way.

When Quinn eventually leans her head on my shoulder and asks what my parents will do to me if we actually are under arrest, I shrug slightly.

"They won't be happy, but Mom will still get her firm to defend me. It won't be the end of the world."

Quinn nods slightly and then peeks up at me from under her long eyelashes, a smile playing at her lips.

I know right then that I'm already gone, completely in love with my _other _best friend.

_Oh my God._

The door on Quinn's side opens suddenly.

"Okay ladies, you're free to go," Officer MacMillan says.

Quinn slides to her left a bit, but pauses and looks back at me, holding my eyes for a moment. She gives me a little smirk and then turns to get out of the car.

I'm breathless, but quickly follow behind her.

"Consider this a warning. If we catch you out here again, we'll have no choice but to arrest you. Am I clear?"

I see Quinn readying to say something undoubtedly smart assed, so I jump in quickly.

"Yes, sir. We understand."

Our cuffs are removed.

"Okay, then you're free to go."

I practically run to my car and grab my iPod and speaker off the roof, then climb in. Quinn once again lazily follows behind me and gets in the passenger side.

I'm back to the main road in a few moments and we start hysterically laughing.

"Holy shit, Santana. I had _no _idea you were such a good girl. Miss Lima Heights Adjacent, ladies and gentlemen," Quinn teases me.

"Please, Fabray. I'm too pretty for prison. The key to being a true bad ass is not getting caught, anyway."

Q laughs lightly at that.

When I pull into her driveway a little bit later, I put the car in park and turn to face her.

"Definitely a night not to be forgotten any time soon," I say, shaking my head a little.

"Definitely not," Quinn says in response before leaning over to give me a hug.

My head is swimming with the scent of her and the sudden desire to tell her something that I can _never_ say.

She turns her face and kisses my cheek gently, glancing into my eyes briefly before turning to slide out of my car and skip lightly to her front door. With one last glance back at me and a small wave, she disappears inside.

When I get home that night, I rush quickly up to my room and close the door.

My whole body feels off and I can't seem to capture my own thoughts long enough to analyze them. I'm overwhelmed and confused, and almost instinctually reach for a beat up notebook hidden under a pile of clothes in my closet.

In 20 minutes I've written the lyrics to the song that is assaulting my senses. I feel tears threatening, so I decide to leave it at that, without writing the music tonight.

Instead, I call Brittany and ask her about Lord Tubbington's bath.

* * *

A few days later I am hanging out with Quinn and Britt, feeling extremely uneasy but trying not to show it.

"So what did you guys do together last Friday?" Brittany asks as she applies a coat of nail polish to her toes.

My stomach does an uncomfortable flip and I falter when I try to answer.

"Oh, nothing much. Just drove around and talked a bit," Quinn answers airily.

"Laaaame," Brittany sing-songs.

"Totally," Quinn laughs in response.

Hazel-green captures my gaze, and a secret smirk graces pretty pink lips, stealing my breath. I give a small, quick smile in return and redirect the conversation to our upcoming Cheerios camp.

Quinn is unusually quiet.

* * *

When school starts again, Quinn shows up looking like the sexiest skank I've ever seen. It's like an outward representation of the reckless freedom I saw in her on the night we were almost arrested.

The pink hair, the nose ring. I see a flash of metal in her mouth once and almost pass out.

It's hot, but makes me nervous whenever she comes close to me, which isn't often. Quinn has placed an odd kind of block up between herself and everyone else. It's frustrating, but also a relief for my overworked nerves.

I don't know if I can really handle being around her, anyway.

Finn outs me like the idiot he is. On top of that, I somehow get roped into being the topic of Glee Club for a whole stupid ass week. All I can think is, "_A simple apology would do, Teenaged Michelin Man_."

Quinn sings "I Kissed a Girl" with me and the other Glee girls. She hugs me at one point and every nerve in my body fires at the same time. I'm almost positive she feels me shiver at the contact.

* * *

**February 14****th****, 2013**

Quinn and I get slightly drunk and sleep together at Mr. Schue's almost-wedding. It's amazing, and I know she feels it too. I see that freedom in her eyes again, but it fades when she insists, without any prompting, that it's a one-time thing.

It isn't. It's a two and then a three-time thing before we leave each other the next day.

Quinn kisses me before we leave the room. It's a deep, slow, wistful kiss, and I know we won't speak again for a long time after this.

My heart aches, but I understand.

* * *

**Present Day**

The song ends and I immediately call my mother and father, followed shortly thereafter by Brittany, Rachel, and Kurt. When I hang up with all of them, I scroll to Quinn's name in my phone. My finger hovers over the call button.

I chicken out and lock my phone instead.

* * *

My phone is ringing, I think.

I'm not sure if this is real life for a moment, and then suddenly I become aware of real and dream and where the hell I am.

I snatch my phone off of the bedside table.

"Hello?" My voice is groggy from sleep.

"Santana?"

I'd know that deep, raspy voice anywhere. I am instantly wide awake.

"Quinn. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. Did I wake you up?"

"Um, yeah. I'm in LA. It's 6:30."

"Oh. I'm sorry! I'll let you go."

"No! It's okay. What's up?"

"Nothing, really. I just...needed to hear your voice."

I'm not sure what to say to that.

"O...kay? Are you sure you're alright?"

She laughs quietly.

"Yeah, San. I'm fine. I just heard this song on the radio and it reminded me of you. It made me really want to talk to you again."

I lick my lips, my mouth feeling suddenly dry.

"What song?"

"What are you doing in LA?" Quinn evades my question.

"I'm being offered a songwriting deal. One of my songs got picked up and recorded by a pretty major artist. The right people heard my name, and here I am," I tell her happily.

"Holy shit, Santana! That's amazing! I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks," I say, smiling broadly.

"Who recorded your song?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me what song reminded you of me," I challenge.

Silence. I can practically feel Quinn debating whether or not to tell me.

"I think it's called 'Cop Car.' It's by Keith Urban," she finally admits. "So who recorded your song?"

"Keith Urban."

Silence.

"Santana..."

I wait for her to ask me, my nerves alight with tension.

"You did, didn't you?" Quinn finally asks, but it's not really a question. "You wrote that song?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"When I got home after dropping you off."

"You…you really fell in love with me that night?"

"Yes."

"Do you still...?"

I don't even hesitate.

"Always."

I hear a sharp intake of breath and then silence for a moment.

"When will you be back in New York?"

"I can be on the next flight out."

"Okay. I'll get on the next train."

I'm already out of bed, packing my stuff.

"I'm packing now. I'll text you my arrival info."

"Okay..." Quinn pauses before continuing, "I felt it too, you know. That night."

"And now?"

"Always."

I'm silent with disbelief as my heart leaps.

"I'm on my way."


	2. Running For It

**A/N: So much for the one shot. Here's another chapter for you fantastic readers who requested it. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

I've never fidgeted so much on a flight in my life.

I can't think about anything but the girl waiting for me on the other side of the country. I'm headed to the most familiar unknown possible. I know Quinn in such important and deep ways, yet in so many others she is a stranger to me. We've pushed and pulled each other for years, but ever since the wedding-that-almost-was we've maintained a delicate distance. Pleasantries exchanged, occasional messages. Just enough contact to keep us tethered together. Hell, the last time I saw her before our night together was Thanksgiving last year and we slapped each other. No one infuriates me like Quinn does, and I'm fairly certain I have the same effect on her.

I shift in my chair once again, ignoring the glare from the aging creeper next to me. He stared at my tits for the first hour of this flight, so he can deal with my constant shifting.

I look at my watch. 3 hours to go. I wonder where Quinn is right now. I picture her sitting on a train, calmly reading a book for one of her classes, chewing absentmindedly on her lower lip. Even imaginary Quinn is too much for me. I shift again, letting out an exasperated sigh.

* * *

We're taxiing to the gate. I have butterflies in my stomach that rival any others I've ever experienced. I take a slow, deep breath. My phone buzzes in my hand.

**Quinn: I'm here**

My stomach flips at the simple message. I shakily text back the baggage claim number for my flight just as the seat belt light turns off. I practically jump out of my seat and yank my carry on out of the overhead. I impatiently shuffle behind the people ahead of me, then walk as quickly as possible up the jet way to the nearest bathroom. I have a change of clothes in my bag, but I'm so anxious to get down to Quinn that I don't really feel like changing. I look at myself in the mirror and debate. I'm wearing a snug camisole and baggy pants with Nike high tops. My hair is pulled back loosely and I'm barely wearing any make up. I have an insanely tight dress and heels in my bag, along with some extra make up items. I'm still undecided when my phone buzzes again.

**Quinn: Don't change. Get down here!**

I smile ear to ear.

**Me: I have no idea what you're talking about! On my way.**

I throw on my hoodie but don't zip it, then pop a piece of gum in my mouth and take a deep breath. One last glance in the mirror and I'm headed down to the baggage claim area. I walk towards where I should be collecting my bag, my eyes scanning for the only face in the world I want to see right now.

"Santana."

I turn around and freeze. She's perfect.

Quinn drops her head to the side and smiles at me. She looks relieved and happy, maybe even somewhat overwhelmed.

I realize I'm just staring at her. My face breaks into a smile too, and I walk up to her. I don't really know what to do though. Hug her? Kiss her? Our eyes are locked for a long moment, until Quinn reaches her arms out and wraps them around my neck. Mine instinctively wrap around her slim waist and I pull her in close. Her face is pressed into my neck and my nerves are jumping at the contact. It's a long, intimate embrace. I don't want to pull apart, but I'm instantly glad when we do. As our faces pass one another, Quinn surprises me by moving her lips to brush mine softly. She hesitates as if awaiting my reaction, and I do not think twice.

I pull her against me again and kiss her fully, my head swimming with ecstasy when she presses her lips to mine with equal intensity. I hear a low whistle before my senses seem to focus only on Quinn. She tastes like spearmint gum and awesomeness. I could stay here forever. Instead, we slowly separate, a small peck following our epic kiss before we lean back and smile shyly at each other.

"Hi."

Wow, I'm clearly very eloquent at the moment.

"Hi," Quinn, her smile broadening.

I just smile back, kind of dumbstruck with happiness and excitement.

"Your bag," Quinn whispers.

"Oh yeah," I say as I remember the stupid bag doing laps on the conveyer belt.

I take her hand and walk to where it is circling around. I grab it off and we turn to leave.

"I'm not going to lie to you, I feel like I'm going to wake up any minute," I tell her as we walk hand in hand to the taxi stand.

Quinn blushes and smiles, and I give her a little grin before handing my bag off to the cab driver and climbing in the backseat. The gorgeous blonde of this real life dream climbs in after me and slides in close.

I give the driver our address in Flatbush and put my arm around Quinn's shoulders. Suddenly I realize she doesn't have a bag with her.

"Where's your stuff, Q?"

"I dropped it off at your loft. I got to New York a few hours ago and figured I'd just go to your place."

"Oh. Did you tell Kurt and Rachel why you're here?"

Quinn laughs that adorably melodic laugh of hers.

"I probably would have, if I had any idea how to explain it. I figured it'd be best for us to talk this one out before I said anything."

I smile ruefully.

"Smart girl. Did they teach you that at Harvard?"

Quinn's eyes widen comically and she looks completely affronted.

"Yale, Santana, I go to Yale."

"Six of one…"

I take in Quinn's offended expression and laugh.

"I'm kidding, Lucy Q. Of course I know where you go to school. Yale is a helluva lot closer to New York than Harvard."

"Did you Google Map that before you got on the plane?"

"Do you have someone spying on me or something? That's twice today you've called me on something you couldn't have known."

"Oh please, I know you better than you do. For example, I know that the minute we got off the phone this morning you threw your phone on the bed and ran around like a crazy woman to start packing. I know that your clothes, clean and dirty, are piled on top of each other in your bag. I know you showered quickly, but didn't wash your hair because it would take you forever to get out the door if you did. Then you put on the most comfortable, but cute, clothes you brought with you and packed a sexy ass dress and some sinfully high heels to change into. Then you probably spent 20 minutes trying to locate the phone you chucked onto the bed in your haste to get out the door. Tell me I'm wrong."

I roll my eyes as I prepare my retort before realizing that literally everything she just said is true. All of it.

"You're a creep."

Quinn smiles at me.

"I'm not a creep, I just know you."

"I know you too, but I don't know what happened on your end after we hung up," I tell her.

"If you really thought about it, I bet you'd come pretty close."

"Maybe. I'm not sure I can think straight right now."

"I'm pretty sure you haven't thought straight in years."

"Har har, Fabray. That was weak."

Quinn laughs at her own stupid joke and my lame comeback.

"Whatever. So what's the plan, superstar?"

I look at her in surprise. I'm supposed to have a plan? Because this feels an awful lot like I have no idea what I'm doing from one moment to the next.

"Plan?"

"Yeah. What happens when we get back to the loft?"

"I guess…I'll go change and we'll go out somewhere and talk. How long can you stay?"

"Three days. Non-negotiable, San. I know you'll try to keep me here longer."

"My, my Quinn Fabray, you certainly think highly of yourself."

"Not as highly as you think of me."

I shake my head at her.

"You better watch it or I'm going to make you share Rachel's bed with her."

"Uh huh. Doubt it."

I throw Quinn an absolutely incredulous look. She's definitely got her sassy pants on today.

The cab slows to a stop and we climb out, pay, and collect my bag.

I feel Quinn slip her hand in mine as I head for the elevator.

* * *

I slide the loft door open slowly, hoping I'll have an idea of what my roommates are up to before they pounce. I realize I forgot to ask Quinn what she _did_ tell them for why she's here.

"SANTANAAAAAA!"

I haven't got a foot in the door before Rachel comes running, throwing her arms around me in an enthusiastic embrace. I pat her back awkwardly and look at Kurt with the death glare. For some reason he just laughs at me, and I realize with horror that neither of these two are even remotely afraid of me anymore.

Quinn is laughing behind me, and I turn to glare at her, too. Rachel remains attached to me even as I turn around.

Eventually I peel the arms around my neck off one by one and hold Rachel's shoulders at arm's length.

"Hi, Rach. Did you eat all of the sugar in Wonka's factory and steal one of his oompa loompas?" I ask, gesturing towards Kurt.

The duo I've affectionately dubbed Kurtchel roll their eyes in tandem.

"No, silly! We're just super excited for you!"

I have to smile at that as I walk my bag into my curtained off room, answering over my shoulder.

"Why thank you. Don't get too overexcited yet though, my lawyers are still reading over the contract before it's official."

"Your lawyers?" Quinn sounds humorously doubtful.

"Yes, Quinn, my lawyers. My mom's firm. She reviewed it first, but wanted a "disinterested party" to look it over too. I was like, 'Ma, that whole firm has known me since I was an infant. Pretty sure there isn't a single disinterested person in the building.' But you know how she is. 45 different people will read it over before Monday."

Quinn shakes her head.

"God I miss your mother," she says with a wistful smile.

"I know, right? She's seriously the sweetest human being. I have wondered many times how the hell she produced Santana," Kurt chimes in with a teasing tone.

"Shut it, twinkle toes."

"Oookayyy," Rachel intones before the back and forth goes any further, "what are we doing tonight to celebrate? We're so excited Quinn came down to join us in celebrating your first step towards inevitable superstardom, but we need a plan!"

I look at Quinn with raised eyebrows. I'm not in the least bit interested in celebrating the hugest accomplishment of my life right now. All I want to do is talk to this insanely beautiful girl who has magically reappeared in my life.

"Actually, Rach, could we all celebrate tomorrow night together? I'd really like to spend tonight alone with Santana. We have a lot of catching up to do," Quinn answers for me, her voice slow with uncertainty.

Rachel and Kurt exchange a confused look before Kurt answers.

"Sure."

Again, a look is exchanged. I roll my eyes at them.

"Hey Q, I'm gonna jump in the shower real quick to rinse the coach cabin off of me and then we can head wherever you want."

Quinn gives me her movie star-perfect smile and nods.

I walk into my room and grab a towel. I note Quinn's bag on my floor and smile to myself before I practically jog into the bathroom to get ready.

* * *

When I emerge, hardly 20 minutes later, the loft is quiet. I'm immediately suspicious, so I start wandering in search of tweedle loud and tweedle gay.

Instead, I find Quinn lounging on the couch, reading a book.

"Hey, where are the Olson twins?"

Q drops her book and smiles at me. I don't miss how her eyes travel down my body before jumping back to my eyes.

"They went out."

"They went out? Just like that?"

"I might have encouraged them to go out."

"And why would you do that?"

"Because if we stay here and talk instead of going out, you won't wear some incredibly distracting, borderline inappropriate dress that keeps me from being able to think about anything but Mr. Shue's wedding."

My grin is so wide it almost hurts my face and I shake my head. I have no words for this. It feels like something I could only ever dream about.

"I'm serious, Santana. Right now you're actually testing the very limits of my self-control. So could you please go put some clothes on that cover more than they reveal?"

I smirk at her and walk away, still unable to form a coherent response.

This is the same girl who told me, unequivocally, it was a "one-time thing." Even though it wasn't, I still don't know how to handle her…overtness. I'm trying my damnedest not to get myself all wrapped up in my own head.

_One thing at a time, Santana. No rush._

When I re-emerge, Quinn is sitting up, waiting for me.

I give her a little twirl.

"Am I covered enough?" I ask sarcastically.

I get an eye roll and a smirk.

"Yes, Santana. You aren't desirable in the least right now."

I laugh, because I _know_ she's full of shit. I sit down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling my legs under me.

"You wish," I snark back at her.

"Actually, I don't. Why would I want you to be any less hot? I just don't want to be staring at your cleavage while we try to talk. It's rude."

"Okay, Fabray, I'm going to have to stop you right there."

Quinn looks at me curiously when I cut off our teasing banter with my sudden seriousness.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is _wrong_, Q. I just…where is this coming from? You've all but ignored me for the better part of a year and now you're so…"

I gesture between us with my hands because I can't think of the right word.

"Honest?" she asks.

"No, that's not it, you're always honest with me. Brutally so."

"Forward?"

"I guess? You're just so…comfortable with this. What happened to it being "more of a one-time thing" for you?"

I do little air quotes with my hands, but my tone is less mocking and more guarded. Quinn sighs and looks down at her lap.

"I…"

The pretty blonde across from me falters. I wait patiently, albeit somewhat nervously.

Quinn closes her eyes and begins to speak slowly.

"I was afraid. I knew I was attracted to you long before that night. I even knew I had some sort of feelings for you the night of our almost arrest."

She flashes a conspiratorial smile my way.

"But that night we spent in the hotel room…it was then that I knew for sure that I was in love with you. I've never wanted to stay in one place and run farther away at the same time like I did that night. There was just too much. Everything between you and me, your breakup with Brittany, my ridiculous affair with my professor—it was just too much for me to really handle. So I ran. I needed to figure myself out before I could really handle talking to you again, ya know?"

I nod and look at her face cautiously, my heart pounding.

"So…what next?" I ask, trying to sound calm.

She shrugs and meets my eyes.

"I don't know, San. I knew I had to come here and see you. That song…that song knocked me off my feet the first time I heard it. I felt like someone had written our story down word for word and I about died listening to it. Little did I know…"

Quinn laughs and I smile.

"Whatever happens from here I want to make sure you know that your song reached me. It woke me up from the Stepford Wife I was numbing myself to become. Hearing your voice this morning just confirmed what I already knew. I miss you. I want you back in my life. I want to work on figuring out what's going on between us. And I want some New York pizza. Like really bad."

I roll my eyes and laugh. I feel lighter, so much lighter, than I've felt in a long time as I get up to find a menu. Pizza is ordered hastily from our favorite local pizzeria and then I hop back onto the couch next to my once again best friend.

She studies me for a second before speaking.

"So, what are your thoughts, Santana?"

"I think that this is the best day of my life so far. I didn't think I'd ever hear you say any of these things, so I'm still trying to get over feeling like this can't be real. It just feels really good to have you back, in any capacity. I've missed you too."

We smile at each other dumbly for a minute, unsure of our next move. I finally sit up and lean towards her a bit.

"Is it okay if I…?"

Quinn bites her lip, her eyes on mine.

"Yes," she breathes as she moves closer to me.

I smile as I close the distance and kiss her soft lips. It is a slow, sweet caress that I feel from head to toe.


	3. Already Gone

The talk fest with Quinn has been nerve wracking and awesome at the same time. After our initial conversation, we've been pretty good about easing into this whole thing, somehow managing to avoid jumping into super deep conversations about our feelings and instead choosing to catch up on silly little things or reminiscing about funny stuff from high school.

We intentionally kept our kiss last night short and chaste before returning to talking and enjoying the best pizza on earth once it arrived. By the time Porcelain and Berry the Hobbit returned, Quinn and I had demolished a large pizza and were giggling at our similarly pained expressions as a result of our full stomachs.

We've escaped to Central Park today, claiming a bench for ourselves and sitting down to people watch. It's a warmer day than most have been lately, and I smile when Quinn lies on the bench and puts her head on my lap.

"So can I ask you something?"

I roll my eyes.

"You don't have to ask if you can ask, Q. Just ask your question."

Quinn scowls at my snarky response before responding.

"Fine. How did your song make it to Keith Urban? And when did you start writing country music?"

I laugh, because it _is_ weird that I have a songwriting credit for a country song.

"Well, my original version wasn't exactly country. It was a bit slower, more wistful. I was actually pretty devastated when I wrote it. But I played it during one of my graveyard shifts at the diner and some dude from Nashville just so happened to be visiting New York and grabbing some 3 AM pie at the diner. He liked it and asked me if I was willing to work with some other songwriters to give it a country vibe. And the rest, as they say, is history."

Q is studying me silently. I can tell she's debating whether or not to make a comment that's on the tip of her tongue.

"Out with it Fabray, we're never going to get anywhere if you're afraid to say what's on your mind."

Quinn shakes her head at me and sighs.

"God, you're annoying sometimes."

"Don't get flustered because I'm the only one who calls you out. You have a thought. Share it."

I shrug my shoulders and give her a "no big deal" expression. Quinn huffs a little, not wanting to acquiesce to my insistence. I know she will though, so I wait expectantly.

"Why were you so upset when you wrote the song?"

Her tone is annoyed because she is being forced to ask her question, but her eyes are sincere and curious. She actually looks kind of concerned.

It's my turn to hesitate, because I've painted myself into a corner now.

Telling Quinn how I feel about her was a lot easier on a phone 3,000 miles away. Talking about that night with her face to face brings up a lot of feelings I spent a good amount of time boxing away. I'm torn between wanting to pour out every single little thing to her and not wanting to open Pandora's Box o' Feelings.

But of course, I just called her out on not being forthright enough, so it would be exceptionally dickish if I didn't share my thoughts.

We've crossed back over into serious talk now, so I muster all of the courage I can find.

"I mean…I was in love with...someone else. And you. All at once. I felt like a terrible person. Cheating wasn't something I considered a big deal, up until that point. Then it felt like every time I thought of you…like that…I was cheating on...her. Plus, I was afraid that somehow one of you would find out about my crazy feelings and I would lose you both. It's not like people were exactly clamoring to be my friend. So, yeah. I was near tears when I wrote those lyrics."

Quinn is quiet, her eyes looking up at me pensively.

"I'm sorry you were in such turmoil. I wish I had known, although I'm not sure I would have handled it very well back then. Honestly, part of why I insisted on separating myself from the Unholy Trinity during my time as a Skank was because I didn't really know what to think about my feelings for you. I was so messed up in general though, it was just another layer of crazy in a whole big mess of craziness."

I try not to laugh at the memory of Quinn sauntering down the hallway with pink hair and a nose ring. I fail miserably and Quinn tilts her head to see me better.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just remembering the first time I saw you in full Skank mode. I won't pretend you weren't hot as hell, but that get up was ridiculous."

"Whatever. At least I didn't date _Karofsky_ of all people," Quinn deflects with a snicker.

"Oh PLEASE! We weren't _really_ "dating," I did that whole thing to get Kurt back to McKinley."

"Horse shit, Santana, you did that to win Prom Queen."

"Yeah, that worked out real well," I intone sarcastically.

"You should have won. You looked stunning that night," Quinn replies lightly, as if testing the water with her words.

I look down at her and narrow my eyes a little, cocking my head to the side.

"You know, I don't know why, but compliments from you run straight through me. I get the tingles whenever you say something nice to me. Probably because you're usually such a mean bitch," I tease.

Quinn laughs at my comment, considering I am by far the bigger bitch of the two of us, and I smile at her.

We're quiet for a bit before Quinn speaks up.

"I'm glad that nose ring didn't leave a scar, it's bad enough I still have the stupid tattoo."

I snort at her unexpected comment and she laughs at me.

"Was it weird taking out the tongue piercing? I saw the metal in your mouth once and, as I'm sure you can imagine, almost died."

Quinn bites her lip and looks up at me with a guilty/pleased/devious expression.

"What?" I ask, suddenly wary.

"I still have it."

"What?! No fucking way."

"It's clear glass."

"That's impossible, I would have felt that…"

"No, San, look, the retainer is clear and it has a flat top."

Quinn sticks her tongue out and pushes the bottom of her tongue piercing against her teeth so that it pushes up enough to be seen.

I'm utterly speechless.

"I was actually kind of worried you'd notice it during one of our more passionate kisses at Mr. Schue's wedding," she says with a little laugh.

"You were _worried_? Are you _insane_? I would have lost my ever loving mind. This is like…did I just arrive on Fantasy Island? I'm pretty sure I dreamed about hooking up with you and that tongue ring more than a few times."

Q is wearing a smirk that could turn just about any girl gay and I can't help myself any longer.

I lean down and kiss her, quickly slipping my tongue in her mouth before she even sees me coming. I slide my tongue along hers until I feel the glass stud I still can't believe exists. A deep hum comes from my throat as I run my tongue against it.

Quinn leans up into the kiss and wraps a hand around my neck, holding me in place as she takes the kiss over, pushing my tongue back with her own. I'm hopelessly turned on when she swirls her delicious tongue around in my mouth and then sucks my top lip between hers before releasing it with a pop.

"Wow," she breathes against my lips.

"Yeah," I whisper back before she releases her grip on my neck.

We share a long moment of eye contact.

"Thank God for public places," I say, my meaning clear as day to the girl with darkened eyes lying on my lap.

She laughs a little.

"Yeah if we're gonna take this slow, we should probably not do that again."

"Agreed."

* * *

We walk hand in hand back to the loft to collect my roommates for our little group celebration. When we reach the door, Quinn turns her head and places a soft kiss on my cheek. We share a smile, and then I release her hand and slide the door open.

"Yo! Loud and Louder, we're back! Are you guys ready to go?"

Two impossibly happy faces pop out of their respective personal areas and give me face-splitting grins.

I'm immediately put off by their expressions and I give Quinn an annoyed eye roll that makes her laugh in response.

Just when I'm about to go full bitch mode, curtains are yanked back in tandem and my roommates emerge, dressed to the nines.

Rachel immediately addresses Quinn as if I'm not standing right next to her.

"Okay so normally, since we're celebrating her, we'd let Santana pick where we're going tonight. However, Kurt and I made an executive decision to preemptively veto her choice and have selected Callbacks as our destination for tonight."

"Absolutely not," I respond without hesitation. "I thought we were doing a fairly mild night out, anyway."

"But Santanaaaaa. This is a _big_ deal, we should do something _big_," Kurt whines at me.

"But we're going to need time to actually get ready, and we're both pretty hungry since we skipped lunch."

"What's Callbacks?" Quinn asks.

"It's this _lame_ bar where the kids who pay to be educated theater nerds hang out and sing songs. It's basically like the choir room but with poorly made drinks and mediocre food."

"Oh stop, it's not that bad," Kurt chides.

"I like the sound of it. Let's do this," Q interjects.

I glare at her with a meaningful warning look, but just get a smile in return.

"Fine. But you all owe me for hijacking my celebratory night," I huff out before walking to my room to start getting ready.

* * *

When we've arrived, Hummelberry immediately head off to sign up to sing and I lead Quinn to a table.

"You're a traitor, Quinn Fabray."

"Will it help if I tell you I have a good reason?"

"It would have to be a _damn_ good reason," I say, my face skeptical.

Quinn raises her eyebrow at my sullen doubtfulness. She leans forward and speaks lowly.

"Look down."

I scrunch my face in confusion and glance down before looking back up at her and raising my hands in a "what?" gesture.

Q smirks and slowly drags her line of sight down from my eyes to my chest and bites her lip before bringing her eyes back up to mine.

"You're bad," I say, shaking my head at her with a grin.

"You love it," she responds cockily, then shrugs, "I just figured I'd take the opportunity to enjoy the view I knew you'd so kindly provide."

"What happened to my cleavage being 'too distracting'?"

"I won't be trying to focus on an important conversation between us tonight, being distracted isn't such a concern."

I nod my head slowly and then tip my head in a sign of respect.

"I gotta give it to you, you're good, Fabray. But I still think you're going to have trouble keeping your ogling of the twins here from being noticed by Thing 1 and Thing 2. I've even caught Kurt giving them the once over, so I'd imagine they're pretty hard to ignore," I tell her with a wicked little smile.

Kurt and Rachel are making their way to the table finally.

Quinn leans forward once again and looks me dead in the eye.

"Who says I plan on hiding my ogling?"

She leans back and lets her eyes drop to my tits for a second before returning her gaze to mine.

My mouth drops open at her bold statement and bolder actions just as Kurtchel place a whole bunch of shots in front of us on the table.

"Okay! We're going to kick this night off right! Everyone grab a shot and let's toast to start this shit up!"

Quinn looks at Rachel with a shocked expression and I laugh.

"Welcome to the New _York_ Directions, Quinn. These two are 95% less lame than you probably remember them being. 100% of the credit for this transformation is mine," I announce as Kurt and Rach grin proudly, then roll their eyes when I take credit for their reduced lameness.

We all hold up shots and Rachel raises her voice once again, attracting the attention of several tables around us.

"Here is to Santana Lopez. Successful songwriter, soon to be superstar, mean ass bitch, and the best friend I never thought I'd make. We're so damn proud of you! Wooooo!"

I shake my head at the unexpectedly awesome toast and fight the lump I feel in my throat. It's _way_ too early to start feeling emotional, especially since alcohol always brings all of my carefully contained feels to the surface anyway.

We touch our shots together and then drop them to the table before throwing them back as the tables around us raise their glasses and bottles and cheer.

Kurt swipes another shot off the table and gestures to us to do the same. I give him a warning look; he does NOT want to see the outcome when he feeds me and Quinn shots without feeding us actual food. Between her anger and my tears, it'll be a certified shitshow.

"No, no, don't worry, this'll be the last shot for a bit and we've already ordered some food. Rachel and I just couldn't agree on who gets to say a toast for you."

I roll my eyes and hold up yet another shot. Kurt kindly keeps his voice low enough for just the four of us.

"Here's to our dear friend Satan," he says with a wink in my direction, "who is up next to SING HER HIT SONG "COP CAR," WHICH CAN BE HEARD ON THE RADIO SUNG BY KEITH URBAN!"

Kurt's sudden shouting shocks me and it takes me a moment to realize what he actually just said.

"What?! No, I'm not singing it. Kurt. Kurt. Listen to me, Kurt. I'm not singing."

It seems like everyone in the entire bar is cheering and I can barely raise my voice loud enough to be heard by the soon-to-be-dead gay man standing right next to me.

He pretends like he can't hear me and gestures toward the small stage. I glance at Quinn and she smiles at me calmly.

_Oh God. I can't sing this in front of her._

I shake my head and look at her again. Q nods her head towards the stage and mouths "you got this."

_Shit._

I get up, feeling uncharacteristically heavy and nervous as I start walking to more cheering around me. I've sung in front of much larger groups than this, with choreography no less.

I try to get a grip over my anxiety as I head to the stage. I walk to one of the guys sitting behind an instrument and ask in his ear if he has a left handed guitar. I realize I'm really hoping he doesn't when he nods and gets up to grab one from a room off to the side.

While I'm waiting I pull a stool up and adjust the microphone stand. I sit down and carefully cross my legs. This dress could easily show a lot more than great cleavage if I'm not careful.

The bar has quieted considerably.

I pull the mic closer and take a deep breath.

"Hi everyone. I'm just waiting on a guitar and then I'm going to sing you guys a song I wrote almost three years ago called "Cop Car." Some of you might have heard it already, as my soon-to-be dead roommate pointed out ever so loudly."

I hear laughter from the crowd as Kurt sheepishly waves and I relax a bit. I glance over and don't see the guy yet so I keep talking.

"How many aspiring songwriters do we have here tonight?"

There are a few cheers and a whole shit ton of hands go up.

"Wow, awesome. Don't give up on it."

Someone yells out something from the crowd.

"What was that?"

They yell again and I just barely make it out.

"Oh you want advice? Um, well shit." (laughter) "Honestly I just got extremely lucky with having my song being heard by the right person, but I think the key is really the song itself. You've got to write stories and feelings that really _move _you in order to reach other people. I think my song got picked up because the feelings it describes are real."

I shrug and glance over to see the guy finally emerge with the requested guitar. I take it and strum a few bars to make sure it's tuned

"Alright guys, I hope you enjoy this. As I'm sure you can tell I'm not exactly a country artist, so my version is a little different."

I take a deep breath and begin playing softly for a few bars, then close my eyes and start singing a memory.

Flashes of a night I won't ever forget play out in my mind as I sing.

_A curious gaze on my face as we drive._

_Hazel-green eyes reflecting the flash of blue lights._

_A devious smirk pulling at the edges of a perfect mouth._

_Big, beautiful eyes peeking up at me from under thick lashes._

_A gentle kiss on my cheek at the end of the night._

I open my eyes and scan the crowd as I sing. I see a lot of people singing along and a few lighters and cell phones waving back and forth. My lips pull into a slight smile as I finish the chorus and head into the last verse.

My gaze falls upon the inspiration for the song. Quinn looks like she's barely breathing, her eyes fixed on mine intensely. I keep my eyes on her as I finish the song.

_Side by side_

_And locked in tight_

_They were taking their time_

_But we didn't mind_

_We talked_

_And we laughed_

_We sat real close_

_By the time they let us go_

_I was already gone_

_I was already gone, baby_

_I fell in love in the back of a cop car_

For someone as unusually confident as I am, I'm still surprised by the thunderous applause that follows the final note. I smile and nod in lieu of a bow before saying "thank you" into the mic and carefully climbing down from the stool so as not to flash anyone.

I hand the guitar off and start walking back to the table occupied by my friends. I smile and acknowledge a few people who give me compliments as I'm walking by.

I see Quinn walking toward me and give her a wide grin. She looks serious and focused as she makes a beeline in my direction and I give her a curious look.

My question is answered barely a second later when she pulls me against her body and kisses me passionately. I recover from my surprise quickly and loop my arms around her, moving my mouth against hers with equal fervor.

I'm distantly aware of renewed cheering until we pull apart and Quinn looks directly in my eyes. Suddenly I hear nothing, see nothing, know nothing except that the girl in front of me is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and that I'm absolutely still in love with her.


	4. I Wouldn't Change One Thing

I am still enraptured by Quinn's beautiful eyes when I feel her hand slip into mine. She turns to lead me back towards our friends, glancing over her shoulder with a smile when I give her hand a little squeeze.

Kurt and Rachel are looking at us in complete and utter shock, mouth agape when we just sit down as if nothing is amiss.

"Wha…um…so you guys…uh…?"

Kurt is stammering dumbly. Rachel still hasn't moved past gaping.

Quinn raises her eyebrows at him and tilts her head as if she doesn't understand why he's stuttering over his words. Her casual lack of concern over their reaction should be surprising, but she has confounded my every expectation over the past 36 hours or so and I'm almost beginning to expect it at this point. I can't keep my eyes off of her.

"What the hell was _that_?"

Rachel finally speaks and she actually sounds kind of _angry._ My head snaps around so I can study her face. She's looking between Quinn and me, but stops to focus her attention on my face, her eyes hard. I immediately feel defensive and irritated.

"I don't know what you saw, _Berry, _but it seemed like a pretty amazing kiss to me. Is that a problem for you?"

Rachel looks away from my angry glare, grimacing when I call her by her last name like I did when she was nothing more than a target.

"No, of course not. It's just unexpected, that's all."

I can tell that she has more to say. The words are bubbling to the surface, I can almost see the battle she's waging to keep them in. I internally will her to keep her big mouth shut for once, but of course she can't.

"Do you really think it's prudent to suddenly become involved with your other best friend after everything with Brittany ended so painfully? I mean, Quinn is obviously gorgeous and I can certainly understand the appeal, but you can have anyone, Santana. Why her?"

I sincerely can't believe Rachel not only just brought up my ex like that, but spoke as if Quinn isn't sitting _right next to me_. Even Kurt looks at her in horror. I fill my lungs with oxygen to enable the torrent of soul crushing insults on the tip of my tongue to rain down on her, but I am cut off before I can speak my mind.

"Rachel, _I_ kissed Santana. And as sudden as this is, it's actually not as sudden as you think. We're not just messing around here. So thank you for your concern, but we're okay."

Quinn's hand is resting gently on my lower back as she speaks. Her voice is calm and she smiles at my roommates when she finishes. She's trying to prevent my explosion and appease Rachel's imprudent worries at the same time.

I reluctantly sigh and bite back the angry words I want to unleash on my small, loud, rude, irritating roommate. Kurt looks as if the apocalypse has just been averted, and he tentatively speaks up.

"I'm sorry, but I just have to ask. How "not sudden" is this? I like to think I've got pretty fantastic gaydar, but Quinn hasn't set it off since she got over her weird punk phase at the beginning of senior year."

Quinn and I both smile in response, remembering our earlier conversation. I look to Q, handing the question off to her since she seems to be better prepared to talk rationally with these two right now.

"Actually that's pretty close to when I first realized I had a crush on Santana. And then last year at Mr. Schuester's first attempt to marry Miss Pillsbury we…blurred the lines of friendship a bit."

Quinn smiles her perfect smile in my direction and I automatically return it. Once again, she has me mesmerized, but I immediately try to shake it off. I can't sit here looking lovesick in front of Kurtchel. I'll never live it down—if I ever speak to Rachel again of course.

"Really? Wow. I must have been so caught up in Blaine...good for you guys though. So when did you realize you were gay, Quinn?"

I stiffen at the question. I've wondered about this, but it seemed like an unwise question to point-blank ask. She's been amazingly calm and self-assured about all of this, but I don't want her to freak out.

"Honestly, I haven't given much thought to _what_ I am. I've never been attracted to another woman besides Santana. I don't know what that means, exactly. All I know is that this feels right."

Quinn shrugs as if this is no big thing, as if she hasn't just set my heart racing with her simple words.

_This feels right._

Kurt literally squeals with delight.

"So like, is this a thing now? Are you guys, you know, a…thing?" He looks as if Christmas has come early, his eyes are alight with excitement.

My best friend laughs, and then leans forward to whisper loudly, so that everyone at the table can hear.

"I'll let you know at the end of this weekend."

She looks over at me questioningly, waiting for me to confirm that we will, in fact, know by the end of this weekend. Apparently for all of her gifts, reading minds is not of one of them, because she would know beyond a doubt that I don't need even one more second of deliberation on the matter. I know _now_.

I nod with a little smirk on my face and lean towards her, indescribably pleased when she meets me halfway and gives me a light peck.

"I'm sorry! It's just that I don't want to see you heartbroken again, Santana. I care about you. You didn't see what I saw, Quinn. You didn't see her after Brittany."

My eyes snap shut at Rachel's intrusive, obnoxious voice once again grating against my most sensitive nerves. I hear Q take in a sharp breath, surely experiencing a moment of doubt having been compared to my first love twice now. Berry has a death wish, she must.

I turn my head and open my eyes, glaring at her. My anger falters, however, when I see the look on Rachel's face. She's completely serious. She's actually worried about me. Why does that surprise me so much?

Rachel _did_ see me after my break up, and it wasn't a pretty picture. She withstood barrage after barrage of attacks in her determined effort to get me to talk to her about it. I hated her for it at the time, but when the day came that she broke through my defenses and I spoke, or rather sobbed, about the loss and the pain and the regrets, something changed. I was stronger the next day, and then the next stronger still. It had been Rachel who made me myself again, maybe even a better version. Without her, I almost certainly wouldn't be here right now, wouldn't have even be able to tell Quinn that I'd fallen in love with her and had never stopped being in love her.

More than that, it had been _me_ who held a brokenhearted Rachel after Finn passed away so suddenly. The apologies I would have said to him went to Rachel instead, and she had accepted my remorse and offered me forgiveness without hesitation. I'd listened to her talk to Finn at night, lying in my arms, until she finally began to speak to me about him instead of pretending he was still there with her. It had been a jarring, awful reminder that life is short and precious, and our relationship strengthened with our mutual grief and our willingness to hold each other up until we could stand on our own again.

It only takes me a second to know that Rachel deserves more than just another attack for her impossibly bad timing and inability to properly consider time, place and _audience_ for her concerns.

"Rach…"

I'm not sure what to say here, in front of these particular people, to assure her that I am okay. No, not okay. Echelons above okay. Somewhere in the stratosphere above just "okay."

"I wrote the song for Quinn. It's about her."

Kurt and Rachel both lean back in shock, disbelief on their faces. My words are hurried, my tone annoyed that I have to explain something that is inexplicable.

"I've asked myself a million times since, 'why her?' Trust me, I tried not to let it be her, but I didn't get to choose. It's just her. I can't control how I feel about her, and I wouldn't change it if I could. She's…"

I look at Quinn, who is studying my face, and smile lightly. My voice is softer when I finish my thought.

"She's amazing."

"Awwwwwwwww."Kurt looks like he wants to cry a little, ever the completely sappy romantic.

Q and I both roll our eyes, the blush on her cheeks so adorable that I lean in and kiss her cheek quickly. My focus returns to Rachel who is taking everything in, still looking slightly worried. Eventually her face relaxes and she shakes her head a little before smiling.

"Well then what are we waiting for? Let's eat our food and drink our drinks so that Kurt and I can get on that stage and sing you guys some sappy love songs!"

* * *

_Many_ drinks and trite love songs later, we're on the subway heading home. We barely make it one stop before Quinn has curled herself against me and closed her eyes. I smile as I kiss the top of her head gently.

Rachel nudges my foot with hers and I look up to see her deep brown eyes looking at Quinn before switching to me.

"I'm happy for you, San. I'm sorry for how I reacted. You guys seem great together."

"Thanks, Rachel. And thank you for caring enough to be worried."

"Yeah, well, you're kind of my favorite mean bitch."

I smile, touched by her term of endearment. Mean bitch I am, but Rachel is now in the defensive bubble I cast around myself, generally safe from insults and instead protected by me and my vicious, vicious words.

"I try."

"So what's the plan, you know, for the distance?"

"There isn't one, yet. We'll figure it out tomorrow, I guess."

Rachel nods.

"When are you going to tell Brittany?"

I sigh, not really wanting to keep talking about this. Kurt glances up from his phone when he hears that name, looking incredulous that Rachel has brought her up _again_.

"I don't know. Do I even need to tell her? She's busy at MIT and we've been over for a year. She told me to move on, and I have."

"Santana. This isn't some girl you work with at the diner. You got away with not mentioning Dani because you weren't that serious about it. It has taken you a year to reassemble your relationship with Brittany. She needs to hear about this from you or you'll lose that friendship and I know you don't want that. You still love her."

I glance down in alarm at Quinn to make sure she's actually sleep. Her face is smooth and calm, so I assume she is. I whisper my next words urgently.

"I don't still love her like this though, Rachel. I love B-_her_ because I just do. I always have and always will. It's not like that anymore with her."

"No, I know. Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you're _in love_ with her, just that she's important to you and you need to take care of that friendship. That's all I'm saying."

She's right, but I don't respond other than to nod my head. I look instead at Kurt, who is trying to text someone at 3 am. One of his eyes is closed, and I know he's way too drunk to be texting.

I kick Rachel's foot and then incline my head towards Kurt. She follows my gesture and shakes her head in amusement before taking his phone out of his hands.

"Heyyyy! Give it baaaaaack!"

"No. You should not be texting at this hour or in this inebriated state."

"Whaaaat? Noooo. I'm not even that drunk. Give it!" Kurt is slurring badly and I roll my eyes.

"You can't even read with both eyes open! Just wait until we get to the loft okay?"

Kurt opens his mouth to complain again and I just can't with this anymore.

"Kurt. No. Put your head back and relax."

My firm tone shuts him up. He sticks his tongue out at me and scowls, and then does exactly as I asked.

I smile to myself and rest my cheek on the top of Quinn's head.

If someone had tried to paint this scene for me a year ago I would've laughed in their face.

* * *

I wake up curled around the prettiest girl I've ever seen, our skin flush with one another's. It takes just a second for my memory to catch up and explain exactly _why_ I'm lying in bed with this girl, nearly naked.

We'd all stumbled into the loft, Rachel leading Kurt to his bed and me nearly carrying Quinn to mine. Rach and I met back up in the kitchen where we both grabbed bottles of water and wished each other luck with our respective drunks. How in the hell we ended up as the sober ones is beyond me.

Quinn was snoring lightly on my bed when I'd walked back in. I didn't want to wake her up, but she needed to get into something more comfortable and she really needed to drink water.

I'd gotten as far as getting her to drink the bottle of water and peeling her dress off before she insisted that she needed to sleep "right the fuck now," and that I needed to join her.

"_But you're half naked," _I'd whined. Surely she knew it was cruel to ask me to sleep that close to her with nothing on.

"_You've seen me in less," _she replied, her eyes closed and a smile playing at her lips.

"_Not fair, Quinn."_

"_Then take your damn clothes off too. Just get in this bed and cuddle me because I need to sleep NOW."_

I don't know why I listened to her. Maybe because I knew that feeling her skin against mine would be amazing and comforting and perfect. Maybe because being close to her gives me a sense of calm that is both unexpected and reassuring. Maybe because with all of our layers off it's like a physical representation of how I want to be with her emotionally.

No matter the reason, now I'm here, curled up against her, listening to her breathe. I can't tell if she's awake or not, so I carefully begin to extricate myself from her. I'm almost off the bed when she turns over and grabs my wrist tightly.

"Where are you going?" Her soft mumbled whisper is cute in its confusion.

"Shower."

She nods, but doesn't release my wrist. I wait, uncertain if she's fallen back asleep since she's never actually opened her eyes.

"Can I come?"

Hazel-green eyes open slowly as a small smile spreads across slightly chapped lips. She studies me, waiting for my answer. My heart has leapt at the same time that hot arousal shoots through me and my inner smart ass answers before I give it any thought at all.

"Well I'm sure you_ can_, the real question is how many _times_?"

* * *

For some reason I don't care at all that my roommates will be waiting on the bathroom when they wake up. I don't care that they will almost certainly have no hot water by the time we're finally out. I don't even care that I don't care, because Quinn is leaving today and this is the only actual room with walls and a door in the loft and I _need _her.

My fingertips trace the light pink scars that adorn the left side of her body. I've never told her how scared I was, how the moment she stood up again and I slipped my arm around her felt like God himself had just said _yes_ to my every prayer. She doesn't know I sent that kid Joe to keep her company after Britt and I danced together, certain that he would be a better comfort than I would, that he would know what to say. She doesn't know that I saw how he looked at her, and even though I loved Brittany so much, she doesn't know how much it killed me that he was allowed to and I wasn't.

At some point I'm going to tell her all of these things. I have the time to tell her everything, and she'll listen to me. It's a heady, overwhelming thought.

_We can make this work._

Quinn captures my lips with hers and covers my hand with her own. She pulls back and looks away, seemingly self-conscious.

"What's the matter?" I ask, softly.

"I just…hate these scars. And the stretch marks. It's like a reminder that my body has gone through too much to just be 20 years old."

I shake my head and then kiss her softly.

"You are _perfect_, Lucy Quinn Fabray. You've been through a lot, sure, but you've survived every time. And every time, you've gotten just a little bit stronger. It's one of the things I admire most about you. Who could possibly suspect that hidden beneath this beautiful exterior could be someone so smart, so brave, so tough? Seriously. How do you even exist?"

Quinn laughs a little breathy laugh that brings a grin to my face. She kisses me so sweetly my heart aches a little bit.

The tender gentleness of the kiss is gone in moments and when her tongue reaches mine I know exactly where we're headed.

* * *

The incessant banging on the door has reached a crescendo that can no longer be ignored. I wrap Quinn in one of Kurt's impossibly plush towels and then wrap my arms around her from behind, planting a kiss on her perfect soft cheek.

"Who knew you were such a romantic, Santana Lopez? I mean, besides Brittany."

I freeze in shock. We're fresh out of the shower, _still_ _naked_, and she brings this up? I turn away and grab a towel for myself.

"San, wait. Don't turn away."

I keep my back turned as I wrap the towel around me.

"I don't understand why she keeps coming up. Like, I get it, everyone thought we were endgame. I did, too. But it's over, it's _been_ over. I haven't brought up your exes. I don't want to talk about her. And after a shower with you, no less."

"You're right, this is bad timing. It wasn't intentional, it just kind of slipped out. But Santana, do you realize you haven't said her name once? That you stopped yourself when you almost did? I heard you talking to Rachel last night."

She is quiet behind me, waiting for a response, but I've got nothing. After a beat of silence her hands are on my shoulders, but then she moves them to rest on my hips. She gently turns me to face her.

"Let's go get dressed and then go for a walk and talk about things before I have to catch the train tonight, okay? I'm sorry, please pretend like I didn't say anything," Quinn is dipping her head to look me in the eye.

I sigh, because it's already out there, but I know I don't want to waste any of the time I have with her.

My slight nod is all she needs, and she brings her lips gently to mine, easily soothing away my irritation. After just a moment of hesitation I let myself go, pressing against her and kissing her back until another round of door hammering breaks us reluctantly apart.

* * *

We're walking hand in hand to one of my favorite local hole-in-the-wall restaurants. Quinn's hand feels cold in mine, so I slip both of our hands into the warmth of my coat pocket, not wanting to let go.

"You know, San, New York suits you. I knew it when we came to convince Rachel not to do that ridiculous student film, but now I have no doubt. I know it must have been a tough choice, but leaving Louisville was for the best, don't you think?"

I know she's trying to avoid directly mentioning Brittany, but my move to New York is intimately tied to the end of our relationship, and I can't talk about one without thinking of the other.

"Yeah, I mean…this move has definitely been an improvement. I needed to take the risk and challenge myself, and so far it's been more worth it than I could have ever expected."

She smiles lightly.

"And why's that?" Quinn is looking at me slyly, and I know she knows.

"You know why. Without New York my song doesn't get picked up, you don't hear it, this doesn't happen. That's reason enough for me."

She leans against me with a happy little smirk, but I stop and face her.

"Quinn…I'm always going to love Br-"

I pause and take a deep breath.

"I'm always going to love Brittany. She was the very first person who made me believe that love wasn't some imaginary sentiment. She's my first love, she's slowly becoming one of my best friends again, and Rachel is right, I'm going to need to tell her about us sooner rather than later. But what's important to me is that you know that I don't love her like that anymore. Do you believe that?"

"Of course I do, San. I know Britt is an important part of your life. You don't have to pretend like she isn't for me, okay? She's my friend, too. Whatever future we have is going to have her in it, so I just don't want you feeling like you've got to clam up whenever her name is spoken out loud."

My heart leaps when she says "future." I'll take any future with her I can get.

"Okay, so there's a future for us? Because I want to be with you, I want to see if we can make this work. Every single minute we've spent together has just reaffirmed that I'm still in love with you and I will go any distance, I will fight for you, Quinn."

The movie star smile I know so well graces her perfect mouth and she launches herself into me, stealing my breath with a kiss full of intention.

It's a kiss that says _YES._

* * *

The crazy rush of New York swirls around us on the platform at Penn Station, our reluctance to part becoming more and more evident with each passing moment. Kurt and Rachel kindly said their goodbyes and stepped away to wait for me, but I can't seem to let this gorgeous girl get on that train.

"Are you sure it's completely non-negotiable?" I ask her in a hushed whisper.

"I have class tomorrow, San. I have to go. But when I get back I'll call you on Skype and we'll look at our schedules and we'll plan the next time we see each other. I don't want to go, but we're going to make this work."

She rests her forehead against mine after giving me a slight peck. Her eyes are closed and I can feel her hesitancy. I know if I really pushed her I could get her to stay, but I also know that wielding that power irresponsibly will only hurt us in the long haul. Still, it is hard to fight back against the urge to beg.

Instead, I sigh deeply and pull her close to me, unsure of what words to say at this point. Suddenly, I remember.

"You know, I've been thinking about it, and if I had to guess, I'd say you probably clicked your phone off and sat in your chair with your eyes closed for a minute. Then you opened your laptop and looked up the train schedule. You didn't actually take the first train because you knew it would be at least 6 or 7 hours before I landed in New York. After you figured out your train situation, you got up and laid out different outfits for different scenarios, saving the outfit you'd wear to pick me up for last. You killed it, by the way, I almost died. Once you were all packed and ready to go, you took a shower and did your hair. You called Rachel to tell her you were coming once you were on the train, and then put some music on and picked up a book you've read a hundred times. You started reading from a random chapter and got lost in it until you arrived in New York. How'd I do?"

Quinn has leaned back and is studying me, a slow smile spreading on her angelic face.

"Awfully damn close, Miss Lopez, I'm impressed. Except that I couldn't actually get lost in my book, no matter how hard I tried. I kept fidgeting. I was so anxious and nervous to see you, but so excited too. I ended up buying and listening to the original versions of every song you ever sang as a solo in Glee. I like your version better of all of them, but having those songs on…I just sat back and pictured you singing. You're so talented, Santana. I'm so proud of you, and proud to be _with_ you."

I give her a little kiss that turns deeper when they announce her train and I know she has to go.

"You better get going, Q. I'll be waiting for your call."

"Okay. Talk to you later."

She brushes her lips against my cheek and then turns with her bag. She's almost on the train when the words finally spill from my mouth.

"Quinn?"

My heart leaps when she turns to look at me.

"I love you."

She smiles that smile…that damn smile that lights up the darkest places inside of me.

"I love you too, Santana."

She gets on the train and I stand there until it departs, Rachel and Kurt eventually coming to join me once I'm alone.

I'm feeling a weird combination of happy sadness that I'm not sure I could ever really explain.

She's gone, but she loves me.

She loves me, but she's not here.

_We love each other_.

Somehow, I just know that _this_ is the start. _This_ is the moment. And I smile as my roommates and I turn to walk away.


	5. The Freedom In Your Eyes

**A/N: Changed the rating to M because of the language. Sorry it's taken a minute to update, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Six Months Later**

I'm at the train station, waiting for my girlfriend to arrive. It's mind blowing to think that, even now.

Quinn Fabray is my_ girlfriend._

Until the end of time, this simple fact will leave me convinced that dreams do come true. Not that there haven't been bumps in the road, there certainly have been. Quinn and I are a combustion engine. When things are firing on all cylinders, we're hot and fast, taking each other so much farther than we'd ever thought we could go. Our competitive natures drives us both, but rarely causes a problem. When something slips, however…disaster. We're explosive in our disagreements, sending us careening wildly off track before we eventually get ourselves under control.

When we do inevitably right the ship, though…well, we're right back to hot and fast. Our many make-ups have had us both wondering aloud if maybe some of our fights are really inspired by the intense, fervent apologies we know we'll eventually get to. Either way, our road has certainly not been easy at all times. We even broke up once for about 10 minutes. We've agreed that it doesn't count since neither of us really wanted it, but to this day I cringe when I think about my stupidity and stubbornness during that fight.

We were fighting over, of all things, my relationship status on Facebook, but the argument ran much deeper than that. Quinn's parents still pay her Yale tuition, so despite our very open relationship in New York, we are essentially closeted everywhere else, including on social media. When I changed my relationship status I'd received an almost immediate call on Skype from my irate girlfriend.

"_You changed your status to 'single?' What the hell, Santana?"_

"_What do you want me to do? I had 'in a relationship' up and I kept getting asked who the hell I'm dating. Besides, yours says the same thing."_

Valid. All Valid.

"_That's not the same, and you know it. Leaving my status as 'single' keeps my parents off my back. You know I don't want it that way."_

"_Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to matter what we want when it comes to this, Quinn. I'm just trying to avoid questions I can't answer. In that world we aren't together, so leaving my status as 'in a relationship' only leaves room for people to question me."_

Questionable. Implying that we weren't totally together, in retrospect, might have been a mistake.

"_What the hell does THAT mean? There is no world in which we aren't together, Santana. And, FYI, cheating is cheating, in every world."_

"_Who said anything about cheating?! Let's put away the insane insecurities, please. All I'm saying is that we aren't together on Facebook, or Instagram, or anywhere else on the internet. So, IN THAT WORLD, we are not together!"_

Once again, poor choices on my part. Granted, I legitimately had never, and HAVE never even _considered_ cheating on Quinn. Still, going after the "we're not together in that world" mantra even harder was pretty dumb.

"_Listen to me carefully. We are together in every single world. We are together in every galaxy. There is not a single realm in the entire universe in which we are not together. I can't make it any clearer than that. If people ask about it, I don't see why you can't just lie."_

What I should have heard here was Quinn insisting that she loves me in every single possible realm of existence. She was claiming me as hers, and all I could fixate on was the lying part. Not my best moment.

"_No, I'm not going to lie. I've been nothing but supportive of your reasons for keeping this a secret, but I'm out, Q. I'm not going back in the closet for ANYBODY, not for YOU, not for your selfish, alcoholic mommy and DEFINITELY not for your controlling, emotionally abusive daddy. It's just not going to happen."_

Annnnnnd there it is. My most epic fail. The truth is, I _would_ go back into the closet to be with her, but I know she would never actually ask me to do that. If anything, Quinn is the more openly affectionate of us when we're together in New York. She wants to be with me, she's not ashamed of being with me, but her dreams will be dashed if she lets her parents know. I shouldn't have used that against her at all, let alone so hurtfully. The long silence from Quinn let me know that she was furious. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and harsh.

"_I see. Well, if that's how you feel, Santana, then maybe you shouldn't be wasting your time with someone who is dragging you down so much. And by the way, you are a FUCKING BITCH for even suggesting that I would do something like that to you. So FUCK YOU, Santana. FUCK YOU VERY MUCH."_

"_FUCK ME? REALLY? THAT WOULD BE A NICE CHANGE, BECAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED, I HAVEN'T HAD SEX IN __**WEEKS**__!"_

…I don't even know. I really don't know. I love sex, I do. I'm really good at it. But I love it _with Quinn_. I love being good at it _with Quinn_. So really, this was possibly the most idiotic comeback of all time. Which is upsetting for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that I've made an entire persona around burning people with sick insults and pithy comebacks.

"_WELL WE ALL KNOW HOW FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE IT IS FOR YOU NOT TO SPREAD IT AROUND, SO GET OUT THERE AND FUCK HALF OF NEW YORK FOR ALL I CARE, BECAUSE WE'RE SO DONE!"_

Quinn had cut off the call before I could respond, which burned me to no end as I stomped out of my curtained area of the loft. One look from Rachel and I started in on a tirade.

"_Did you hear any of that? Girl is fucking crazy. COMPLETELY INSANE. I can't believe we just broke up over a Facebook relationship status. It's just ridiculous!"_

"_I only heard your side of that, but…let me just ask you this, Santana. Do you really believe that Quinn wants to force you back into the closet?"_

I had opened my mouth to respond before snapping it shut and looking at Rachel in alarm. It hit me like a ton of bricks all at once that Quinn and I had just actually broken up. At first I was frozen in shock, and then all I could do was cry in my roommate's arms, completely horrified and heartbroken. Rachel had looped her arms around me and let me cry until she could walk me back to my computer and accept Quinn's third attempt to call me back. It hadn't taken very long for us to patch things up and of course plan an immediate trip to New Haven for me.

"Hey gorgeous, whatcha thinking about?"

I spin around in shock, shaken from my thoughts. Standing before me is my very own angel, her head tilted, a brilliant smile gracing her perfect mouth. In hardly two strides I have my arms wrapped around her and my lips on hers.

"Hi, baby."

I'm breathless, from both the kiss and the sheer joy of having her in my arms once more. I press another, softer kiss to her lips before pulling back slightly. I feel an odd weight on my chest from just thinking about that fight. I shake my head slightly to clear my thoughts.

"Hi," Quinn whispers gently, her eyes clearly reflecting the same happiness I feel as she observes me carefully. They darken slightly when she recognizes that something is off with me. "What's the matter, San?"

"Nothing, Q. I'm _so_ glad to see you. I was just thinking about our almost break up. I don't know why it was even on my mind, but seeing you is the cure all for anything. Give me another kiss and I'll be good to go."

Quinn smiles and leans in to give me another soft kiss.

"That near miss totally didn't count, remember? And, as I recall, the make up afterwards was _amazing_."

A rueful grin spreads across my lips at the memory. Being with this girl really is my cure all.

"So how tired are you? There are two _very_ excited Broadway babies waiting for us to get back to the loft. They want to take us out for our anniversary tonight since they know we'll be having nothing to do with them tomorrow for the actual day."

Quinn smiles and takes my hand as we start walking, staying close to the walls so as not to piss off the fast movers all around us.

"I could go out tonight. I anticipated this little development and took a nice nap on the train, so I'm totally game. You know where they are going to want to take us, right?"

My eyes roll instantly, because I do know. The predictability of my roommates leaves absolutely no doubt in my mind.

"Yup. And I love you, baby, I really do, but I'm not singing it again. Ask me for just about any other song, and I'll gladly sing to you, but not Cop Car."

"Mmm…deal," Quinn agrees with a smile.

I lean over and plant a quick kiss on her cheek by way of thanks.

"Maybe I'll get Rachel and Kurt to sing it as a duet instead."

Q is wearing the devilish smile I know so well when I snap my head around to look at her.

"You wouldn't."

"Well, that depends," she intones, her voice raspy and low.

"On?" I'm almost afraid to ask, but I can't have this duet from hell actually occur.

My girlfriend gives me her sexy smirk and my fear instantly gives way to excitement.

"I think you know."

* * *

A few hours later we're on the subway with the Wonder Twins, headed (of course) to Callbacks. Quinn is pressed against me, looking as pleased and sated as I've ever seen her. I give myself a mental high five for an above average performance and a few bonus points for somehow keeping her quiet enough so as not to earn a lecture from the fun police who like to pretend that I've _never_ heard them before.

Kurt looks at Quinn with narrowed eyes, and then looks at me and shakes his head. I smirk and shrug, then press a gentle kiss to my girlfriend's temple. Quinn tilts her head to give me an answering kiss on the lips just as the doors open at our stop. In a quick rush we're off the subway and headed for the street, laughing and teasing each other.

Inside Callbacks we scope out a table and quickly sit down. The Kurtchel combo immediately starts debating songs to sing and I know I have to take the reins early on.

"Okay listen, Winklevoss twins, we have agreed to come here because your dramatic, rom com obsessed little minds are convinced that Q and I are living out one of the most brilliantly scripted romances of all time. However, do NOT try to recreate the magic by signing me up to sing Cop Car. I can _promise _you that Quinn gets to hear it whenever she asks, but to be completely honest I'm pretty sure that between Keith and I, the song has been sung out. So please, let's not try to repeat the past, yes?"

My roommates roll their eyes and shake their heads.

"Please, Santana. You act like we don't know you at all. I personally don't see how you can miss the opportunity to sing that song on your anniversary when, after all, it is the reason you guys got together, but we respect your wishes and will not even consider signing you up to sing it."

Rachel gives her typical curt response before glancing away looking rather pleased with herself.

"What was that look?" I ask, suspicious.

"What look?" Rachel's eyes are wide in alarm. In fact, Kurt's are too.

"You had a look. What are you two planning?"

Kurt gives Rachel a sideways glare.

"_We_ aren't planning anything. I promise you, Santana."

I give him a long stare, my eyes narrowed as I try to put the pieces together. Something is definitely up.

"Yeah well, my psychic Mexican third eye says otherwise. And I'm never wrong. You both know that."

Quinn laughs, but it sounds forced and kind of weird. I look over at her, confused. She avoids my eye contact as she looks for something to say.

"You're not even Mexican, Santana."

My eyes widen and I see my roommates snap to attention at this little tidbit of information.

"What?! She's been lording over us with this crazy psychic eye thing for over a year! She's not Mexican?"

Kurt is looking between Quinn and me, waiting for one of us to answer his question. Q keeps her eyes away from mine as she answers him, but reaches for my hand.

"No, she's not Mexican," Kurt and Rachel both throw their hands up in irritation, "BUT she _is _really insightful and smart about stuff that none of us even see. You should still listen to her "psychic Mexican third eye," if only because it has never steered you wrong in the past."

"Hmmph," my roommates huff in annoyance.

Quinn glances over at me and I give her a questioning look. Something is so off about this whole little exchange. I get the distinct feeling that Q is trying to distract me, but the poor eye contact is oddly evasive for her. Quinn knows my weaknesses all too well, normally she'd be all about soft touches and meaningful looks to get me completely off track. She's trying entirely too hard.

I'm suspicious as all hell and I know she can see it in my eyes when she leans over to kiss me. Again, it's an odd kiss, at least at first. When she breaks her mouth away from mine and brings her lips to within inches of my ear, I nearly melt as her soft breath caresses my skin when she whispers.

"Just trust me, baby. Don't look so worried."

She gently nips my earlobe before pulling back and a shiver shoots up my spine.

"Okay, but only if I get another kiss," I tell her, already forgetting what I was so suspicious of.

Quinn grins and presses her lips to mine quickly.

"I'm going to go order us some drinks. Usual, babe?"

My pretty girlfriend is already backing away from the table, so I just nod and watch her traipse away. She's just too damn cute to look away from.

"So! What are your plans for tomorrow, Santana? Something ridiculously romantic, I hope?"

Kurt is leaning forward on his elbows, his eyes dreamy and expectant. Rachel grins at me and raises her eye brows. I immediately roll my eyes, even as a smile spreads across my face. I debate confessing my anniversary plans with the two of them, but give in quickly. I'm so excited.

"Well…first, we'll be going back to a hotel tonight. I've already planned to order us room service so that I can bring her breakfast in bed. Then I'm taking her to Central Park, to the same bench we sat on the first weekend we spent together, where there will be a whole bunch of Quinn's favorite flowers waiting, and then—"

"Hi everyone…"

My head snaps around to the stage at the familiar raspy voice coming through the speakers. Standing in front of the microphone is Lucy Quinn Fabray, looking nervous and shy. I glance around at the crowd as they quiet down and turn their attention to my girlfriend.

"I'm Quinn, and I'd like to sing a song tonight for my girlfriend, Santana Lopez. Six months ago she sat on this very stage and sang a song she wrote for me called Cop Car. I'm sure many of you have heard of it."

The crowd hoots at that a bit, and I feel my face flush slightly. Kurt and Rachel are both grinning like the Cheshire cat, and I realize that they've been in on this all along. Rach holds out a folded letter for me to take as Quinn speaks again.

"So I wanted to take this opportunity to get up here and sing for her in return. Kurt, would you mind coming up here to help me out? Ladies and Gentlemen, one of your own, Kurt Hummel."

My mouth is hanging open when Kurt gets up to resounding cheers from his classmates. He does little bows as he prances to the stage. Rachel reaches across the table and taps the paper in my hand, and I quickly open it to read.

_Santana,_

_I can't hear this song and not think of you. _

_Know this: You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I don't think I'll ever be able to keep my hands off of you. I don't want to hide us for even one second more. I'm sorry I tore your dress at the almost-wedding. I love you, so very much._

_Forever yours,_

_Quinn_

I look up, somewhat confused, as Kurt nods to Quinn, a guitar in his hands. Pieces are flying into place now. Elliott has been teaching him the guitar for a while and lately he's been playing the same chords over and over, but never sings along with it.

"Without further ado…here goes. This song is called The Right Way and it's originally by Ron Pope."

Quinn looks down as the music starts around her, then looks up into my eyes as she starts singing.

_Pretty new dress  
__I just can't keep my hands off of you  
__And you look so small, all wrapped up in my arms  
__I'm so  
__In love with you_

_And I'm yours if you're mine  
__Don't wanna waste no more time_

_Cause I wanna live,  
__I wanna love you the right way  
__And I wanna fall asleep, then wake up with you beside me  
__I won't spend the rest of my life  
__Running from everything that's right  
__I wanna live_

_I ripped your dress  
__In the frenzy to get close to your skin  
__Yes I did  
__You tried not to laugh  
__Stood there in your slip, you said  
__Come here to me_

_I'm yours if you're mine  
__Don't wanna waste no more time_

_Cause I wanna live,  
__I wanna love you the right way  
__And I wanna fall asleep, then wake up with you beside me  
__I won't spend the rest of my life  
__Running from everything that's right  
__I wanna live_

_And I'm yours if you're mine  
__Don't wanna waste no more time_

_Cause I wanna live,  
__And I wanna love you the right way  
__And I wanna fall asleep, then wake up with you beside me  
__I won't spend the rest of my life  
__Running from everything that's right  
__I wanna live_

I'm dumbstruck as I watch Quinn sing the chorus one last time. She's a vision on that stage, I can't think of a time when I've seen her sing so passionately, so fully. Her voice is always beautiful, but as I listen to her I am amazed by the power it has tonight.

As the last note plays, the crowd cheers and gets on their feet. I'm still frozen in my seat, awed by the moment and the girl and the tremendous love we have for one another. By the time I finally get on my feet and join the cheering, Quinn is halfway to me. I look her in the eye and shake my head, feeling tears threatening to fall on my cheeks.

Quinn's tender, soft kiss is my breaking point, sending happy tears sliding down my face as she smiles and brushes them away with her thumbs.

"I love you, Santana."

"God, I love you too. So, so much."

Kurt comes bounding back to the table gleefully.

"Did I miss it?!" he questions Rachel in a loud whisper.

"No, shut up!" Rachel hisses back at him.

I look away from Quinn and give them a look.

"Miss what?"

Quinn tugs on my hands to get me to look at her, a radiant smile on her face.

"Miss me telling you that I'm transferring to Columbia. I start classes in two weeks, I was only in New Haven to pack some last remaining things. I'm moving to New York, babe. And I managed to get enough scholarship money for my last two years to be out from underneath my parents' thumb, so I told them about us before I left Yale today. I want to be with you, Santana, the right way. All the way. I refuse to live another minute pretending otherwise. So I'm yours, fully, in every world, galaxy, universe, and realm. All yours, only yours, for as long as you'll have me."

I'm speechless. She's coming to New York. She's out. She did all of this to be with _me._

_I am the luckiest woman on earth_.

* * *

Quinn is lying with her head on my chest in our amazing hotel room, her breathing still a bit heavy.

"Are you sure it's normal or healthy to have this many orgasms in one day?" she asks me, her tone light with laughter.

"Normal? Probably not. Sadly I think much of America is lacking compared to us. But healthy…I'd say we're a hell of a lot healthier than the sad souls who aren't getting nearly as many. I mean, we're getting more cardio and muscular endurance workouts than 95% of the public. We should do this as an Olympic sport," I tease jokingly.

"It wouldn't be fair. We'd win the gold every time."

I laugh a little at that before murmuring "true." We lie in comfortable silence for a while, my fingertips running lightly up and down Quinn's arm.

"So where will you be living? Near campus?"

"Well, I got a place in Morningside Heights. It's right next to Columbia, but like an hour subway ride to Bushwick. I figured we could use a little buffer time before we move in together, but ideally I'd like for that to happen sooner rather than later…if you're on the same page of course."

I'm surprised at her bold assertion. We've never really discussed this since I assumed she'd be at Yale for the next two years.

"God, yes, I'd love to wake up to you every day, Quinn. But why didn't you tell me you were considering transferring in the first place?"

Q shifts so she can look at me, propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin on her palms.

"I wanted to be sure that I was doing all of this for the right reasons, not just because it would be easier on us. I looked into the program and the costs, I talked to the department head about financial aid and scholarships, and then I just laid out the pluses and minuses. I'm going to have debt now, but not a terrible amount. My father has disowned me again, but that's not really a loss, since he never really treated me the same after Beth anyway. I'm still going to an amazing school that will open up doors for me. And I'm closer to the one person in my life who has made me feel…capable, and strong, and smart. In the end, I'm gaining so much more than I'm losing."

I lean forward to give her a swift kiss on the lips.

"I'm so glad you're going to be closer, babe, but I am sorry about your dad. How did your mom react?"

"Don't be, he's an asshole. Judes will probably come around. She's afraid of losing me. I'll still have her, at least in some capacity."

I sigh and shake my head. Losing my abuela was hard, I can't imagine if my own _parents_ reacted badly. If anything my mom just became more protective. My dad didn't seem to care at all either way, which was nice. We both kind of knew all along that when our relationship became known Quinn would lose so much more than I would.

"Hey," my girlfriend nudges me, "don't feel bad for this, okay? I'm relieved, honestly. It was only a matter of time, and really I just decided I didn't want to wait anymore. No more hiding, no more pretending to be single or straight or anything other than in love with you. This is 100% a good thing. In fact…"

Quinn rolls over away from me and hops up off the bed to dig in her purse. I'm mesmerized watching her perfect naked body and almost miss that she's holding her cell phone.

"Hey! No taking nude pics, that's just rude," I tease.

Q laughs that adorably raspy laugh of hers and shakes her head at me. She puts down her phone and grabs mine off the end table, crawling back on to the bed to hand it to me. I give her a questioning look as I take it.

"You need to confirm your new relationship status, Santana. Everyone knows that if it's not on FB then it's not official, and you are most certainly _my_ girlfriend. I want everyone to know it, too."

I blink at her in surprise, then quickly log on to Facebook account. Sure enough, I have a relationship request from Quinn Fabray, asking me to confirm that we're together.

I smile up at the radiant girl in front of me as I click "accept," then pull her down next to me. We share a long, soft kiss.

"Can I tell you something without freaking you out?" I ask quietly.

"Of course, babe."

Quinn nuzzles her nose into my neck and drops a light kiss on my skin before pulling back to observe me expectantly. I grin at her and then lean forward to whisper against her lips.

"I'm going to marry you someday, Quinn."

My girlfriend sucks in a sharp breath of air and kisses me passionately for a moment before giving me her patented smirk.

"Not if I marry you first."


	6. Locked in Tight

**A/N: Listened to "Easier Tonight" by Matt Wertz like 40 times while I wrote this. Check it out. I hope you guys enjoy this update!**

* * *

**2 years later**

"What about this one?" Rachel asks, indicating an absolutely gaudy diamond ring about four times above my spending limit. Quinn and I are doing pretty well for ourselves considering we're in our early 20's and she's fresh out of college, but we're definitely not rolling in dough.

I raise my eyebrow and bite my tongue to keep from snapping at her. We've been at this for hours and haven't found the right ring yet.

Rachel takes in my expression and immediately starts laughing.

"God, Santana, I was just kidding. Quinn would take one look at that thing and say no. We'll find something, don't worry." She rolls her eyes at me in an affectionate way. I'm dubious, but accept the one armed squeeze she gives me around my waist.

In truth, Rachel was not my first choice for this endeavor. Not through any fault of her own really, it's just that she occasionally gets the random photographer who snaps unwanted photos, and I _really_ don't want pics of us leaving a jewelry store showing up anywhere Quinn might see them. I originally asked Kurt, because he really has a good eye for what works, but he had a previous commitment and I didn't want to put off my search. He'd be able to see a ring and immediately picture it on my beautiful girlfriend, a talent I evidently do not possess. I know Q better than I know anyone on earth, but somehow the right engagement ring as eluded me. I keep wandering around dejectedly. There are so many options.

"We're overthinking this," Rachel says, putting her hands on my slumped shoulders and looking me in the eye. "Quinn is a beautiful girl, she doesn't need a flashy ring. Her style has always been this kind of understated elegance. She's the 'Ghost of Grace Kelly.' We need to think simple."

"Ghost of Grace Kelly?" I ask, confused.

"Yeah, remember Jesse St. James? He called her that the night of our junior prom and it stuck with me. She really is such a pretty girl, well, woman now."

I smile lightly and nudge my friend.

"Easy tiger, she's taken."

Rachel gives me an exaggerated eye roll and then grins brightly.

"Can you imagine if someone told us in high school we'd be shopping together for an engagement ring for Quinn Fabray? We'd have laughed in their face, and then you would've probably torn their soul apart with some precision insults." Rachel laughs at the image in her head, but I wince at the apt description of my high school self. I wish I could go back in time and talk to that girl. She was such a bitch. Funny, but definitely a bitch. Rach doesn't miss my reaction.

"Hey, don't take that wrong. Even back then you were a better friend than you got credit for. And now you're one of my best friends, so don't get all Debbie Downer on yourself."

I shake my head and drape my arm over the shoulders of my miniature friend.

"I'm not sure if I would've been more shocked that I'm with Quinn or that I'm best friends with Broadway's brightest new star, Rachel Berry."

"Oh definitely that we're friends. I mean, you and Brittany had something really significant, but looking back now it actually makes a lot of sense that you ended up with Quinn. Like you and Britt were always meant to be a team, but with Quinn you've always had this intense passion. You could be so brutal to each other, but you also made each other better. It was only a matter of time before you harnessed all of that emotion and turned it into something amazing."

We walk in silence as I absorb everything that she just said. It's nothing we haven't spoken about before, but it still makes my heart flutter when I think about all of the little steps Quinn and I took to uncover the love that we share.

"We are pretty amazing, aren't we?" I ask with a smile.

"Only if you're into gooey, mushy love. I personally find you two rather disgusting."

I laugh, because if anyone appreciates our obvious devotion to one another, it's Rachel. And Kurt, too. Especially Kurt.

"Okay, how about this? Let's go by Tiffany's and if we don't find it there we'll call it a day and get dinner, my treat."

"Deal!"

* * *

Quinn is still asleep, her naked body half covered by our comforter. I admire the view for a moment before I quietly dig through my many pairs of shoes to find a pair of seldom used flats buried below a mountain of pumps. Hidden inside is a small blue box containing the most important piece of jewelry I've ever bought. I open it and study the simple platinum band and single princess cut diamond set on it. Rachel was so right. The simplicity fits my unassuming girlfriend, but the 1.5 carat diamond also reflects my flashier tendencies. It's a good fit for a ring meant to display our promise to each other. I can't wait to give it to her.

I carefully tuck the ring away again and head back to my sleeping hopefully soon-to-be fiancé. She stirs slightly as the mattress dips beneath me. I climb over her and begin placing feather light kisses along her spine, slowly working my way up. Goosebumps appear in the wake of my light caresses and Quinn lets out a soft sigh.

My lips take a short detour to ghost along the faded scars on her left side. It took me a long time and an abundance of persistence to earn the right to touch those scars without Quinn immediately reacting to distract my attention from them. Some might say the scars mar her otherwise perfect canvas of silky soft skin, but I don't see them that way at all. To me they are a symbol of a battle hard won. Quinn could easily still be in a wheelchair or using crutches. Really, Quinn could have easily been killed in that accident. Instead she is flourishing, ever the achiever. As much as I wish she'd never been through the struggle, I love those scars. Dead people don't heal, they don't have scars. She survived. She overcame. She's so very alive, and she brings _me_ to life every single day.

Quinn brings her shoulders to her ears when my light kisses tickle at her neck.

"Baaabyyy" she whines, her eyes still closed.

"Good morning, my love. I was gonna make us breakfast. You want some eggs? Or I can go out and get us bagels, your choice."

Quinn nods sleepily, "Mmm, okay. But can you just lay with me for a little bit first?"

I smile inwardly at her non-answer and settle myself down next to her. She immediately turns herself into my arms and snuggles up against me. I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes.

I could definitely do this for the rest of my life.

* * *

"What if I like, somehow arrange for us to go back to where we first met and I ask her there?"

Rachel makes a face.

"You want to ask Quinn to marry you on the McKinley High football field? I'm going to vote no for that because a) Blaine pretty much did that idea with Kurt, except at Dalton, and b)..." my friend pauses and looks at me, "Finn asked me to marry him at McKinley..it's like this symbol of our collective past. You and Quinn are moving into an amazing future, and you weren't even involved there. If anything high school drove you two apart because you competed at _everything_. I really think you need something more about your story."

I sigh deeply. I can't believe how difficult this is. Some part of me knows that Quinn won't care where we are or how I ask. But then there's this part of me that wants to give her something so unforgettably perfect that she never forgets a single detail.

"I told her I loved her for the first time at the train station..." I say weakly, knowing the hot, putrid underground of New York City is not what I'm looking for.

Rachel's head snaps up, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Yeah, but there did you actually _fall_ in love with her?"

I give her a look, because the story of mine and Quinn's relationship has been told and re-told so many times at this point that it's kind of ridiculous.

"You know where, in the back of that cop-" I suddenly catch up to where Rachel is going. "Holy shit that's totally it. You're a genius, Berry."

* * *

Quinn and I have spent a lazy Sunday morning languidly making love. I love these days, when it's not about torrid passion (which is always extremely hot, don't get me wrong), but simply about taking our time loving each other and exploring each other's bodies again.

Quinn is flushed from the orgasm that she just came down from, and she looks absolutely radiant. I place light kisses up her stomach, between her soft breasts, and along her neck and jaw before reaching her lips. I'm kissing her slowly when she suddenly smiles against my mouth and rolls us so that she's half on top of me. She places her hands on top of one another on my chest and rests her chin on her hands, her eyes on mine and a smirk on her face.

"What babe?" I inquire quietly.

"Nothing, sometimes I just need to look at you and remind myself that you're really mine. You're so beautiful, Santana Lopez."

I blush and look away for a second.

"I don't hold a candle to you, Fabray. You're the prettiest girl in the whole world…'the ghost of Grace Kelly,'" I respond with a smile at Rachel's words.

Quinn tilts her head and looks at me curiously.

"Where did you get that from? Been catching up with Jesse St. James lately?"

I laugh lightly and pick my head up to give her a swift peck.

"No, Rachel said it recently and explained that he called you that. Pretty accurate though."

My gorgeous girlfriend shakes her head at me and buries her face against my chest for a second.

"You're crazy, hot stuff."

"Sure am, crazy 'bout you," I reply like a huge dork.

"You're such a dork, I love it," she confirms before kissing me slowly, deeply. I know we'll be ready to go again soon, so I jump in quickly before we get any further, testing the waters.

"I love you. I could easily spend forever with you and feel like it wasn't enough," I hint as lightly as I can. We've talked about getting married many times, the conversations becoming more serious as Quinn neared graduation from Columbia, but before I put the plan in action I just want to make sure one more time.

Quinn smiles and closes her eyes for a moment before fixing me with a loving, satisfied look.

"Me too, Santana. It'll never cease to amaze me that you picked me. I'm the luckiest girl, truly."

Yep, definitely going to marry this woman.

I kiss her gently and whisper against her lips. "I'll always pick you."

* * *

I draw a deep breath and prepare myself for my monologue. Many, many pieces have been coordinated to ensure that my plan goes off without a hitch, but I still haven't ironed out exactly what I want to say when I ask Quinn to marry me.

"Quinn. Falling in love with you when I was 17 was never part of the plan, nor did I ever imagine that you could love me back. But since that very first night, right here, so many years ago, I have known deep in my heart that I would always love you. You have pushed me, taught me, and awoken parts of me that I didn't know existed. You make me a better a human being. For as long as I live, I promise to stand by you, support you, rely on you, and love you with all that I have in me. Will you marry me?"

I hold my breath and wait for the verdict, my nerves on edge.

Rachel gives me a broad grin and claps her hands together quickly.

"That was really good, Santana. Like, really good. I totally would have said yes if that were for real."

The air leaves my lungs in a loud whoosh. "You think? I'm afraid that I'll forget half of it when I have to say it for real. Like maybe I should aim for something a little bit shorter and to the point."

"Well, why don't you write it down, just in case? So if you do forget a part you can just show her after."

I give her dubious look.

"You don't think that's kind of…lame?"

Rachel tilts her head back and forth with a shrug and considers it, before finding her answer.

"Honestly, I think that Quinn is in love with you and wants to marry you. I think that she is going to say yes no matter what, speech or no. I think that none of this will be considered lame by her. I think you need to stop stressing yourself out and enjoy all of this, because you'll only do it once." I get a pointed look from my friend and she raises her eyebrows as if to dare me to challenge her statement.

I open my mouth to answer her when someone hits the buzzer downstairs.

"Oh, that'll be Kurt! Good, you can ask him what he thinks," Rachel tells me as she hits the button to let him up.

A frown forms on my face, because Kurt has been really bumming me out. "I don't know, he's been kind of avoiding me lately, he has turned down like, four or five invites to get together. Which, okay, we're all busy, but I know for a fact Quinn has seen him."

Rachel seems stumped by this information. "That's weird, I told him we went ring shopping and you two are all he's been talking about with me since. He's asked me like a thousand times about your plans. He's been so incredibly _Kurt_ about this whole thing. I don't think he's mad at you, San."

I shrug. "Okay, just wait and see."

Kurt walks in a few moments later, knocking as he opens the door.

"Where's my favor- oh, hey Santana." Kurt looks furtively between Rachel and me.

"Well, hello Kurt. Long time, no see," I respond coolly, turning to gather my things. I don't know what his problem is, but I'm not going to sit around here and watch him be all awkward if he won't tell me why.

"I know, I'm _so_ sorry about that. It's just been a crazy couple of weeks."

"Oh? Is that why you've been able to take the time to see my girlfriend, but can't find 20 minutes to grab coffee with me?" I am unsuccessful in my attempt to keep the hurt from my voice, and that bothers me almost as much as the reason I'm hurt in the first place. I snatch up my purse and move past him towards the door.

"Santana, wait!" Rachel calls after me, clearly surprised by this back and forth.

I turn and give her a quick smile, intentionally ignoring Kurt's pleading expression. "Thanks for your help, Rachel, I'll call you later."

With that I'm out the door.

* * *

Quinn and I are at my parents' house in Lima, helping my mom with the dishes. I have set up a ruse for our return home that my mom and dad are very much in on. They know that I plan on asking her to marry me tonight, but have done a remarkable job of keeping their excitement in check. Only once has my mom looked around Q to give me an ecstatic smile, which I couldn't help but return.

Their support has meant so much to me, and to Quinn, considering her father has been so contemptuous towards us. I couldn't care less what that asshole thinks of me, but I know that it hurts my girlfriend that he has made a point of insulting me and my family because I, as he puts it, "made his daughter into a dyke." Judy has at least had the backbone to maintain a relationship with Quinn despite Russell's disapproval. I can't really understand how she can stay with a man who is so obviously emotionally abusive towards her youngest daughter, but I guess it's just one of those things. I called Judy before we left New York to ask her permission to marry Quinn, and she actually granted it. I would've asked Q to marry me even if she'd said no, but it's nice to know that she wants us to be happy.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself to put the final part of the plan in action.

"Hey Mom, is it okay if I borrow Dad's truck for a few hours?"

She nods, clearly fighting a grin, "Sure, honey. Where are you headed?"

"Nowhere special, just figured Q and I could go for a ride around town, since we don't come back very often," I reply, fighting not to roll my eyes at my mother's terrible acting. It's really a wonder that I have any acting talent at all.

"Oh, okay. His keys are on the hook next to the door. Just don't leave it on empty, okay?"

_Much better, Mom. _"No problem, I'll fill it up before we get back. Come on, babe. Let's go for a drive."

Quinn gives my mom a light kiss on the cheek.

"See you later, Maribel."

"Bye girls!"

* * *

Our path around Lima has been seemingly quite random, but it's not. We've stopped at some of our favorite places along the way, but I'm slowly getting us closer to our final location. I make one more turn and swallow down my nerves.

"I know where we should go next." My voice is somewhere between a croak and a rasp as a result of my bone-dry mouth.

Quinn is looking for a good song on the radio, suitably distracted from my clear awkwardness. "Where's that, babe?"

"I wanna show you something," I say simply.

We're thankfully pretty close to where we're going by now, and my girlfriend is distracted by her phone. She stops texting and looks up when I turn off the road, turning to give me a big smile.

"Trying to get us arrested again, Lopez?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

I smile in response and keep driving until I find our spot and park the truck.

"Come on," I tell her, hopping out of the truck and grabbing a blanket and a mini speaker.

I've decided to wait until after the first plane flies overhead to pop the question, but my nerves are definitely catching up with me when Quinn lies down next to me in the bed of the truck. She cozies up to me and we snuggle against the cool fall air, listening to the soft music in silence.

My phone buzzes with a text message.

**Kurt: Good luck tonight. All of our love to you both. –Kurtchel**

I stare at the text for a long moment, but a loud rumbling distracts me from responding. When the plane finally passes over us, Quinn squeezes me tightly, the same brilliant smile on her face as she wore when we were 17 in this very spot. The butterflies in my stomach as I watch her are familiar as well.

_Here goes nothing_.

I sit up and turn the music off, then turn to my girlfriend.

"Quinn, I-"

The flash of blue lights stops me short. My mouth drops open in shock.

_No fucking way._ This is _not_ part of the plan.

When I turn to look at her, Quinn starts laughing at my expression. She stops when I give her an exasperated look and instead bites her lip cutely.

I sigh when I recognize the same older cop from our last visit 5 years ago. His portly body and sullen expression are unmistakable, even in the dim light of the evening.

"Well good evening, ladies. Please step down from the back of the truck." His tone is almost gleeful, and I wonder if he doesn't recognize us as well.

We both hop down and lean against the truck. I can actually _feel_ the attitude rolling off Quinn, and I'm almost afraid of what she's about to do.

"You two are trespassing. I'm going to have to ask you to turn around and place your hands behind your back."

Quinn sighs and pushes herself off the truck. "Is that really necessary?"

"I'm afraid so, young lady."

"Well I'm afraid I have to disagree. We're just watching the planes take off, we're not hurting anyone."

My eyes snap back and forth between the cop and my girlfriend. Her features are calm in the face of defying authority, but her eyes are dancing with mirth. She's _enjoying_ this.

The cop narrows his eyes in a comically overdone expression of disapproval. I almost laugh out loud, but instead just shake my head.

"Be that as it may, you are breaking the law. Please turn around."

I comply, shouldering Quinn as I turn around. She stands insolently for a moment in refusal, but then slowly turns towards the truck. We glance at each other while he handcuffs me, but I don't hold her gaze when he pulls her hands back and clicks cuffs on her as well. My engagement plan is officially completely fucked.

In short order we are walked over to the police car. Quinn is put in the back seat first, but the cop stops me before I can follow her in.

"I appreciate your cooperation," he tells me as he removes my handcuffs, "so I'm gonna take these handcuffs off of you, but I'm still going to need to put you in the car, okay?"

I nod and lower myself into the backseat, regarding my girlfriend warily. She looks _pissed_.

"That guy is a total asshole, Q. It's my fault, I shouldn't have brought us here again. I promise I'll get us out of this somehow, I'll call my mom and she'll-"

"Santana-"

"She'll have her firm defend-"

"_SANTANA._"

I stop rambling and look at my girlfriend, only to find her smiling ear to ear.

"I'm not upset at all. We'll be fine, just like last time," she says, leaning forward to give me a light kiss.

"I just can't believe the cops came again! Where were they to keep me from hooking up with Puckerman? Seriously!"

Quinn makes a face and shakes her head.

"I'm ignoring that, because I'd rather you be in a police car in trouble with me than doing _anything_ with Puck, and because I need you to listen to me for a couple of minutes, okay?"

I nod and try to quell my frustration. Quinn takes a deep breath and looks at me seriously.

"Okay…so for a really long time I stopped believing in happy endings. I stopped believing in love. It took one night with you, and one beautiful, incredible song to convince me otherwise, and all of that started right where we are now. Santana, you have been the brightest light in my life for two and a half years. For so long I felt like a ship lost at sea, but you have been the wind in my sails that keeps me going, the anchor that keeps me steady, and the lighthouse that leads me home. I love you, so much more than I could ever express in words."

She smiles at me as she pulls her hands out from behind her and presents a diamond ring to me.

"Will you please spend forever with me?"

I'm dumbstruck, staring blankly at the ring in front of me. And then it hits me.

_She planned this. She hijacked my proposal. She just asked me to __**marry**__ her. Say yes, you idiot. Speak._

"Yes! Oh my God, Quinn, yes, of course I will!"

I slide across the seat and meet her halfway for a long, intense kiss before she pulls back and grabs my hand to put the ring on my finger. I look at it for a moment and remember that I have hers in my jacket pocket. I pull out the box and hold it up, my eyebrow raised.

"Before I give you yours, I want to know how you knew."

Quinn smirks and gives me a light kiss before answering.

"I asked Kurt to help me pick a ring, and then we started planning the proposal. When you asked him to help you like a week or two later he ended up having to tell me that you were going to beat me to it so that I didn't book all of these plans I was making. So I begged him to find out what you were planning on doing so that I could make a new plan. That's why he was acting weird with you, too. He felt awful about it, actually."

I shake my head and laugh a little. "So the cop? Clearly you weren't really handcuffed…?"

"Oh Puck is a Lima cop now, believe it or not. So I asked him to find Officer MacMillan from the first time this happened to us, and it turned out that the angry older cop, Officer Hardy, was available for the job of arresting us. He put the cuffs on me really loosely so that I could slide them off once we got in. So here we are, in the back of a cop car." Her smile is so broad and self-satisfied as she holds up her removed handcuffs that I can't help but grin back.

I look down at the box in my hand for a second and then open it and present it to my future wife. I've forgotten my carefully planned, sweet, touching speech and just give her my typical off the cuff snark.

"Quinn Fabray, even though you totally jacked my proposal, I want to spend the rest of my life being yours, growing with you, and learning from you. I promise to compromise, even when I know I'm right; I promise to do the dishes, even when it's your turn; I promise to watch awful foreign films with you, even though I don't understand any of them. Mostly, I promise to love you, whether we're happy or sad, making love or fighting, together or apart. I've already agreed to marry you, but would you please agree to be mine too?"

Quinn whispers "_yes_" and then follows it with a kiss, a soft unhurried kiss that shoots tingles throughout my whole body and transfers some of the tears on her cheeks to mine. I wipe hers away with a smile and then clear my own face. _We're getting married_.

"Seriously how did you just come up with a better speech than mine on the fly like that? So not fair!" Quinn is smiling as she sniffs and wipes at her eyes.

"You're ridiculous, I came up with this whole really good speech, but I totally lost it when you just _had _to beat me to the proposal," I respond with a laugh.

My fiancée kisses me once more and then knocks on the window.

"Let's get out of here and get naked," she says, a smirk playing at her lips.

I nod emphatically.

"Yes, let's do that."


	7. Man, Ain't This Some Shh

**A/N: At one point while writing this I remembered that this story was supposed to be a one shot and I laughed out loud. Anyway, please let me know what you think of this chapter, it's been in the works for a minute now and has been re-written an ungodly number of times, so I hope you enjoy it. Happy Hump Day!**

* * *

6 Months Later

"What's wrong, Santana?"

Quinn is standing in front of me, her face knitted in concern. Her hands reach out for what I'm holding, but freeze halfway to me when I pull back and shake my head.

"San. What is it?"

I blink back the tears in my eyes and raise my eyes to my fiancée's slowly.

"Britt…she RSVP'd to the wedding." I flick my wrist and send the response card spinning through the air. "She's not coming, Quinn. She fucking said 'no' to coming to our wedding!"

"What?!"

I slump against the back of the couch and run my hand through my hair while Quinn stomps over to the RSVP on the floor and picks it up in disbelief.

"This doesn't make any sense. I thought we were past her having an issue with us. You told her we were getting engaged, right? You didn't just send her the invite without talking to her first, right San?"

"I…told her I was thinking about asking you before we got engaged. She didn't seem too excited about it so I didn't mention it again after we did. I didn't think she'd actually say _no_ to coming to the wedding though."

Quinn's expression changes quickly from shock to fury, her eyebrow cocked in that way that struck fear in most of our high school classmates. Her voice is low and unnaturally calm when she speaks to me. "I can't believe you, Santana. Not only was that legitimately cruel to do to Brittany, but do you have any idea how this makes me feel? We're getting _married_, and you didn't tell your ex-girlfriend because you didn't want to hurt her feelings? You two haven't been together in years, and yet somehow the biggest event of our lives was swept under the rug for her. Lovely."

"You know it wasn't like that, Q. I just didn't know what to tell her."

My eyes flicker to the floor as I speak, but I hear Quinn scoff at my weak explanation.

"I have some ideas for you. Maybe, 'hey Britt, guess what? Quinn and I are getting married!' or 'I have some great news, Brittany. Quinn asked me to marry her and I said yes!' or you could have gotten really crazy with it and gone with 'Quinn and I are engaged!' Literally any of those would have worked better than just sending her a wedding invitation. You're a coward, Santana Lopez, and you are going to reap what you have sown now. You need to fix this."

Indignation flashes through me when she calls me a coward and I lash back without thinking.

"Why didn't you just tell her then, if it's so easy, huh? She's your friend, too. You could have let her know if you wanted to."

"You're fucking kidding, right?" Quinn asks as she moves quickly in front of me, her finger pointed at my chest and her eyes narrowed. "You can't possibly be serious. Brittany was in love with _you_, not me. She needed to hear this from _you_, not me. Don't try to turn it around. You spent so much time worrying about hurting your two best friends with your feelings, and guess what, the moment has arrived. You need to un-fuck this with Brittany, and you need to figure out _why_ you couldn't bring yourself to tell her something that you _claimed_ was the best thing that ever happened to you."

"You _are_ the best th-"

Quinn silences me with her hand and continues.

"Just don't right now. I love you, and I want to marry you, but this fucking hurts, Santana. I've done my best to be supportive of your friendship with Britt and I have trusted that you chose _me_, but this feels like you chose her. You chose to protect her feelings over being proud to be with me, and that sucks on a level that I can't even get my mind around. I think you should call Brittany. I'm going over to Rachel's. Please just give me some time and space."

I close my eyes when Quinn leans forward and kisses my cheek sharply, almost as if it's an obligation and not a choice. She grabs a jacket and her purse without another word, and leaves me leaning against the couch.

The weight on my chest feels all encompassing, as if it's crushing every bit of me. I knew deep in my heart that I'd chosen the worst possible way of going about this when we sent the invitations out, but Quinn is right, I was a coward about it. I figured Brittany would hear it from someone at some point, even if she has inexplicably abandoned all social media.

I pull out my phone and stare at it, my stomach doing little flips. It's eerily reminiscent of the moment before I called her to tell her Quinn and I were dating, just about three years ago.

* * *

April 2014

I swallow nervously as the phone rings and glance at Quinn, who is studying me intently. She has gently insisted, yet again, that I tell Brittany that we're dating. I'm out of excuses at this point. It's not that I'm not proud of being with Q, it's just that I'd rather stab myself than cause Britt any pain. Somehow I'm certain that the news I'm about to tell her will not go over well.

"_Hi Sanny!"_ Brittany answers brightly.

"Hey B! How are you?" My voice is too high pitched to sound natural and I wince at the sound of it. Quinn cringes too, then gets up to give me some space. I watch her walk away, feeling guilty that I'm having such a hard time with this.

"_Umm, I'm okay. Are you okay? You sound…off."_

"No, I'm…I'm good, actually. I just, um…I have something I wanted to talk to you about."

"_Oh. Well fire away, I'm all ears."_

I breathe deeply and close my eyes.

"So…you know how we talked about me coming out here and chasing my dreams, maybe finding someone new?"

"_Yeah…"_ I have known this girl since I was 5 years old. I know her voice. And I know she's afraid of what I'm going to say next.

"Well, I've met someone, Britt. I'm…it's…it's pretty serious. I just didn't want you to hear from someone else or something."

I hear shallow breathing on the line, but Brittany hasn't said a word. I wait, uncertain of what I should say.

"_Who is she?"_

"What?" I heard her, but for some reason I stall, not ready yet to say what I really need to say.

"_Who is she? Where did you meet her?" _Brittany tumbles out questions in a quiet voice.

"Umm. It's uh…actually it's funny you should ask that…because it's kind of an unexpect-"

"_Santana. Who. Is. She."_

My heart breaks, because it's clear now. Brittany is upset, and it's about to be so much worse.

"It's Quinn, B. I'm in love with Quinn."

Absolute silence. Not even breathing.

"_I'm sorry, Quinn? As in…Quinn Fabray? As in…head cheerio, had a baby at 16, temporarily Artie-ed, our other BEST FRIEND, Quinn?"_

My voice shakes when I respond. "Yes. That Quinn."

"_You have to be kidding me, Santana. Quinn?! When…how?"_

"We got together about a month ago and things just…fell into place."

"_But…HOW? Quinn is less gay than I am. You can't honestly think she's going to last in a lesbian relationship, she cares way too much what people think. More than you even did before you came out. You __**know**__ this, Santana." _Brittany's voice is harsh as she chastises me and I feel a flash of anger burn up my guilt for a moment.

"Look, she's serious about us, Brittany. I know this is a lot to-"

"_Don't patronize me."_

"I'm not patronizing you, B. I'm just trying to be honest with you. You told me to get a real girlfriend and I did, but you're still my best friend!"

"_I didn't think you'd get with QUINN, Santana! I wanted you to be able to chase your dreams, not fall into bed with someone from Lima who wants to know if you're everything I always said you were. She's not a real girlfriend, she's just…Quinn."_

My mouth opens and closes in shock. Q peeks around the corner and catches my eye at that moment and I know she can see in my face that this is not going well.

"Britt…I love her," I finally say in a quiet voice.

"_Of course you do, Sanny. She's our friend. But that's all she is, that's all she can be. Honestly, I'm kind of pissed at her for messing with your head."_

"DAMN IT, Brittany! This isn't a game! We're together. It's real. She loves me, too. You need to accept this if we're going to be okay, and I love you too much to lose you. _Please_ just listen to me. Quinn and I are dating. We're in love."

The beat that follows feels heavy, like a moment weighed with the most important things we've ever said to one another.

"_You told me…you said you'd always love me the most, Santana. You said that."_

I feel tears well up in my eyes at the hurt in my best friend's voice. Quinn sits down next to me and takes my free hand, her eyes full of concern.

"I know, Britt. And I do love you. You are still my best friend."

Brittany scoffs in disbelief. _"Is she with you now?"_

I glance up at Q and consider lying. "Yes, she is."

"_Let me talk to her."_

Quinn is reading my expression, surely seeing the trepidation that has graced my features at Britt's quiet demand. I put the call on speaker and look at my girlfriend with a nervous, apologetic shrug. She immediately takes the hint.

"Hey Britt," she says lightly.

"_Quinn."_ Brittany responds, her tone clipped and short. _"I…I don't even know what to say to you. How…Jesus Christ, Quinn…how __**could **__you?"_

My eyes snap to my girlfriend's face and I open my mouth to jump in, but Quinn squeezes my hand and shakes her head.

"It's not something we planned, Britt. I'm just in love with her, I can't help it."

"_And what about me? Did you forget about your friend who has been in love with Santana for longer than you've even known her? Did you even consider what this would do to me?"_

Quinn closes her eyes and bites her lip for a second, then draws a shaky breath.

"Honestly, B? I did think about you. I had feelings for Santana for a long time and kept it to myself for you both. I wanted you to be happy. But you guys broke up and you moved on with Sam. You can't be mad at us for finding each other after that happened."

"_She's mine, Quinn. You know that in your heart. We're meant to be. You just can't compete with that."_

I turn the speakerphone off and snatch the phone up to my ear. My girlfriend looks devastated.

"Brittany, I love you, but you are way out of line. You can't decide to claim me a year after you told me to move on. Please don't do this, okay? I know this is hard but we're best friends. I need you."

"_Right now I don't think I can be your friend, San. I'm sorry, but this is just…this is crazy. I'm going to need a lot of time to process this and try to forgive Quinn for doing this."_

"You don't need to forgive Quinn for anything, this isn't her fault. _I_ fell in love with _her _first, a long time ago. I wrote "Cop Car" about her, Britt. Nothing happened until after you and I broke up, but she didn't start this, I did. So if one of us needs forgiving, it's me."

I can hear Brittany sniffling on the other end and I feel like dying.

"_Well then I need time to forgive you, Santana. I'm going to do my best, but…I don't know. This is worse than when we broke up, to be honest. I'll always love you. Bye, San."_

"Br-"

The line is cut off and I sit with the phone at my ear for a long moment before I accept that she really just hung up on me, that she doesn't want to talk to me. My arms feel heavy. I can hear my blood rushing in my ears. It's so loud.

Quinn brushes her thumbs over my wet cheeks and tilts my face up so she can look at me. I don't know what she sees, but she gently brings her lips to mine and then pulls me close, cradling my head against her chest. It feels like she's shaking, but then I realize with a start that her body is shaking from the force of my own sobbing.

I just lost my best friend.

* * *

December 2014

I'm lugging my tired body up the staircase to the loft, having spent the last hour working my ass off at the gym. There's this creepy ass bitch who keeps leering at me in the showers there, so I decided to just leave and shower at home. I put sweats on over my soaked gym clothes, but the trip home has still been exceedingly cold. All I want to do is get in a hot ass shower and relax, then maybe see if Quinn wants to come over since she finished her last final today.

As soon as I slide the loft door open, I know all of my plans for the night are dashed. Sitting on my couch, chatting with Hummelberry, is Brittany S. Pierce. She looks up at me immediately, and I feel the air leave my lungs.

"Hi San," she says softly, standing up as I walk in and slide the door closed.

"Hi Britt." I walk slowly into the room, uncertain as to what the hell is going on.

Brittany looks down at her hands and twists her fingers together before looking back up at me. She seems kind of nervous.

"I um…I miss you, Santana. And I miss Quinn, too. I decided to come down and tell you both face to face that I am so, _so_ glad that you are happy together. And that I'm sorry for being so upset when you first told me. So…can we be friends again?"

I walk over and stand right in front of her, our eyes trained on one another.

"No, Britt. We can't be friends 'again.' We're _best_ friends, and we never _stopped_ being best friends," I tell her earnestly.

The familiar squeal that precedes Brittany wrapping me in a bear hug actually warms my heart, and I squeeze her back with all I have in me.

"I missed you too, B. Thanks for forgiving me."

Brittany shakes her head at me. "I didn't need to forgive you, San. Quinn was right, it wasn't fair of me to be angry. I just…I was really lonely and homesick and we had finally started to get close again. I needed to let go and let you be happy, and I've finally done that."

We hug again for a long moment.

"So, can you call Quinn? I want to apologize to her, too. I need her to know that I support you guys." Brittany asks quietly.

I grin broadly and pull out my phone.

* * *

September 2016

I'm searching the internet for engagement ring ideas while Quinn is out shopping with Kurt. The selection is so incredibly overwhelming, and I keep unsuccessfully wracking my brain for any hint Quinn may have dropped about what type of ring she'd like. I groan in frustration just as my phone starts ringing with Brittany's ring tone.

"Hey Britt Britt. What's up?"

"_Hi Sanny! Nothing much, just wanted to check in and see how things are going."_

"Welllll, I'm actually looking for an engagement ring for Quinn right now. I'm going to ask her to marry me!"

"_Whoa. Seriously?"_

"Yeah, I'm going to ask Kurt to go ring shopping with me this weekend. I'm so excited, Britt. I mean, I'm nervous, but…I'm ready. And I think she is, too."

"_Wow. I didn't realize you were…um…that's great, San. Listen, I gotta run though."_

The change in Brittany's tone grabs my attention. Something is very, very off.

"Wait, Britt, what's wrong?"

"_Nothing! I just…forgot to, um…wash my hair. So I've got to do that. Now. I'll call you soon."_

"Britt-"

"_Bye, San."_

I stare at my phone for a minute after the line goes dead, in complete shock. It's been nearly two years since she came all the way to New York just to spend time with me and Quinn in hopes of repairing our damaged friendships. Since then, Brittany has visited us, stayed in our apartment with us, gone on vacation with us. She even Skyped with us when we were naked in bed once, although she didn't know it. Britt, of all people, knows how serious we are about our relationship. I can't believe she is reacting so badly to us possibly getting engaged.

"Babe, I'm home! I brought dinner back with me too."

I push Britt's weird reaction to the back of my mind instantly at the sound of Quinn's voice.

"Great, I'll be right out!" I quickly close the browser and delete the search history, then walk out to find my girlfriend taking to-go tins out of a paper bag. I wrap my arms around her waist and press against her back, then kiss her neck softly, smiling when she giggles and scrunches her shoulders up.

Quinn turns in my arms and crosses her wrists behind my neck, pulling me closer for an unhurried, sweet kiss.

"What have you been up to while I was out?" she asks before placing quick kisses along my jaw and nibbling gently at my earlobe.

I shiver slightly and grin, grabbing the back of Quinn's thighs and picking her up onto the counter in one smooth motion. I smirk up at her as I unbutton her shirt slowly, then answer her between the kisses I place along the newly exposed skin.

"I've been…thinking…about…touching…you."

"Oh yeah? Where?" Quinn's husky sex voice never fails to turn me on even more.

I lean up into a passionate kiss and whisper against her lips.

"_Everywhere_."

* * *

I finally find the courage to hit the call button, then hold my breath as the phone rings. Part of me prays she doesn't answer, because I'm too ashamed to even talk to her.

"_Santana."_

"Hi, Britt."

"_I know why you're calling."_

I feel like throwing up.

"I'm sorry, B. I really am. It was an asshole thing to do."

"_Yeah."_

"I thought…I mean, it seemed like you weren't too happy about it, so I didn't know what to tell you."

I hear a deep sigh on the other end.

"_Look San, I know I was weird when you said you were going to ask Quinn. But I just needed a minute, that's all. Then you don't ever mention it again and bam! I get an invitation to your wedding. We're supposed to be best friends and you didn't even tell me you got engaged. Worse, you just send me an invite, like I'm just another person in your life. I don't want to sound rude, but if two of my best friends are getting married, I kind of figured I'd be in the wedding party."_

"I want you to be! You're my best friend, I want you to be next to me when Quinn and I get married. I just…I don't want to hurt you, Britt. I feel like no matter what I do, I'm hurting you."

"_We're not in high school anymore, Santana. You can't keep trying to shield me from everything that hurts. It took me a long time to realize that really loving you meant letting you be happy, even if someone else gets to have you. I want to come to your wedding, Sanny. I only replied no because I knew it would force you to talk to me."_

I sigh as my eyes fill with tears. I've been such a moron about this.

"So you'll come?"

"_Of course."_

"And you'll be my Best Lady?"

"_You better believe it."_

"I love you Britt, thank you. And I'm so sorry, again."

"_You're forgiven, and I love you too." _I can hear the smile back in Britt's voice and it relieves some of the weight that's crushing down on me until I remember Quinn.

"Quinn is pretty upset with me about this, B. I really screwed up."

"_So go fix it, dope. And tell her I said congratulations. She's going to be a beautiful bride."_

"Yeah, she is. I'll call you soon. We need to go dress shopping. Maybe I can come to LA."

"_Let me know. I can't wait. Bye San."_

"Bye, Britt Britt."

* * *

Quinn walks into our apartment well over an hour after I sent her a text asking her to come home. She looks at me warily, as if she's afraid that once one of us speaks the fight will begin. I decide that I need to just dive into it, so I immediately begin apologizing.

"I am sorry, Quinn. What I did was…childish and immature, and unfair to both you and Brittany. I was an idiot."

A slight shrug is all I get in response. Q is angled slightly away from me, her eyes on her forefinger tracing patterns on the countertop.

"Brittany told me to tell you congratulations, by the way. She's coming to the wedding, and she agreed to be my Best Lady."

This revelation finally earns me some eye contact, hazel eyes meeting mine, but Quinn remains silent.

"She also said you're going to make a beautiful bride, a sentiment that I couldn't agree with more," I offer quietly into the pronounced silence between us. I wait, hoping she'll speak, but once again receive no response. I slowly walk to the other side of the island countertop she's leaning on. "Quinn, talk to me, please."

My fiancée sighs deeply. "I appreciate your apology, Santana, I do. And I love you. I'm just still kind of pissed, but I _am_ glad you worked things out with Brittany. Thank you for doing that."

I bite my lip so hard it hurts, unsure of what to say.

"What can I do, babe? How can I make this better? I've already apologized." I ask, my palms to the sky. My frustration colors my voice, and I know before I finish speaking that I've just poked a bear, but I'm surprised when Quinn doesn't snap at me. Instead she sighs and responds in a soft, resigned voice that makes my heart ache.

"You don't get to be annoyed with me, San. _You_ put Brittany before me. You'd be hurt too, if you were me."

I run my hand through my hair and look down. "You're right. I'm-"

"Sorry. Yeah, I know."

Quinn's arms are folded protectively over her chest and she looks pointedly away from me. I _know_ this woman, this is about more than me not telling Britt we were engaged. I walk around the island and gently put a hand on her arm. "Honey I can't fix this if you won't tell me what's really hurting you. Please talk to me."

My chest constricts when her full lower lip quivers and she draws in shaky breath as she brings her eyes to mine. "I know it's stupid, but...I can't stop thinking that maybe you still…you're still in…"

She can't finish her sentence, but I put the pieces together quickly, my eyes widening as I realize what she's thinking.

_You're still in love with Brittany._

"Quinn, NO. Listen to me, baby, please. I'm in love with you_._ _Only _you. Okay? I told you, I'm always going to love Brittany, she's my best friend. But you are _it_ for me, Quinn Fabray, the only one I want. You know that right?" I'm relieved when she starts nodding. I can't believe I've made her doubt that she's the one I want.

I cup her beautiful face in my hands and bring my mouth to hers to give her the softest kiss imaginable. I need her to feel my love, I need her to know for certain that she's my everything. After a moment she kisses me back, her lips move tentatively at first but quickly become more insistent. I begin to lean back, but Quinn follows me to keep her mouth on mine, her hands sliding up my back to hold me in place. I smile into her lips as I press myself firmly against her body. I love Quinn's bossy kisses.

She finally breaks the kiss and leans her forehead against mine. "I love you, Santana," she says simply.

"I love you too, Q. Forever and ever." I sneak a quick peck to her lips to punctuate my point.

A million dollar smile spreads across her perfect face as she reaches down to grab the hem of my shirt and pull it off of me in one smooth motion. Her mouth immediately moves to the top of my breast, pushed up by my silky black bra. She nips my skin gently, then sucks down hard, drawing a shocked gasp from my mouth. Quinn straightens up and smirks at me before moving her lips to my neck, where she licks and kisses my skin before again sucking down hard. I pull back this time and look at her incredulously.

"Seriously? Hickeys? What are we, 14 years old?"

Q tosses her head back and laughs at my exasperation, a grin on her face when she says, "Just marking what's mine, that's all."

I reach out quickly and grab the top of her jeans, pulling her closer to me. I fiddle with the button and slowly slide down her zipper as I look into her eyes.

"Is that so? Well in that case…" I hook a finger in the top of her underwear and run it back and forth along her skin, smiling lightly at the change in her breathing. "I guess I better pee on your leg to make sure everyone knows you're _mine_."

Quinn laughs as she pushes me away from her, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "You're so gross, Santana."

I grin broadly and shrug. "Maybe so, but it _would_ be an effective way to keep anyone else from ever touching you again."

"Would it keep you from touching me again, too?" I know that tone all too well. My fiancée is kicking off her shoes and pulling her shirt off as she walks slowly towards the bedroom. I follow behind, undoing my jeans as I walk.

"Literally nothing in this world could stop me from touching you, Q. Touching you is my favorite thing in the whole world, kind of a major weakness of mine, actually." I round the corner into our room and find Quinn facing me, sliding her pants down her legs. Our closet doors behind her are full length mirrors, and I watch her ass in the reflection as she bends over.

I can _hear_ the smirk in her sexy voice when she climbs onto our bed and turns to look at me.

"Prove it."


End file.

Glee, Friendship, Romance