Disclaimer: We do not own Glee, its characters, or its storylines. We are glad we don't have responsibility of that fuckery. lol.

The story is co-written by myself and my girlfriend (Kenmura)

The story follows the plot of season 4 and therefore begins with Brittana as a couple. A Quinntana romance will be developed as the story progresses. I hope you enjoy! Be sure to leave comments.


Santana looks up at her metallic old wall clock, one eye barely open and a good long second passes before she actually notices the time and realizes she's only got half an hour to prepare for another busy day at Louisville University. She overslept. Fuck. Santana jumps out of her bed and runs to the bathroom, strips off of her clothing just as she remembers her promise to Brittany of having a brief 'good morning'chat. They have been having problems with communication like most other long distance relationship couples, which is exactly why they made an agreement to greet each other at least every morning through Skype. It's not easy at all for them to be apart when they had basically been attached at the hip in all of their high school years and not a single day had gone by without them seeing one and another.

She hurriedly jumps to her PC, opens Skype, scans her friend list names looking for 'Brit-Brit' and clicks the profile to call while looking at the clock on her wall again. In 25 minutes the first practice of the day starts and she cannot allow herself to be late. Unbeknownst to her, she had accidentally clicked another name, 'Bitch', on the list. And before even waiting for the call to be answered, Santana rushes to the bathroom to have a quick shower.

In a narrow-spaced dormitory, empty plastic cups lie scattered on a wooden desk topping dozens of coffee-stained documents that carry words such as 'justice' and 'injunction'. Quinn is nearing the end of a painfully boring all-nighter and with a relieved sigh she takes a final look. She scans her assignment for typos when suddenly a window from Skype pops up, showing the name of 'Santana Lopez' on her laptop screen. Santana is calling?

Quinn is definitely surprised to see her long time on-and-off frenemy's name appearing on her screen. Especially at 5.35 AM. Her eyebrows arch in confusion. You know how it is when you got a bunch of "friends" in your messenger but never really talked with them? That's what Quinn and Santana are having.

Quinn considers to ignore the call, because who calls at 5-something in the morning anyway? Not to mention from Skype. But seeing how Santana doesn't give up and cancels the call, her curiosity wins the mental battle. She reluctantly clicks the 'accept' button and a camera screen from the other side shows an empty room. Quinn raises her eyebrows in confusion calling: "Santana? Uhm.. Are you there?", She worries a bit that the other girl may be in some kind of trouble, and waits for several minutes, until Santana steps inside the room. A very naked Santana. Well, covered with a towel - Her hair, that is. Quinn freezes, not knowing how to react. It's not like she hasn't seen Santana naked body before, both of them had been naked in front of each other plenty of times when they had to shower in Cheerios locker room. But definitely never on her laptop screen where every inch of her friend's caramel skin is up for display. Quinn begins to think of herself as one of those horny frat boys who likes to pay a subscription every month to watch a certain porn site. pft, not that I know anything about those kinds of repulsive activities.

As she starts to wonder whether or not the call is somehow a mistake on Santana's part, Quinn looks away from the screen, thinking of what to say. She hears Santana rambles on as she dries her hair, in what seems to be a hurry, while facing away from the camera, "Hey, babe. I'm really late for practice… Sorry I just left the call on while I showered but it was necessary to cut time. Isn't it funny how we thought we wouldn't have another cheerleading practice by 2012 and here we are doing the exact thing for the 5th year in a row?"

Quinn realizes that her guess had been correct. The call had been an accident. Quinn concludes that it was supposed to have been Brittany and not herself on the receiving end.

"Uh, San..can you hear me? I think you made a mistake.." Quinn clears her throat as she starts to talk, hoping Santana can hear her. She diverted her eyes somewhere else outside her screen, deep down knowing she can just minimize the camera view, but is reluctant to do so.

"I can't believe I overslept! Carrie will kill me. If you think Sue was bad, you should see how Carrie does her job. She gave us homework! Oh my God, what kind of cheerleading coach gives homework? She made us do a long essay on the history of cheerleading and the impact with economy!", Santana continues to talk while glances to the PC from the side of her eye, enough to see a blonde girl picture on the screen. Quinn can't help but think of the terrifying idea that Sue is only one out of - perhaps many - mentally deranged coaches out there.

Santana walks to her closet, opens the door and bends over, reaching for her training shoes kept inside. Quinn gasps at the sight and frantically tries to minimize the window of the camera without turning off the call. "Santana! Ugh…why can't you hear me!?", Quinn exclaims as she gets more and more frustrated with her clueless friend.

"Anyway, I really miss you, babe. That's why I'm really trying hard to keep our agreement to call each other every morning no matter how busy we are", Santana finally manages to put on her uniform completely and walks to her PC, patting herself internally on the back for having succeeded to prepare in such a short period of time. However it doesn't take long until her eyes finally divert the focus towards her PC screen and that the picture displayed isn't Brittany's, but Quinn's. "What the…", She sprints to the table, and picks up her earphones. "Quinn?"

"Yes. Quinn. Not Brittany, Santana", Quinn makes an annoyed face even though she knows well enough that her friend can't see it.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry", Santana clasps a hand over her mouth while holding back a laughter. "I must've clicked the wrong name!"

"How come you clicked my name? My name started with 'Q', San. That's a long way down from 'B'. Or do you have a very short list of friends? I wouldn't be surprised", Quinn comments before hearing a playful hurt gasp from the other end.

"Well, Quinn, FYI, I actually have a very long list of friends that sometimes it gets confusing. And the reason why I mistakenly called you is because I put your name as Bitch", Santana says smirking, making sure she puts an extra pressure on the last word.

Quinn practically rolls her eyes into the back of her head, "Of course it is."

This time Santana lets herself laugh knowing she won this round. "Look, I really gots to go. Got practice that will start like…now", She says, taking her bag as she stands up, and gets ready to end the call. She hears Quinn sighing,

"Next time, leave me out from your perverted online naked show", Quinn feels her cheek blush as the words slip out of her mouth.

"Right…" Santana stops, not sure of what to say, and begins chuckling to hide her embarrassment of realizing that the change in settings makes her camera turned on automatically every time she's on call. It has unmistakably backfired. "Nothing you haven't seen, Q", She says, winking to the camera, before ending the call. Santana practically runs out of her dorm room, knowing she's going to be in a lot of hell for being late.

Quinn sighs and shakes her head, thinking how she actually misses her loud-mouthed fierce friend. Maybe they can actually use Skype to catch up once in a while. Or maybe not. Quinn finally decides she needs a good rest. A couple of hours sleep before the first class today will give her the energy she needs for another long day at Yale. She remembers to save her assignment and is about to close her laptop before an idea pops into her head. Quinn re-opens her Skype window, and searches through her friend list for the name of 'Santana Lopez' and edits it to 'Stripper'. 1-1