fic: used to be alright (what happened) for smash_leigh
Title: used to be alright (what happened) for smash_leigh
Pairing: Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez (friendship)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,914
Spoilers: up to Purple Piano Project
Summary: No matter what, they can never cut the cord completely.
Santana is exactly the kind of girl her parents warned her about; sharp tongued, foul mouthed and loose in ways Quinn doesn't even want to know. But it's okay because (according to Santana) Quinn's too much of a prude for her liking anyway.
They don't have much in common apart from their love of old records and the mutual loathing of Rachel Berry, but somehow they make it work.
--
When Santana invites her to the Lopez residence, it's nothing like Quinn expects (nothing like how Santana acts at school). She must admit that the whole Lima Heights Adjacent thing is a brilliant front considering she doesn't actually live in a ghetto area at all; it's the very upscale Lima Crown Parks neighborhood. Home to the kind of people her parents would kill to associate with.
Quinn lets her eyes drift over the cool granite marble counters, stainless steel kitchen appliances and stark white walls. She's heard Santana talk about her parents before, but it's not until then that she realizes that no matter how cold her house seemed, Santana's was sub-zero. It would never be as warm. She thinks of her overbearing parents and their homely American furnishings made of rich red wood; the furnace of a fireplace in the den; the white picket fence outside. She thinks of her sister Caroline and how she never felt alone as long as her big sister was there.
Santana is an only child.
The only pictures on display out front are professionally done family portraits with barely-there smiles that remind Quinn of the ones you see in old creepy mansions. There are no vacation pictures, no embarrassing church camp photos. Instead the spaces are filled with multiple certificates plus graduation photos, and expensive looking pieces of modern art that Santana likes to call "Bougie-ass shit."
There's also a covered up piano sitting in the corner of the living room that Santana plays from time to time- she used to take lessons when she was little- as entertainment. Santana explains that she subconsciously feels the need to keep her nails short even though she's past taking lessons (there are four nail files on hand in her locker at school). She also explains that it was a dream.
"I wanted to be the next Alicia Keys." Santana blurts out, embarrassed. Her fingers press half heartedly against the keys to the tune of 'Fallin''
Quinn quiets and stares at her lap before her eyes nervously flit up to Santana's face. "What's stopping you?" she asks. At Santana's silence she ventures on, "I've heard you sing sometimes in the showers at practice..." she visibly flushes. "You're really really good."
"Guess I grew up."
"So what are your plans now?"
"I just- I just wanna get away you know?" Quinn nods. She gets it. "Get as far away from this hellhole as possible."
--
They spend the rest of the night painting each other's nails and dreaming up life outside of Lima.
--
The fight for head Cheerio puts a tangible strain on their friendship. It's obvious that they're the only real competition either of them will ever have at McKinley and Sue uses this to her advantage. Cheerio practice is pushed to the max.
"It's only a little friendly competition." Quinn insists sweetly.
Santana knows well enough though. Soon it spills into everything else- academics, popularity, boys- until neither of them can discern if what they say to each other is genuine anymore. Brittany (who is sweeter than either of them think they deserve) is smart to stay out of it.
--
"Hey Q, I was just looking for you." Santana smiles.
Quinn looks up from her locker and raises a questioning eyebrow. Her default line of thinking is now "Santana has to be up to something." (especially if she's smiling like that).
"I was thinking we should double date this weekend." Quinn tenses. "You, me, Jolly Green Giant and Puck- it'll be fun."
"Uh sure? I guess."
"Fantastic. See you at BreadstiX at eight."
Quinn waits until Santana's round the corner before she releases the breath she's been holding.
--
Noah Puckerman is a delicate topic- not for Santana of course- but for Quinn. She's prayed about it ( a lot) but she just can't help herself when Santana starts waxing poetic about how hot their hook up sessions are. She wonders what it's like to have his experienced hands on her body, how it feels to have his solid muscles against her softer ones. He's so different from Finn and she can't stop thinking about it. It's maddening; to the point that when she's making out with Finn, she imagines Puck's pouty lips on hers instead of his.
What makes it worse is that she knows he wonders about her too. The way his eyes linger warmly on her whenever he stops to hail Finn in the hallways never fails to get her worked up. She has to let out the frustration on Finn and Cheerios.
What makes it absolutely terrible is that Santana knows it too.
--
"Puck and I broke up." Santana announces, pulling up a chair beside Quinn.
"What?" Quinn nearly chokes on her water. Is this about- Puck didn't tell her did he?
Santana rolls her eyes disgustedly, poking at the salad in her tray. "He's a total Lima loser." she lowers her voice "I mean, he's good for street cred and everything but he clearly can't take care of all this." she says, gesturing to herself with the fork. "I needs to be kept."
Quinn just nods her head in agreement to everything Santana says, trying to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt building in her stomach. She loves Finn; who smiles at her like he could be her forever- but then there's Puck. Puck who showers her with compliments about how smoking hot she is and how she should loosen up a bit. How she should be just her. Not Head Bitch.
Puck who she like- but really shouldn't- liked.
Puck who she let take her virginity.
--
When the pregnancy drama breaks loose, Quinn feels rightfully exiled. There's no honor in sleeping with your bestie's boyfriend let alone being president of the Celibacy Club and knocked-up. Even the people she thought would be there for her through thick and thin -her own parents- even they can't stand the sight of her.
In an ironic turn of events, Santana's parents don't want Quinn staying in their house because she's a "bad influence". Quinn almost feels like laughing at the fact that her legs-wide-open, never-say-no friends manage to escape unscathed when she got pregnant on her first try.
At the same time she's kind of thankful that Santana doesn't completely burn the bridge, even though she hasn't completely forgiven her either.
--
"I need you to level with me here Fabray."
Quinn looks up from the July issue of Cosmo to see Santana in front of the mirror, hands cupping her own breasts.
"Do you think I should go up a cup size? My tits are kind of small."
Again, Quinn doesn't know what to say at first. She definitely doesn't want to ask if this sudden desire to go all Pamela Anderson is Brittany and or Puck related. She bites back the urge to blurt out "You're perfect." and instead draws on something she told herself pre- nose job, pre- weight loss.
"If you really don't like what you see and you can do something about it," she shrugs "change it."
Less than a month later, Quinn's sitting on the side of Santana's bed giving her pain medication during her recovery since Brittany's off gallivanting in the Catacombs somewhere in Europe.
"This was a crazy idea." Quinn sighs. Santana just laughs.
"Are you kidding me? They'll look great on Fox Sports Net when I win Nationals."
--
Santana doesn't expect Quinn to use that private information to get the Head Cheerio position back. She feels like kicking the living crap out of Quinn for ruining her chances at a second Nationals title as captain. And she's this close to ending what's left of their friendship but she just can't bring herself to cut the cord.
--
Slowly but surely Quinn gets back into the groove of things as much as she can. Santana and Brittany let her hang out with them again but the whole vibe is different. Sometimes it feels like old times (like when they're making fun of Rachel Berry), but most of the time it just feels like she's tagging alongside a double reinforced bulletproof Brittany-Santana bubble. They're so tangled up in each other that Quinn wonders if they know how it looks. Because from where she's sitting, it looks pretty damn gay.
"We're just best friends, Q. That's all." Santana insists slamming her locker, but Quinn doesn't completely buy it.
She sees it when Brittany is saying grace over dinner at the Pierce's when she peels an eye open to find Santana staring at Brittany with a look she can't really place. Sometimes deep down Quinn finds herself wondering if Finn or Sam ever looked at her the same way, or if anyone will ever look at her that way.
--
Fast-forward to the beginning of senior year and they've both changed. They crossed paths briefly over the summer but that was about it. Quinn dated a 39 year old professional skateboarder named Dirk, got an ironic Ryan Seacrest tattoo, bright pink hair and some new friends to go along with it all. (Looking at it now, she's turned into the kind of person the old Quinn would make fun of right to their face.) Santana's gotten noticeably more calm and reserved since they last saw each other and Quinn thinks she knows why.
It hits her that this is their last year and suddenly it feels like everything they talked about achieving is slipping away.
--
Santana finds Quinn chilling in the "Skank Lair", but sans skanks this time. There's smoke curling around Quinn's mops of troll doll pink hair so Santana fiddles around in her bag for one of her dad's cigars to go join her. Cautiously she ambles over and pops a squat on the cold concrete next to her on and (never really) off again friend.
"You know at first I though I'd love this version of you," Santana admits, shaking her head "but I really miss Prude-y the Ice Queen right about now."
Quinn doesn't respond, only takes a drag from the cigarette she has posed between two fingers like a pro. Santana continues.
"And to think I used to be jealous of you." she laughs darkly, "Now I only feel sor-"
"What do you want Santana?" Quinn sighs in defeat. She lifts up her Aviator's to look Santana in the eyes. Santana holds her gaze and simply states "Your help."
"You see on behalf of Sue Sylvester, the Cheerios are going to do some damage to one of those purple pianos today in the courtyard and I figured since you hate Glee Club now, you'd want in. A little sabotage, just like old times?"
Quinn's lips quirk up into the closest thing to a genuine smile Santana's seen on her face in a while before she says,
"I'm in."
Pairing: Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez (friendship)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,914
Spoilers: up to Purple Piano Project
Summary: No matter what, they can never cut the cord completely.
Santana is exactly the kind of girl her parents warned her about; sharp tongued, foul mouthed and loose in ways Quinn doesn't even want to know. But it's okay because (according to Santana) Quinn's too much of a prude for her liking anyway.
They don't have much in common apart from their love of old records and the mutual loathing of Rachel Berry, but somehow they make it work.
--
When Santana invites her to the Lopez residence, it's nothing like Quinn expects (nothing like how Santana acts at school). She must admit that the whole Lima Heights Adjacent thing is a brilliant front considering she doesn't actually live in a ghetto area at all; it's the very upscale Lima Crown Parks neighborhood. Home to the kind of people her parents would kill to associate with.
Quinn lets her eyes drift over the cool granite marble counters, stainless steel kitchen appliances and stark white walls. She's heard Santana talk about her parents before, but it's not until then that she realizes that no matter how cold her house seemed, Santana's was sub-zero. It would never be as warm. She thinks of her overbearing parents and their homely American furnishings made of rich red wood; the furnace of a fireplace in the den; the white picket fence outside. She thinks of her sister Caroline and how she never felt alone as long as her big sister was there.
Santana is an only child.
The only pictures on display out front are professionally done family portraits with barely-there smiles that remind Quinn of the ones you see in old creepy mansions. There are no vacation pictures, no embarrassing church camp photos. Instead the spaces are filled with multiple certificates plus graduation photos, and expensive looking pieces of modern art that Santana likes to call "Bougie-ass shit."
There's also a covered up piano sitting in the corner of the living room that Santana plays from time to time- she used to take lessons when she was little- as entertainment. Santana explains that she subconsciously feels the need to keep her nails short even though she's past taking lessons (there are four nail files on hand in her locker at school). She also explains that it was a dream.
"I wanted to be the next Alicia Keys." Santana blurts out, embarrassed. Her fingers press half heartedly against the keys to the tune of 'Fallin''
Quinn quiets and stares at her lap before her eyes nervously flit up to Santana's face. "What's stopping you?" she asks. At Santana's silence she ventures on, "I've heard you sing sometimes in the showers at practice..." she visibly flushes. "You're really really good."
"Guess I grew up."
"So what are your plans now?"
"I just- I just wanna get away you know?" Quinn nods. She gets it. "Get as far away from this hellhole as possible."
--
They spend the rest of the night painting each other's nails and dreaming up life outside of Lima.
--
The fight for head Cheerio puts a tangible strain on their friendship. It's obvious that they're the only real competition either of them will ever have at McKinley and Sue uses this to her advantage. Cheerio practice is pushed to the max.
"It's only a little friendly competition." Quinn insists sweetly.
Santana knows well enough though. Soon it spills into everything else- academics, popularity, boys- until neither of them can discern if what they say to each other is genuine anymore. Brittany (who is sweeter than either of them think they deserve) is smart to stay out of it.
--
"Hey Q, I was just looking for you." Santana smiles.
Quinn looks up from her locker and raises a questioning eyebrow. Her default line of thinking is now "Santana has to be up to something." (especially if she's smiling like that).
"I was thinking we should double date this weekend." Quinn tenses. "You, me, Jolly Green Giant and Puck- it'll be fun."
"Uh sure? I guess."
"Fantastic. See you at BreadstiX at eight."
Quinn waits until Santana's round the corner before she releases the breath she's been holding.
--
Noah Puckerman is a delicate topic- not for Santana of course- but for Quinn. She's prayed about it ( a lot) but she just can't help herself when Santana starts waxing poetic about how hot their hook up sessions are. She wonders what it's like to have his experienced hands on her body, how it feels to have his solid muscles against her softer ones. He's so different from Finn and she can't stop thinking about it. It's maddening; to the point that when she's making out with Finn, she imagines Puck's pouty lips on hers instead of his.
What makes it worse is that she knows he wonders about her too. The way his eyes linger warmly on her whenever he stops to hail Finn in the hallways never fails to get her worked up. She has to let out the frustration on Finn and Cheerios.
What makes it absolutely terrible is that Santana knows it too.
--
"Puck and I broke up." Santana announces, pulling up a chair beside Quinn.
"What?" Quinn nearly chokes on her water. Is this about- Puck didn't tell her did he?
Santana rolls her eyes disgustedly, poking at the salad in her tray. "He's a total Lima loser." she lowers her voice "I mean, he's good for street cred and everything but he clearly can't take care of all this." she says, gesturing to herself with the fork. "I needs to be kept."
Quinn just nods her head in agreement to everything Santana says, trying to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt building in her stomach. She loves Finn; who smiles at her like he could be her forever- but then there's Puck. Puck who showers her with compliments about how smoking hot she is and how she should loosen up a bit. How she should be just her. Not Head Bitch.
Puck who she like- but really shouldn't- liked.
Puck who she let take her virginity.
--
When the pregnancy drama breaks loose, Quinn feels rightfully exiled. There's no honor in sleeping with your bestie's boyfriend let alone being president of the Celibacy Club and knocked-up. Even the people she thought would be there for her through thick and thin -her own parents- even they can't stand the sight of her.
In an ironic turn of events, Santana's parents don't want Quinn staying in their house because she's a "bad influence". Quinn almost feels like laughing at the fact that her legs-wide-open, never-say-no friends manage to escape unscathed when she got pregnant on her first try.
At the same time she's kind of thankful that Santana doesn't completely burn the bridge, even though she hasn't completely forgiven her either.
--
"I need you to level with me here Fabray."
Quinn looks up from the July issue of Cosmo to see Santana in front of the mirror, hands cupping her own breasts.
"Do you think I should go up a cup size? My tits are kind of small."
Again, Quinn doesn't know what to say at first. She definitely doesn't want to ask if this sudden desire to go all Pamela Anderson is Brittany and or Puck related. She bites back the urge to blurt out "You're perfect." and instead draws on something she told herself pre- nose job, pre- weight loss.
"If you really don't like what you see and you can do something about it," she shrugs "change it."
Less than a month later, Quinn's sitting on the side of Santana's bed giving her pain medication during her recovery since Brittany's off gallivanting in the Catacombs somewhere in Europe.
"This was a crazy idea." Quinn sighs. Santana just laughs.
"Are you kidding me? They'll look great on Fox Sports Net when I win Nationals."
--
Santana doesn't expect Quinn to use that private information to get the Head Cheerio position back. She feels like kicking the living crap out of Quinn for ruining her chances at a second Nationals title as captain. And she's this close to ending what's left of their friendship but she just can't bring herself to cut the cord.
--
Slowly but surely Quinn gets back into the groove of things as much as she can. Santana and Brittany let her hang out with them again but the whole vibe is different. Sometimes it feels like old times (like when they're making fun of Rachel Berry), but most of the time it just feels like she's tagging alongside a double reinforced bulletproof Brittany-Santana bubble. They're so tangled up in each other that Quinn wonders if they know how it looks. Because from where she's sitting, it looks pretty damn gay.
"We're just best friends, Q. That's all." Santana insists slamming her locker, but Quinn doesn't completely buy it.
She sees it when Brittany is saying grace over dinner at the Pierce's when she peels an eye open to find Santana staring at Brittany with a look she can't really place. Sometimes deep down Quinn finds herself wondering if Finn or Sam ever looked at her the same way, or if anyone will ever look at her that way.
--
Fast-forward to the beginning of senior year and they've both changed. They crossed paths briefly over the summer but that was about it. Quinn dated a 39 year old professional skateboarder named Dirk, got an ironic Ryan Seacrest tattoo, bright pink hair and some new friends to go along with it all. (Looking at it now, she's turned into the kind of person the old Quinn would make fun of right to their face.) Santana's gotten noticeably more calm and reserved since they last saw each other and Quinn thinks she knows why.
It hits her that this is their last year and suddenly it feels like everything they talked about achieving is slipping away.
--
Santana finds Quinn chilling in the "Skank Lair", but sans skanks this time. There's smoke curling around Quinn's mops of troll doll pink hair so Santana fiddles around in her bag for one of her dad's cigars to go join her. Cautiously she ambles over and pops a squat on the cold concrete next to her on and (never really) off again friend.
"You know at first I though I'd love this version of you," Santana admits, shaking her head "but I really miss Prude-y the Ice Queen right about now."
Quinn doesn't respond, only takes a drag from the cigarette she has posed between two fingers like a pro. Santana continues.
"And to think I used to be jealous of you." she laughs darkly, "Now I only feel sor-"
"What do you want Santana?" Quinn sighs in defeat. She lifts up her Aviator's to look Santana in the eyes. Santana holds her gaze and simply states "Your help."
"You see on behalf of Sue Sylvester, the Cheerios are going to do some damage to one of those purple pianos today in the courtyard and I figured since you hate Glee Club now, you'd want in. A little sabotage, just like old times?"
Quinn's lips quirk up into the closest thing to a genuine smile Santana's seen on her face in a while before she says,
"I'm in."