[GFS Exchange Fic] Bait and Switch by thelastpen for obsetress
Title: Bait and Switch
Author: thelastpen
Written For: obsetress
Prompt: quinn/santana: antiquing with judy
Pairing: Santana/Quinn (light)
Rating: PG-13 for Mild Language
Spoilers: Not really
Summary: Quinn convinces Santana to go antiquing with her and Judy.
When her phone chirped at six AM with the annoying jangle of an incoming call from an unknown number, Santana grumbled and fumbled for it. “Whatever the hell it is, someone better be bleeding or they’re gonna be soon,” she growled, thumbing it on, not even bothering to open her eyes or lift her head from the pillow.
“Santana?” The familiar soft husk of Quinn’s voice filtered through the earpiece, “Sorry to call you so early, but I got a favor to ask.”
“Fabray?” Santana pushed herself up enough to glare blearily at the clock by her bed. “It’s six in the AM in the summer on one of the few days Sue ain’t riding our asses about practice. What the hell do you want, Blondie?”
“Calm your tits, Satan,” Quinn growled back. “I want to know if you want to go to Columbus today. My mom’s got a stick up her ass about bonding and is making me go with her and I want company.”
“Ugh, why me?” Santana grumbled, flopping over on her back. “I’s gots things to be doing today, Q.”
“Like what? Tanning? You’re Latina, you need a tanning bed like I need another teen pregnancy,” Quinn groused. “Just come. Please? It’ll be nice to hang out together.”
Santana sighed. “Why the hell does she want to drive all the way to Columbus anyway?”
“Shopping.” Santana could almost hear Quinn rolling her eyes through the phone, “She’s on this crazy antiquing kick and if I’ve got to spend the next few hours poking around dusty ass country stores, I need my second to back me up.”
“Antiquing, huh?”
For a moment, Santana brightened. She’d cut anyone who said it, but she actually kinda maybe sort of liked poking around in antique stores. So maybe it was kinda geeky, but she liked the mystery of it, okay? It was cool wondering how something got to the back corner of a little shop out in the middle of no where and anyone who thought otherwise could shut up. But she also had a reputation to protect.
“Sounds boring as hell. What do I get out of it?”
Quinn let out an exasperated sigh that almost coaxed a grin out of her second in command. “I’ll owe you -”
“What you’ll owe me is an outfit,” Santana broke in. “My choice too. Not one of your fifties housewife summer dresses.”
“Santana, don’t be ridiculous -”
“Q, don’t try and negotiate cause you kind of fail at it,” Santana snarked, pushing herself up out of bed and rummaging through her closet with the phone tucked against her shoulder. “One outfit and if you keep bitching, you’ll owe me shoes too.”
“Alright, fine! Jesus!”
Santana smirked, “That’s more like it. Alright. I’ll be out front in an hour. Be there or I’m going back to bed.”
“Whatever.” The line went dead, but Santana heard the gratefulness in her former captain’s voice.
Quinn hadn’t been kidding when she said her mom was on an antiquing kick. Or about the dustiness of the stores they’d spent the last two hours poking around in. Santana ran a finger lightly over a rickety old table and grimaced at the thick coat of dust she disturbed. She wasn’t sure if it was the gravel road they’d driven up on or just that little interest on the shopkeeper’s part to clean the place, but it was filthy.
She walked around the crowded little aisles with a vague look of disgust as she tried to avoid brushing too close to anything. Part of her attention was on the creaky wooden floor underfoot as if a mouse - or worse, a rat - would come flying out of the darkness at her feet. A glance at the aisle over through a gap showed her Judy fawning over what looked like a dressmaker’s form and babbling excitedly to Quinn.
Santana sighed. It looked like it was going to be a while longer in the dirty, cramped, little shop. She liked exploring antique shops, sure, but she preferred to get out before the filth ate her alive. Bored, she started poking inside of things, always keeping a wary eye out for the rodents she was certain were lurking in drawers and cabinets just waiting to get a bite of her fingers.
When she opened a battered thin brown box with a tag on the top reading $20 - Costume jewelry w/ box, it was idle curiosity. The gasp when Santana saw what was inside however, brought Quinn ducking around from the other aisle as she fumbled for a lighted jeweler’s loupe. Finding it, she flipped it open, peering through the tiny lens as she pored over the piece draped over her fingers.
“Santana, what are you doing?” Quinn hissed, but Santana waved her off.
It was gaudy. Hell, it was ugly. But the weight was right, and the marks too. She was pretty damn certain it was Tiffany. Setting it back in the box almost reverently, she snapped her loupe closed and dropped it in her purse. Closing the box, she picked it up.
“I’m getting this,” she announced, starting to make her way through the junk to the counter to pay.
“You’re... what?” Quinn hissed, dumbfounded as she reached out and grabbed Santana’s arm. “It’s a box of hideous costume jewelry!”
Looking around, Santana pulled Quinn into a cubby where they wouldn’t be disturbed. “No,” she growled, reaching into a fishbowl of costume necklaces and pulling out a handful, pushing it into her hand, “this is costume jewelry.”
Quinn looked from the light pile in her hand to Santana’s box and back in confusion. “What’s the difference? One’s just in a box.”
“Are you trying to be this dense, Fabray?” Santana hissed, setting the box down and carefully pulling out a simple necklace, placing it in Quinn’s free hand. “Do you feel the difference?”
She considered them for a moment before shrugging, “The one in your box is heavier, so?”
“So,” she rolled her eyes, snatching the necklace back and stowing it away again, “it’s not costume jewelry. I’ll have to take it to an expert, but I’m pretty sure this shit’s Tiffany, Q.”
“What?!” Quinn gasped, only to get Santana’s hand clapped over her mouth.
“Shut it, Tubbers! Do you want the owner of this place to know what he’s practically giving away for twenty bucks? Even if it’s not Tiffany, I’m pretty sure it’s real gold and silver so it’s got to be worth something even if it’s a box of knockoffs.” Santana shrugged.
Quinn looked confused, “How do you even know?”
“It’s bling,” she shrugged as if that explained everything, “I knows my bling.”
“Yeah but it’s old and,” Quinn stopped, a smirk slowly dawning on her lips, “you’re into this shit!”
“What?! No I’m not!” Santana gasped, trying to act appalled - which was difficult with a blush darkening her cheeks.
“You are!” she laughed, delighted by her observation, “You’re into antiquing! Oh my God, Santana!”
“Would you shut the hell up?!” Santana hissed, looking around to see what kind of scene her friend’s joy at her distress could be causing. “I’s got a rep to protect and I don’t need your crap!”
“Oh, whatever,” Quinn smirked at her, “I’m so not buying you that outfit you demanded. You wanted to come.”
Santana sneered, “Whatever, I’m still coming out ahead on this trip.” She held up her box triumphantly.
“Not when the owner of this dump finds out what it is,” Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, pleased to be in the position of power.
Santana narrowed her eyes unhappily at her, “What the hell do you want, Fabray.”
“Not much,” she shrugged, “I know none of that crap is your style, so you’re gonna sell it off.”
“Get to the damn point, Tubbers.”
One corner of Quinn’s lips turned up in a lopsided smile. “We both know you’ll be going to Breadstix with what you get, so... take me.”
“What?” Santana stared at her like she’d lost her mind.
“It’s simple,” she looked her over. “You don’t want me to tell, you take me to ‘Stix. Easy enough.”
Dark eyes narrowed at her. “Like... a date?”
Quinn thought about it, one brow raising curiously before she smirked. “Maybe.” With that, she spun on one low heeled shoe and sauntered off to find her mom.
Santana glared at her then looked confused. Had she seriously just been blackmailed into agreeing to go on a date with Quinn Fabray? She thought about it, then shook her head heading for the counter to pay.
No way.
Quinn was way too straight for that.
Over across the store, Quinn smiled at her mom as she sauntered up. Judy offered her a shy smile. “I take it your little plan was a success?” she asked softly.
“Not quite the way I intended,” Quinn glanced back over her shoulder, watching Santana buy her little treasure box with a sly smile, “but I’ve definitely got a toe in the door.”
“Oh good,” Judy smiled, dusting at her clothes, “can we go then? This place is disgusting. I can’t even believe you got me to agree to go into one of these decrepit old stores, even if it is to make my baby girl happy.”
“It’s because you love me,” Quinn smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Come on, let’s head into Columbus for some real shopping.”
“That’s my girl,” Judy chuckled softly, following her out to the car.
Author: thelastpen
Written For: obsetress
Prompt: quinn/santana: antiquing with judy
Pairing: Santana/Quinn (light)
Rating: PG-13 for Mild Language
Spoilers: Not really
Summary: Quinn convinces Santana to go antiquing with her and Judy.
When her phone chirped at six AM with the annoying jangle of an incoming call from an unknown number, Santana grumbled and fumbled for it. “Whatever the hell it is, someone better be bleeding or they’re gonna be soon,” she growled, thumbing it on, not even bothering to open her eyes or lift her head from the pillow.
“Santana?” The familiar soft husk of Quinn’s voice filtered through the earpiece, “Sorry to call you so early, but I got a favor to ask.”
“Fabray?” Santana pushed herself up enough to glare blearily at the clock by her bed. “It’s six in the AM in the summer on one of the few days Sue ain’t riding our asses about practice. What the hell do you want, Blondie?”
“Calm your tits, Satan,” Quinn growled back. “I want to know if you want to go to Columbus today. My mom’s got a stick up her ass about bonding and is making me go with her and I want company.”
“Ugh, why me?” Santana grumbled, flopping over on her back. “I’s gots things to be doing today, Q.”
“Like what? Tanning? You’re Latina, you need a tanning bed like I need another teen pregnancy,” Quinn groused. “Just come. Please? It’ll be nice to hang out together.”
Santana sighed. “Why the hell does she want to drive all the way to Columbus anyway?”
“Shopping.” Santana could almost hear Quinn rolling her eyes through the phone, “She’s on this crazy antiquing kick and if I’ve got to spend the next few hours poking around dusty ass country stores, I need my second to back me up.”
“Antiquing, huh?”
For a moment, Santana brightened. She’d cut anyone who said it, but she actually kinda maybe sort of liked poking around in antique stores. So maybe it was kinda geeky, but she liked the mystery of it, okay? It was cool wondering how something got to the back corner of a little shop out in the middle of no where and anyone who thought otherwise could shut up. But she also had a reputation to protect.
“Sounds boring as hell. What do I get out of it?”
Quinn let out an exasperated sigh that almost coaxed a grin out of her second in command. “I’ll owe you -”
“What you’ll owe me is an outfit,” Santana broke in. “My choice too. Not one of your fifties housewife summer dresses.”
“Santana, don’t be ridiculous -”
“Q, don’t try and negotiate cause you kind of fail at it,” Santana snarked, pushing herself up out of bed and rummaging through her closet with the phone tucked against her shoulder. “One outfit and if you keep bitching, you’ll owe me shoes too.”
“Alright, fine! Jesus!”
Santana smirked, “That’s more like it. Alright. I’ll be out front in an hour. Be there or I’m going back to bed.”
“Whatever.” The line went dead, but Santana heard the gratefulness in her former captain’s voice.
Quinn hadn’t been kidding when she said her mom was on an antiquing kick. Or about the dustiness of the stores they’d spent the last two hours poking around in. Santana ran a finger lightly over a rickety old table and grimaced at the thick coat of dust she disturbed. She wasn’t sure if it was the gravel road they’d driven up on or just that little interest on the shopkeeper’s part to clean the place, but it was filthy.
She walked around the crowded little aisles with a vague look of disgust as she tried to avoid brushing too close to anything. Part of her attention was on the creaky wooden floor underfoot as if a mouse - or worse, a rat - would come flying out of the darkness at her feet. A glance at the aisle over through a gap showed her Judy fawning over what looked like a dressmaker’s form and babbling excitedly to Quinn.
Santana sighed. It looked like it was going to be a while longer in the dirty, cramped, little shop. She liked exploring antique shops, sure, but she preferred to get out before the filth ate her alive. Bored, she started poking inside of things, always keeping a wary eye out for the rodents she was certain were lurking in drawers and cabinets just waiting to get a bite of her fingers.
When she opened a battered thin brown box with a tag on the top reading $20 - Costume jewelry w/ box, it was idle curiosity. The gasp when Santana saw what was inside however, brought Quinn ducking around from the other aisle as she fumbled for a lighted jeweler’s loupe. Finding it, she flipped it open, peering through the tiny lens as she pored over the piece draped over her fingers.
“Santana, what are you doing?” Quinn hissed, but Santana waved her off.
It was gaudy. Hell, it was ugly. But the weight was right, and the marks too. She was pretty damn certain it was Tiffany. Setting it back in the box almost reverently, she snapped her loupe closed and dropped it in her purse. Closing the box, she picked it up.
“I’m getting this,” she announced, starting to make her way through the junk to the counter to pay.
“You’re... what?” Quinn hissed, dumbfounded as she reached out and grabbed Santana’s arm. “It’s a box of hideous costume jewelry!”
Looking around, Santana pulled Quinn into a cubby where they wouldn’t be disturbed. “No,” she growled, reaching into a fishbowl of costume necklaces and pulling out a handful, pushing it into her hand, “this is costume jewelry.”
Quinn looked from the light pile in her hand to Santana’s box and back in confusion. “What’s the difference? One’s just in a box.”
“Are you trying to be this dense, Fabray?” Santana hissed, setting the box down and carefully pulling out a simple necklace, placing it in Quinn’s free hand. “Do you feel the difference?”
She considered them for a moment before shrugging, “The one in your box is heavier, so?”
“So,” she rolled her eyes, snatching the necklace back and stowing it away again, “it’s not costume jewelry. I’ll have to take it to an expert, but I’m pretty sure this shit’s Tiffany, Q.”
“What?!” Quinn gasped, only to get Santana’s hand clapped over her mouth.
“Shut it, Tubbers! Do you want the owner of this place to know what he’s practically giving away for twenty bucks? Even if it’s not Tiffany, I’m pretty sure it’s real gold and silver so it’s got to be worth something even if it’s a box of knockoffs.” Santana shrugged.
Quinn looked confused, “How do you even know?”
“It’s bling,” she shrugged as if that explained everything, “I knows my bling.”
“Yeah but it’s old and,” Quinn stopped, a smirk slowly dawning on her lips, “you’re into this shit!”
“What?! No I’m not!” Santana gasped, trying to act appalled - which was difficult with a blush darkening her cheeks.
“You are!” she laughed, delighted by her observation, “You’re into antiquing! Oh my God, Santana!”
“Would you shut the hell up?!” Santana hissed, looking around to see what kind of scene her friend’s joy at her distress could be causing. “I’s got a rep to protect and I don’t need your crap!”
“Oh, whatever,” Quinn smirked at her, “I’m so not buying you that outfit you demanded. You wanted to come.”
Santana sneered, “Whatever, I’m still coming out ahead on this trip.” She held up her box triumphantly.
“Not when the owner of this dump finds out what it is,” Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, pleased to be in the position of power.
Santana narrowed her eyes unhappily at her, “What the hell do you want, Fabray.”
“Not much,” she shrugged, “I know none of that crap is your style, so you’re gonna sell it off.”
“Get to the damn point, Tubbers.”
One corner of Quinn’s lips turned up in a lopsided smile. “We both know you’ll be going to Breadstix with what you get, so... take me.”
“What?” Santana stared at her like she’d lost her mind.
“It’s simple,” she looked her over. “You don’t want me to tell, you take me to ‘Stix. Easy enough.”
Dark eyes narrowed at her. “Like... a date?”
Quinn thought about it, one brow raising curiously before she smirked. “Maybe.” With that, she spun on one low heeled shoe and sauntered off to find her mom.
Santana glared at her then looked confused. Had she seriously just been blackmailed into agreeing to go on a date with Quinn Fabray? She thought about it, then shook her head heading for the counter to pay.
No way.
Quinn was way too straight for that.
Over across the store, Quinn smiled at her mom as she sauntered up. Judy offered her a shy smile. “I take it your little plan was a success?” she asked softly.
“Not quite the way I intended,” Quinn glanced back over her shoulder, watching Santana buy her little treasure box with a sly smile, “but I’ve definitely got a toe in the door.”
“Oh good,” Judy smiled, dusting at her clothes, “can we go then? This place is disgusting. I can’t even believe you got me to agree to go into one of these decrepit old stores, even if it is to make my baby girl happy.”
“It’s because you love me,” Quinn smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Come on, let’s head into Columbus for some real shopping.”
“That’s my girl,” Judy chuckled softly, following her out to the car.