Stronger Than This (8/11) Quinn: Quinn Knows
Title: Stronger than This. (8/?) Quinn: Quinn Knows
Pairing: Santana/Brittany; Santana/Puck bromance
Rating: R (For Language)
Summary: Quinn’s POV a month after “Sexy”. This fic starts with some pent up Santana angst and builds to battle royal.
Spoilers: Season 2: Sexy
Chapt 1: Santana - Chapt 2: Artie - Chapt 3:Puck - Chapt 4: Rachel -
Chapt 5:Finn - Chapt 6: Santana - Chapt 7: Kurt - Chapt 8: Quinn
Chapt 9: Brittany (Part 1) - (Part 2) -
Chapter 8
Quinn: Quinn Knows
Maybe I was being scary Quinn, I thought glancing around the room. A list of limo drivers lay on the table next to a spread of restaurant reviews. Magazine clippings of dress options were plastered to my bedroom wall. And a carefully organized set list was scribbled on and re-hashed before me, listing everyone on Glee club and the solo they would perform and when. Prom was tomorrow and I had finally finished making the preparations: decisions had been made, decorations ordered, reservations set, and even limo seats assigned for my friends. We were officially ready for prom.
Quinn knows best. I knew that I couldn’t leave the planning to Finn. He hadn’t a clue what to do and the night had to be perfect. Lucky for all of us, in Finn’s happy-go-lucky kind of way, he happily relinquished the planning responsibilities to me. And just in time, I smiled… it was ready.
Normally, I would have had things ready and organized weeks before now, but this week I had been slushied nine times. NINE! I spent more time in the locker room showering than in class. I had started taking three sets of clothes with me to school. It didn’t help.
On Thursday, I was slushied three separate times and had to drive home for another shirt. I thought to take it personally, but pretty much everyone on the cheerios had gotten it at one point this week. It didn’t make it right, but it didn’t make it personal.
On top of everything else, I still needed to get my solo ready for Prom. While Finn was going for a sexy version of “Every Breath You Take” by The Police, I had settled on a sweet novelty song called “Wishin and Hopin.“ I saw it performed on the movie My Best Friend’s Wedding. It was once sung by Annie Di Franco in a semi cheesy way, but by adding soft drums and a guitar riff, Finn and Puck helped make the song a bit more modern. Even still, I loved the cute choreography from the movie and enlisted Brittany and Santana to come by to learn the moves and practice tonight.
Luckily for me, both of them learned choreography quickly, so I wasn’t worried that prom was tomorrow. This didn’t mean there weren’t challenges recruiting them though. I wasn’t dumb, I could tell there had been tension between the two recently, but I didn’t care… They were the best dancers we had, so I bribed them. What else could I do, have Lauren Zises up there with me? No Thanks!
Brittany was easy. She said she’d been craving a cherry slushy for days. So I picked one up, though I think she would have done it for free anyway.
Santana was a bit more demanding… she made me re-organize the entire set list for prom. She was particular about when each of us would be singing. I didn’t mind doing that for her either, as long as I wasn’t singing the serenade for when the prom king and queen danced together. She allowed me to put myself and Finn early on in the night, so that we’d have plenty of time to prepare for our moment.
One thing that caught my attention though, was that after we organized the music to her satisfaction, I saw her text Puck a short text, “Phase three done.” Was all it said …It was weird.
When the door bell rings, I jump to my feet to see Brittany standing on the porch. With her blonde hair tied back in a pony, she seems ready to go in her bright green, cotton shorts. Her loose white tee hangs over her shoulder revealing a purple sports bra. As expected, her trend setting leg warmers nuzzle against her forearms. She looks to my empty hands disturbed, “Where’s my slushy?”
Santana comes up the driveway then too, her fist props tightly against her hip wearing dance workout clothing: a tight grey top and black yoga pants. Her expression looks as if she is about to smash a kid’s sandcastle. She looks at me with forced patience, then to Brittany with obvious angst. God, Santana was depressing lately.
“Can we just get this over with?” she says passing us into the house.
I oblige, pointing Brittany to the direction of her slurpy on the counter, and then pushing back the living room couch to make more space to practice.
“It’s really easy choreography,” I explain. “You’ve seen the movie right?” They nod. “Britt you stand on the right of me and Santana on the left.” Thankfully, they quickly come to their spots and listen to every instruction and detail as we go over the moves together.
Neither of them complains about the cheesy choreography as we quick mark each movement and formation. As I expect, it doesn’t take long. It might have even gone a little faster if throughout practice Britt and Santana stopped distracting themselves by watching each other. But I was used to it. I had danced with them since we were little girls in camp. I’d always known. Nothing abnormal there.
We dance the routine full out once to the music from the beginning. It’s hard to see the girls behind me, but as we turn and prance I can tell their both doing it full out. Brittany is even throwing in cute faces and gestures while Santana looks smoldering as hell. Thrilled, I realize this is going to look really great, after all. And who knew, if it turned out at prom, we might even be performing it for nationals in New York!
In one of the movements, Brittany is supposed to turn around and place a sash on the floor for me to lay on. As she turns, the sash tangles around her waist and legs and she screams aloud falling in a splay of long legs and skinny arms.
Although Santana has been trying to be distant, seeing Brittany fall, she can’t help herself. Her muffled giggling turns to a full out laugh. Brittany, a heap of chiffon lace, giggles into laughter as well.
I stop the music. ...Idiots.
Going to help, Santana reaches to untie the lace from Britt’s arm, but Brittany tosses a yard of the material over Santana’s head and drags her down. “Oh no you didn’t!” Santana shouts falling over and now tangled in the mess herself. I stand back laughing too hard to help.
Since cheerios, the three of us hadn’t danced together for awhile. I had forgotten how much fun we were together. I missed us: The unholy trinity.
Giggling like a kid, Santana smartly swings herself around pegging Brittany down with one arm and pulling the sash away to free herself. In response, Britt bites the cloth like a caged animal. Santana and I both reel into laughter at that. Brittany was beyond hilarious.
As hard as she tries, even Santana can't help from being amused. I haven't seen her smile like this in months and can't help but toss a pillow at her and all the fluff going on.
Stumbling now on her knees, Brittany turns unable to find the opening. Reaching to help, Santana lifts the lace away and pulls Brittany toward her. The lace releases them and falls to the floor, but they stay close. Still smiling, they kneel uncovered face to face, Brittany dips her forehead closer. Sensing the tone change, I avert me eyes.
It always came to this too, averting my eyes to not intrude on their moments. Reaching for Brittany’s face, Santana smoothes the static wisps of blonde hair down behind her ears. Brittany smiles warmly. The two are smitten.
Seeming to suddenly be aware of the danger there, Santana begins to stand, but Brittany pulls her back down so that they’re side by side practically sitting on each other’s laps. Brittany turns to me, changing the mood before Santana can escape, “You’re song is really gonna be cute, Quinn. I like how you remixed it.” Santana settles down then to my surprise, letting Brittany control the moment.
I nod, “Thanks,” doing my best to pretend not to notice that Brittany is holding Santana's arm behind her back. I sit down in front of them. It was a good time for a breather anyway.
“So what exactly is the plan for tomorrow?” Brittany asks then adds another question, “You excited?”
“Yeah,” I smile letting my eyes smile too. “I planned for all of the glee members to fit in two separate long limos. We’re doing dinner at separate restaurants then the limos will pick us up so we’ll be together.
“Maybe you shoulda planned for a tractor too, Lauren’s gonna need her one.” Santana quips. Brittany bursts into laughter again. And just like that, our dynamic is back. Who cared if we were rude, we were us.
“It took more planning that you realize, trying to separate our drama.” I explain. Brittany has now pulled Santana’s arm forward into her lap and in little circles drags her fingertips along Santana’s skin. I ignore it, like usual. I was used to playing dumb with these two. “In one limo I have some people I don’t quite get along with: Rachel and Sam, Tina and Mike, Kurt and Blaine, and Karofsky and you, Santana. In our limo I have me and Finn, Puck and Lauren, Mercedes and her man, and Brittany and Artie.” Santana flinches.
“So we won’t be riding together?” Brittany asks pointing to her best friend beside her.
“No,” I state as clear as glass. Sometimes Brittany could be dense. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.” With a look of panic, Santana nods thanking me. She didn't need to worry. I seperated them for a reason.. Quinn knows.
I roll my eyes, “By the way Santana, why are you going with Dave Karofsky in the first place?” I ask, “He’s done nothing but torture all of us all year.”
Santana shrugs, “I owe him a favor,” she explains curtly.
“Well, tell him that if he even thinks to slushy me at prom, I’ll show them scary Quinn!” I say, “Just let them slushy me, standing on stage with the prom queen crown on my head. I’d go all Carrie on them.” An image of the girl coated in pig blood with her fingers twitching comes to mind.
Brittany grins at that.
Tossing her hair back, Santana eyes me suspiciously… “What makes you think you still have a chance at prom queen?” she asks. Yep the dynamic was most definitely back. I welcomed her bitch side… it was better than her mope side. She continues, “You’ve been slushied every day this week. I think your rep is going down.” Suddenly there in her eyes I see the mastermind at work, something was going on.
“So…. What….?” I feel my tone getting defensive, “You think you’re going win the title?” No one really liked Santana, it was silly to get defensive. I knew she didn’t have a shot.
“No,” she says backing up to feign innocence. “I was slushied too. Ask Brittany, she was there.”
I look to Brittany who nods and says, “It smelled so delicious, I licked the wall when no one was around.”
Santana smiles.
“You were slushied too?” I ask aloud considering this. What was Santana up to?
“Yeah, most every cute girl in school was. You should lower your expectations is all.” She adds soaking the fire that’s beginning to burn in me.
The pieces were coming together in my head faster than I could comprehend their meaning… The changed set list, Santana owing Karofsky a favor, slushies… Before me Brittany rubs Santana’s shoulder and they share a bitter-sweet smile.
Glancing up, I again notice the leg warmers on Britt’s arm. Suddenly, the ditsy blonde with no idea becomes my biggest fear: The trendsetter who hadn’t been slushied. I imediately see the threat.
“Wanna go through the choreography again?” she asks innocently.
“No.” I stay standing. Voting would take place at the dance… I had exactly one day left to remind this school who’s on top. I stood. “Practice is over.”
Pushing the girls out, I watch Brittany jog a few steps to her car. Santana immediately gets on her phone. Through the front door, I hear her. “Quinn knows.”