Fic: I'm all for believing
Title: I’m all for believing
Author: fullyajar
Pairings: Quinn/Santana, Brittany/Santana
Spoilers: Season 2 Glee.
Summary: Quinn wonders about how Santana and her’s friendship could have gone in another life.
Rating: PG. Ambiguous fluff.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot to this story.
Word count: ~ 2,000
A/N: Based on a dream in which I was Quinn and Santana was Shay Mitchel as a mermaid. Yeah, I have fucking awesome dreams.
“You know what?” Quinn asks absentmindedly, twirling a lock of Santana’s hair through her fingers.
“What?” Santana asks, flipping another page in her magazine.
“Sometimes I think it’s too bad we were friends before we both came out to each other.”
Santana stops flipping through the magazine, her hand frozen halfway through the movement. She turns to Quinn, and shrugs her shoulder to nudge against her. “Why?”
“I don’t know, I just wonder.” Quinn shifts away from Santana, and lies back on the grass. The sun peaks out behind the clouds and she smiles, soaking up the day - the last day she and Santana will have together before they both leave for college. It’s bizarre, to say the least. Their friendship has never been the smoothest. The backstabbing, the lying, the blackmailing… Neither thought they’d ever get over it and be friends again. But a day before Santana came out officially to Glee club, Quinn was on her doorstep, cold, lonely, and with an apology on her lips. High school didn’t work out the way she thought it would, and when all was said and done, it’s wasn’t Rachel she ran to with her confession (how could she ever?), but Santana.
Santana had held her quietly as Quinn poured her heart out, and when she was done, she had given her a strong dose of reality and perspective seeped in tough love - just as Quinn had hoped she would. Bi, not gay - if you need to, you can hide it all your life. No need to come out unless you want to - and on your own terms. Stay the fuck away from Finn. Stop freaking out, Fabray. And tell Rachel before she leaves.
The last piece of advice hadn’t exactly gone as she meant it. She’d chickened out when Rachel had sung her song for Finn, and again she’d ended up on Santana’s doorstep, who had, for the first time in her life, kicked Brittany out of her bed to make way for Quinn, and had held her through the night.
“What do you wonder?” Santana asks, curiosity lighting up her voice.
“About us, you know?” Quinn looks down at her hands, pulling at her cuticles. The sun had jumped lightheartedly behind a cloud, teasing them with half-hearted rays of light between the wisps of condensed water.
Santana smiles playfully. “I don’t know. Tell me.”
Quinn lets out a resigned sigh. “It was always you and Brittany and I. The Unholy Trinity.” Santana smiles with the memories that play across her mind. A path clearing through the McKinley High hallways as the three of them, arms linked, walked confidently through the school. The boys lying at their feet, begging for a scrap of attention. The power she felt - and the love. Despite the difficulties, they were friends back then. It was always the three of them.
“It still is, Quinn,” she reminds her.
“No, I know. But… it was you and me first. Brittany came later, in 8th grade, and before you guys, or all three of us, were even friends, you were in love with her.”
Santana nods, remembering the way her heart had bounced in her throat the first time, and all the next times, Brittany had hooked her pinky, and the way she had stayed awake at sleepovers just to be able to crawl close to Brittany and feel the sleeping blonde’s breath on her lips, wishing for something she could barely put into words.
“I just wonder… If it had been you and her, already friends, and I came along… if I had been in her place… if things would have worked out differently.”
Santana raises her eyebrows, and puts down her magazine. “What? You mean if you and I would have…?”
Quinn picks shyly at a piece of grass, and doesn’t answer. Santana’s eyes go wide. Her voice is tremulous and loaded with questions when she asks uncertainly, “Quinn…”
Quinn frowns and sits up on her elbow. “No, come on, don’t get all dramatic on me,” she jokes and nudges Santana’s shoulder. “I’m not saying anything. I just think we could have had something pretty special too. Like you and Brittany have now.”
Santana’s worried frown smoothes over, and she smiles carefully, turning her face to the sun to soak up the rays and give her confidence. “Maybe…”
Quinn huffs. “Not ‘maybe’,” she whines, warping Santana’s nonchalant words. “Definitely. We would have been awesome together.”
“When we didn’t feel like ripping each other’s throats out, maybe,” Santana jokes.
Quinn shrugs. “That’s part of it, isn’t it?”
Santana smiles. “Yeah, it is.”
They fall into silence again, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company. Quinn’s mind is wrapped in fantasies, wondering about things she never thought she’d wonder. She remembers Santana’s soothing lullabies the nights she needed her most, and the warmth of her arms around her body, but remembers them with the warm swell of happiness that comes with friendship, not love. At least, mostly. She looks at Santana again, basking in the sun with her eyes and a contented smile on her face, and smiles, letting a twinge of a different kind of love creep into her heart.
“You look really beautiful like that, you know,” she flirts playfully.
“Jeez, Fabray, keep it in your pants,” Santana jokes back, and Quinn pushes on Santana’s arm so that the brunette destabilizes and falls to the grass with a surprised ‘Oof’. They’re lying next to each other now, Quinn propped up on her side with her head resting on her hand, and Santana on her back with her hair sprawled across the grass. Quinn can see the tiny laugh lines next to Santana’s eyes, and the way she licks her sundried lips absentmindedly.
“I have to go soon, you know,” the brunette murmurs regretfully, holding Quinn’s gaze.
“Yeah, I know,” Quinn answers simply. Of course she knows. Quinn’s not the last person Santana will say goodbye to. That’s Brittany. She knows. She gets it. She doesn’t mind. Rachel will be her last, even if the goodbye will no doubt go somewhat different than her hopes.
“I’m going to miss you, Q,” Santana says softly, and the laugh lines disappear.
“Come on, we’ll see each other again soon.” Quinn forces her own laugh lines, hoping they will infect Santana, but they don’t. A knot forms in her throat.
“It won’t be the same.”
“Things can never stay the same.”
“I wish they would.”
“Are you happy now then?” Quinn asks, curiously.
“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, Q, you know that,” Santana replies lightly, reaching forward to rest her hand over Quinn’s. Quinn holds it, tightly.
“I’ll miss you too,” she pauses, “and all the moments we could have had.”
Santana frowns, bemused. “What do you mean?”
“If we hadn’t been bitching at each other, if we hadn’t tearing each other’s hair out, if we would have just come out earlier…” a pause. She looks away, and then finishes so softly, she’s not sure Santana even hears her, “if we wouldn’t have been friends before we did.”
Santana is still, and Quinn can barely hear her breathe as her words sink in. Her heart is beating in her throat, but she pushes it down.
“Hey,” Santana whispers, and before Quinn even has the chance to look up, Santana has presses her lips to hers and Quinn is flying. Flying back through memories as though they’re nothing more than fragile pages of an open book in the wind, and she has the chance to rewrite it. Rewrite every line, starting with the one where they met - fast-forward to Brittany and pick up the eraser. Every moment of them - the wind carries the rubbings away as Quinn draws herself in Brittany’s place. Santana against her, leaning close at a sleepover of just them, turning her body inside out and touching her so tenderly - her first, not Puck. No baby, no Beth, no Shelby, no hair dye, no crash… Half her life, erased with the simple act of loving Santana. The Unholy Trinity, gone. No more fights, no vicious words, no outing campaign videos, no Rachel or heartbreaks. Quinn sighs into the kiss, and when Santana pulls away, she doesn’t let her, and holds the kiss for just a moment longer, just a moment, to write the last page. A goodbye. Not just to each other, but to the book and the chance to read this new version. A chance she knows she’ll never have.
Santana finally does pull away, and her eyes are full of concern. She hadn’t meant this. It was supposed to be a light kiss, a comfort for Quinn when she seemed so unusually confused and fragile. A goodbye. Friends. Nothing more.
Quinn nods reassuringly, and her smile is genuine.
“Quinn,” Santana starts carefully, picking her words uncertainly in her mind before letting them onto her lips - as she should have done before she let Quinn onto them. Quinn stops her, and her smile stretches wider. She knows she can’t hide the twinge of sadness in her eyes, but she doesn’t mind. They’re friends, and Santana will get it, eventually.
“It’s okay. I just wanted to see what it could have been like.”
“But…”
“I’m happy too, Santana,” she assures her. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And you’re part of the reason why.”
Santana is silent, her throat closed up and her frown creasing her forhead with different lines than the ones her smile draws into her face usually. Quinn smiles tenderly and runs her hand over Santana’s face. “No frowning. It’ll give you wrinkles.”
Santana only frowns deeper, but her lips break into an uncertain smile. “You are such a mystery, sometimes.”
Quinn smiles. “If I have anything to say about it, you’ll have plenty more moments to figure me out.”
Santana smiles back, and they hold each other’s gaze. The regret has disappeared from Quinn’s eyes, and the concern from Santana’s. It’s as it was again. Friends.
Santana sits up, brushes herself off, and leans to press a quick kiss to Quinn’s lips. Quinn is surprised at Santana’s confidence, considering what just happens, but it’s the kind of kiss Santana intended: quick, sweet, light. Quinn smiles up at her when she stands up.
“I’ll see you around, Q,” she says lightly, and then she’s gone.
Quinn rolls on her back as the sun comes out again, and thinks of the future instead of her past, believing for the first time that everything will work out.
Author: fullyajar
Pairings: Quinn/Santana, Brittany/Santana
Spoilers: Season 2 Glee.
Summary: Quinn wonders about how Santana and her’s friendship could have gone in another life.
Rating: PG. Ambiguous fluff.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot to this story.
Word count: ~ 2,000
A/N: Based on a dream in which I was Quinn and Santana was Shay Mitchel as a mermaid. Yeah, I have fucking awesome dreams.
“You know what?” Quinn asks absentmindedly, twirling a lock of Santana’s hair through her fingers.
“What?” Santana asks, flipping another page in her magazine.
“Sometimes I think it’s too bad we were friends before we both came out to each other.”
Santana stops flipping through the magazine, her hand frozen halfway through the movement. She turns to Quinn, and shrugs her shoulder to nudge against her. “Why?”
“I don’t know, I just wonder.” Quinn shifts away from Santana, and lies back on the grass. The sun peaks out behind the clouds and she smiles, soaking up the day - the last day she and Santana will have together before they both leave for college. It’s bizarre, to say the least. Their friendship has never been the smoothest. The backstabbing, the lying, the blackmailing… Neither thought they’d ever get over it and be friends again. But a day before Santana came out officially to Glee club, Quinn was on her doorstep, cold, lonely, and with an apology on her lips. High school didn’t work out the way she thought it would, and when all was said and done, it’s wasn’t Rachel she ran to with her confession (how could she ever?), but Santana.
Santana had held her quietly as Quinn poured her heart out, and when she was done, she had given her a strong dose of reality and perspective seeped in tough love - just as Quinn had hoped she would. Bi, not gay - if you need to, you can hide it all your life. No need to come out unless you want to - and on your own terms. Stay the fuck away from Finn. Stop freaking out, Fabray. And tell Rachel before she leaves.
The last piece of advice hadn’t exactly gone as she meant it. She’d chickened out when Rachel had sung her song for Finn, and again she’d ended up on Santana’s doorstep, who had, for the first time in her life, kicked Brittany out of her bed to make way for Quinn, and had held her through the night.
“What do you wonder?” Santana asks, curiosity lighting up her voice.
“About us, you know?” Quinn looks down at her hands, pulling at her cuticles. The sun had jumped lightheartedly behind a cloud, teasing them with half-hearted rays of light between the wisps of condensed water.
Santana smiles playfully. “I don’t know. Tell me.”
Quinn lets out a resigned sigh. “It was always you and Brittany and I. The Unholy Trinity.” Santana smiles with the memories that play across her mind. A path clearing through the McKinley High hallways as the three of them, arms linked, walked confidently through the school. The boys lying at their feet, begging for a scrap of attention. The power she felt - and the love. Despite the difficulties, they were friends back then. It was always the three of them.
“It still is, Quinn,” she reminds her.
“No, I know. But… it was you and me first. Brittany came later, in 8th grade, and before you guys, or all three of us, were even friends, you were in love with her.”
Santana nods, remembering the way her heart had bounced in her throat the first time, and all the next times, Brittany had hooked her pinky, and the way she had stayed awake at sleepovers just to be able to crawl close to Brittany and feel the sleeping blonde’s breath on her lips, wishing for something she could barely put into words.
“I just wonder… If it had been you and her, already friends, and I came along… if I had been in her place… if things would have worked out differently.”
Santana raises her eyebrows, and puts down her magazine. “What? You mean if you and I would have…?”
Quinn picks shyly at a piece of grass, and doesn’t answer. Santana’s eyes go wide. Her voice is tremulous and loaded with questions when she asks uncertainly, “Quinn…”
Quinn frowns and sits up on her elbow. “No, come on, don’t get all dramatic on me,” she jokes and nudges Santana’s shoulder. “I’m not saying anything. I just think we could have had something pretty special too. Like you and Brittany have now.”
Santana’s worried frown smoothes over, and she smiles carefully, turning her face to the sun to soak up the rays and give her confidence. “Maybe…”
Quinn huffs. “Not ‘maybe’,” she whines, warping Santana’s nonchalant words. “Definitely. We would have been awesome together.”
“When we didn’t feel like ripping each other’s throats out, maybe,” Santana jokes.
Quinn shrugs. “That’s part of it, isn’t it?”
Santana smiles. “Yeah, it is.”
They fall into silence again, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company. Quinn’s mind is wrapped in fantasies, wondering about things she never thought she’d wonder. She remembers Santana’s soothing lullabies the nights she needed her most, and the warmth of her arms around her body, but remembers them with the warm swell of happiness that comes with friendship, not love. At least, mostly. She looks at Santana again, basking in the sun with her eyes and a contented smile on her face, and smiles, letting a twinge of a different kind of love creep into her heart.
“You look really beautiful like that, you know,” she flirts playfully.
“Jeez, Fabray, keep it in your pants,” Santana jokes back, and Quinn pushes on Santana’s arm so that the brunette destabilizes and falls to the grass with a surprised ‘Oof’. They’re lying next to each other now, Quinn propped up on her side with her head resting on her hand, and Santana on her back with her hair sprawled across the grass. Quinn can see the tiny laugh lines next to Santana’s eyes, and the way she licks her sundried lips absentmindedly.
“I have to go soon, you know,” the brunette murmurs regretfully, holding Quinn’s gaze.
“Yeah, I know,” Quinn answers simply. Of course she knows. Quinn’s not the last person Santana will say goodbye to. That’s Brittany. She knows. She gets it. She doesn’t mind. Rachel will be her last, even if the goodbye will no doubt go somewhat different than her hopes.
“I’m going to miss you, Q,” Santana says softly, and the laugh lines disappear.
“Come on, we’ll see each other again soon.” Quinn forces her own laugh lines, hoping they will infect Santana, but they don’t. A knot forms in her throat.
“It won’t be the same.”
“Things can never stay the same.”
“I wish they would.”
“Are you happy now then?” Quinn asks, curiously.
“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, Q, you know that,” Santana replies lightly, reaching forward to rest her hand over Quinn’s. Quinn holds it, tightly.
“I’ll miss you too,” she pauses, “and all the moments we could have had.”
Santana frowns, bemused. “What do you mean?”
“If we hadn’t been bitching at each other, if we hadn’t tearing each other’s hair out, if we would have just come out earlier…” a pause. She looks away, and then finishes so softly, she’s not sure Santana even hears her, “if we wouldn’t have been friends before we did.”
Santana is still, and Quinn can barely hear her breathe as her words sink in. Her heart is beating in her throat, but she pushes it down.
“Hey,” Santana whispers, and before Quinn even has the chance to look up, Santana has presses her lips to hers and Quinn is flying. Flying back through memories as though they’re nothing more than fragile pages of an open book in the wind, and she has the chance to rewrite it. Rewrite every line, starting with the one where they met - fast-forward to Brittany and pick up the eraser. Every moment of them - the wind carries the rubbings away as Quinn draws herself in Brittany’s place. Santana against her, leaning close at a sleepover of just them, turning her body inside out and touching her so tenderly - her first, not Puck. No baby, no Beth, no Shelby, no hair dye, no crash… Half her life, erased with the simple act of loving Santana. The Unholy Trinity, gone. No more fights, no vicious words, no outing campaign videos, no Rachel or heartbreaks. Quinn sighs into the kiss, and when Santana pulls away, she doesn’t let her, and holds the kiss for just a moment longer, just a moment, to write the last page. A goodbye. Not just to each other, but to the book and the chance to read this new version. A chance she knows she’ll never have.
Santana finally does pull away, and her eyes are full of concern. She hadn’t meant this. It was supposed to be a light kiss, a comfort for Quinn when she seemed so unusually confused and fragile. A goodbye. Friends. Nothing more.
Quinn nods reassuringly, and her smile is genuine.
“Quinn,” Santana starts carefully, picking her words uncertainly in her mind before letting them onto her lips - as she should have done before she let Quinn onto them. Quinn stops her, and her smile stretches wider. She knows she can’t hide the twinge of sadness in her eyes, but she doesn’t mind. They’re friends, and Santana will get it, eventually.
“It’s okay. I just wanted to see what it could have been like.”
“But…”
“I’m happy too, Santana,” she assures her. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And you’re part of the reason why.”
Santana is silent, her throat closed up and her frown creasing her forhead with different lines than the ones her smile draws into her face usually. Quinn smiles tenderly and runs her hand over Santana’s face. “No frowning. It’ll give you wrinkles.”
Santana only frowns deeper, but her lips break into an uncertain smile. “You are such a mystery, sometimes.”
Quinn smiles. “If I have anything to say about it, you’ll have plenty more moments to figure me out.”
Santana smiles back, and they hold each other’s gaze. The regret has disappeared from Quinn’s eyes, and the concern from Santana’s. It’s as it was again. Friends.
Santana sits up, brushes herself off, and leans to press a quick kiss to Quinn’s lips. Quinn is surprised at Santana’s confidence, considering what just happens, but it’s the kind of kiss Santana intended: quick, sweet, light. Quinn smiles up at her when she stands up.
“I’ll see you around, Q,” she says lightly, and then she’s gone.
Quinn rolls on her back as the sun comes out again, and thinks of the future instead of her past, believing for the first time that everything will work out.