A/N: New installment :) Much love and adoration for my two betas! Zippadedoodah, for picking apart my plot, and Susurrus Night, for fixing my English! They have helped me turn my drivel into a story ;)

Some warnings: Dom/Sub play, minor violence (some sexual), dark content/angsty aaaaaaand fisting

Reviews are much appreciated :D

Brittany's soft blonde hair felt nice, curled around her fingers. The locks were cool to the touch, without a single knot to mar them, and Santana would love to be able to play with them in public. But it was only ever Brittany who played with Santana's hair in public. Because it was okay for Brittany to do that: to everyone else Brittany was a simpleton. Santana was – or had been – one of the top girls of the school. She slept with guys like Puck. She did not sleep with dimwitted blonde girls.

And she didn't; Brittany was no dimwit. She didn't allow anyone to call Brittany any variation of the word 'dumb', but she also didn't tell anyone that they had a more than friendly relationship. Santana was comfortable with the open relationship they had and not ready to let anyone else know about it. Brittany had nearly ruined everything when she outed the two of them over the phone, but Santana had waved it off and the Gleeks hadn't been stupid enough to spread the word. Things didn't change, so she could taste and touch Brittany whenever she wanted to all the while fucking Puck on the side when she was in the mood. Brittany herself dated guys on the side, but no matter what happened they were always together.

They came home to one another; the others were just mini-vacations. Brittany was hers no matter who touched her. Santana was never jealous and neither was Brittany. They were happy together.

Santana couldn't suppress a small smile as Brittany nuzzled deeper into her neck and wrapped one long, amazingly toned leg around Santana's waist. The glow of the television made Brittany look ethereal in the dark room. It was almost disturbing, reminding Santana of the time when – as kids – Brittany had gone to elementary school claiming that one of her ancestors was an elf. Santana had argued with the girl 'til she was red in the face, trying to point out that elves weren't real in spite of Brittany's unwavering belief. But deep down, she found Brittany strange and a bit mysterious; part of her had wondered if maybe it was possible, as they played fairyland. Of course she got over it and Brittany herself had decided after a few weeks that her ancestors were really royalty, instead. That started another round of arguments and a new round of games where Santana was King and Brittany was Queen.

"This is nice. It's been a while."

Santana said nothing, blinking away the memories of her childhood to focus on her more urgent and recent past. Her libido had died down recently, since Quinn wrapped the whole school around her finger. Guys didn't want to be seen with her. Even Puck had stopped calling her, fearing Quinn's wrath. The never-ending abuse was also stressing her out. Her energy for sex had been lacking and Brittany's patience had to have been wearing thin, if that night's strenuous activity was any indication.

"Yeah, I know babe..." she breathed in Brittany's hair and snuggled deeper into her bed.

"You need to talk to Quinn."

It was difficult to focus on what Brittany was saying when she was tracing weird little words on Santana's stomach. When she had asked what Brittany wrote, the girl had told her it was in Dutch and she wouldn't get it.

"Don't be ridiculous Brit... Quinn would probably eat me alive. I need to focus on Rachel."

"But you need Quinn."

Santana frowned at that, not entirely sure what Brittany was trying to say.

"I don't need that white trash slut. All I need is for her to leave me the fuck alone." She shifted on the bed to get a better look at Brittany, glad that it didn't creak as much as her own did. Not that Brittany's parents were particularly concerned about Santana. They trusted her with their daughter. The same could not be said of Santana's more conservative family.

"Don't call her that." Brittany sighed and sat up against the bed frame.

"Preggo and that rabid midget are fucking."

Brittany shifted on her bed to face Santana better.

"An Eggo and a badger?"

Santana stared at Brittany for a long moment. Those crystalline blue eyes stared back at her, nonplussed.

"No... Preggo – that would be Fabray – and Berry – that would be the rabid... never mind. They're having sex. That's why Quinn is trying to kill me."

"She's not trying to kill you. She just wants to hurt you."

Santana's eyes narrowed as she tried to follow along with Brittany. Talking to her had a tendency to turn stressful when Santana didn't keep up. Most people assumed Brittany couldn't follow along with the average conversation, but after years with Brittany, Santana had figured out that the problem really lay with whoever spoke to Brittany. The girl was usually light years ahead of the conversation and had a tendency to fixate on certain points of a topic that only appeared meaningless. Sometimes Santana wondered if Brittany only pretended to be stupid in order to amuse herself.

So in two sentences Brittany conveyed several things: she wasn't surprised about Quinn and Rachel's relationship. She had to have been aware it was coming. And she had left Santana in the dark about it. That pissed Santana off. Brittany had known Quinn's motivations beforehand and hadn't warned Santana of a damn thing!

Questions ran through her mind in rapid succession.

"What the hell Brit?! You couldn't tell me this before that goddamn slushie attack? Look at me! I'm being fucked with by the entire school! They're treating me like shit!"

"I didn't really know. I mean, it's not like they told me or I saw them. It's not right to say stuff you don't know to be real. And you can still fix this."

At that Santana jumped off the bed and stood ramrod straight, absolutely furious at the calm woman still sitting on the bed comfortably.

"Fix it? Fix it! Do you know how many years I spent protecting you?! Fighting idiots left and right who wanted to pick on you!" The betrayal was sharp and deep, particularly since Brittany was all she had left. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Brittany flinched and it was all Santana could do to remember why she was pissed off in the first place and not let those hurt baby blues melt her on the spot. Especially since Brittany was still very naked with the blankets tangled up around her legs.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm trying to help. I didn't think I had to tell you to stay away from Rachel. Everyone else seemed to figure it out. I thought you –"

"Do I give a damn about staying away from Berry? You realise how ridiculous that sounds? That I need to stay away from that anal retentive freak in argyle! You should have told me Brittany! What the hell!"

What upset her most was how calm Brittany seemed. Normally when Santana was upset with her, Brittany would go out of her way to appease Santana's temper. Instead she sat there looking delectable and mildly bemused. It was frustrating.

"You fucked me over."


"No. I'm not happy." She averted her eyes and got dressed quickly, ignoring the heat building up behind her eyes. She would not cry.

"You need Quinn."

"Fuck you." Santana froze at the door, unable to believe she had actually said that to Brittany. But when she turned around all Brittany did was watch her with a clenched jaw. The girl could burst into tears when someone told her she couldn't have some tiny trinket, but she just stared at Santana when told to fuck off.

"You still need Quinn."

"I don't need Quinn! God you are so... so... so!" Her face turned red as she struggled to stifle her outrage. With a snarl she slammed the door on her way out.

Brittany sighed at the door, feeling a little hurt and a little excited.

She knew what she was doing. Everything would be alright in the end.


Rachel sat at her table and stared at the computer screen, caught between sadness and joy.

People were watching her MySpace videos. They were watching and commenting. Positive comments. There was actual praise for her. No one mocked her. And while it should have made her ecstatic it only left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was difficult, adjusting to her new status.

Ever since that first day in elementary school, when a boy named Josh threw sand in her hair and everyone laughed, she had been waiting for this day. The day when people recognized her for her worth. People were talking to her, inviting her to parties and demanding her attention. It was up to her whether or not to dismiss them. And they came to her in flocks. She was popular.

Only she wasn't. Quinn was popular. Rachel was only leeching off of her. And it was strange, because it hadn't bothered her so much when she was chasing after Finn. The boy had almost the same potential as Quinn. She was supposed to latch onto him and then people would recognize her.

But with Quinn, things weren't so simple. After that first night together, things got very complicated. Quinn had been vulnerable and Rachel had no idea what she was doing. They both quickly realised that they had stumbled upon something important and dangerous but they didn't know what to do about it.

Rachel would never forget the way the blonde had exposed herself, her every wound on display, and all because of Rachel's touch. It was a heady power, the ability to make someone so defenceless, and it kind of scared her. It had scared Quinn too. Instead of moving forward, they stepped back. They started a careful dance, watching what they said to one another. But everything had changed.

Just thinking about how attached she had become to her former tormentor made her want to hyperventilate. She could not watch a girl bare her beautiful, damaged soul to her and feel nothing.

She wasn't supposed to feel that way. Rachel had mapped out a good chunk of her life by the age of seven and falling into a deeply confusing and powerful relationship did not enter into the equation. Least of all by the age of sixteen. She was petrified.

Rachel clicked to the next page, reading more praise, her ears on alert for when Quinn came home from her therapy session. They hadn't talked about Quinn's sessions and that was okay by Rachel.

Omg that was amazing srsly! U shud get a record deal babe!

She smiled weakly at the comment, painfully aware that the girl who wrote it had once organized a snowball attack on her that had left her bruised for almost two weeks.

The front door creaked as it opened and shut, making Rachel stiffen. She listened as Quinn walked to her own bedroom like she had every night since they'd slept together.

She wondered if Quinn was as conflicted as she was. The stoic girl kept close to Rachel and was even friendly but there was a distance between them. Neither of them were comfortable talking about what had happened.

And she didn't know what bothered her more: that they weren't exploring what was one of the most intense moments of her life, or that she felt relieved that she could stall things a little longer.

Sighing to herself, she clicked the window closed and settled on her bed to study, carefully pretending that she wasn't listening for Quinn.


Santana had never been much of a planner. It was what always held her back at Quinn's little games. All her life she had been a nobody; grow up as one of too many kids in one little house with a single mother and you get forgotten. She was the youngest in her family. One of five kids. Everyone looked out for themselves and everyone was an asshole. Her only sister ran away from home at fifteen, high on drugs and useless. She learned about life from her older brothers and her worn out ghost of a mother.

Her femininity was resilient, so even in a house full of boys she had managed to learn about womanhood. Learned mainly from her friends and the media, which was fucked up. No one could distort womanhood more than idiots her own age and the TV. But Santana was smart. She picked up on a lot of guy stuff from her brothers that she quickly realised every girl should have too. So she grew a backbone that could tough things out, even with her eldest brother, and an attitude that got things done.

But she wasn't a planner. She was just a doer. Granted, she normally wouldn't go into something completely unprepared, but even her backbone was suffering from all the abuse at school. So when she decided to completely wing it when talking to Rachel, she knew she was biting off more than she could chew. She had hoped to seduce the girl.

"Ray-chel." Santana winced at how awkward and stupid the name sounded as it fell from her lips. Old habits told her to sneer and find a way to make it seem like she had fumbled on purpose. As if it were some sort of joke on her part. But she had spent two weeks avoiding Brittany and stalking Rachel, and it just wasn't worth screwing everything up by acting a bitch now. When else would she get a chance to snag some alone time with the irritating little dwarf?

If Rachel wasn't surrounded by Gleeks then she was surrounded by simpering idiots who were trying to get into Quinn's good book by playing nice with her socially deficient best friend. And then Quinn herself would be watching from a distance, making sure Santana didn't spend too much time feeling safe or comfortable.

But not this time. Glee practice had finished and Rachel was walking to her car alone. Quinn had apparently fallen ill in the meantime. Santana might never get another chance.

"Hey Rachel!" She snapped, when the girl barely paused in her walk. That tone made her stop at the driver's side door and turn around.

"Santana, I will have you know that while I may be statistically smaller than you and the majority of McKinley I have taken self-defense lessons for five years and have been ranked the top student in my class." At Santana's blank stare she added: "We specialized in fending off opponents with masses greater than our own."

Santana's lip quirked a little because she was fairly certain Rachel was scared of her by the way she held her bag to her chest. So either she was lying about the lessons or Santana still had the ability to strike fear in the hearts of nerds. It brightened up her stressful day considerably. So she went forward with her plan feeling a lot more confident.

"I'm not here to attack you Rachel," the sarcasm helped mask her discomfort. "I'm just here to talk."

"What is it?" She opened the door, eager to put a barrier between them.

"I..." She trailed off, her cockiness deflating at the sound of some jocks walking by, laughing. She instinctively moved around Rachel's car to hide and stay out of their line of sight. Her heart sped up, hands got sweaty and she felt sick. She had never stayed around the school after hours, but before it used to be about how lame it was to stick around when school was over. Now she was mainly panicking. She had become number one on everyone's hit list.

"Not exactly a happy place to be is it?" Rachel relaxed a little. "It's kind of weird actually... them making me feel safer around you when they used to... well, you know."

Santana stared at Rachel with an unreadable expression. It had never really occurred to her that Rachel had suffered because of her. She could be so damn resilient and irritating. And now Rachel was fucking Fabray, who was the ultimate bitch and tormentor. But her quiet disposition and battle weary gaze gave Santana an idea.

"I'm sorry." Rachel scoffed, making her elaborate: "I know what I've done to you is bad. I've always known."


"If I knew then what I know now..."

"Of course you wouldn't do it a second time around. Or – at least – you'd do it without getting caught." She smiled wryly at the way Santana's eyes avoided her own. "See, you didn't really learn anything. You're just unhappy because she's punishing you."

Santana froze as Rachel slipped into the driver's seat and shut the door. Her chance was getting away from her.

"Okay. Okay!" She snarled, knocking on the window until Rachel slid it open. "I can't say that I'm regretting it for any other reason than getting caught."

Rachel sighed and started the ignition.

"Wait!" Holding onto the window ledge, she tried to keep her desperation to a minimum. "You're the better person alright? I'd never argue otherwise." She watched as Rachel's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel so she sped things up. "You are the better person. So I know you aren't going to let this keep going."

Rachel said nothing. Anxiety started choking Santana up. She was a major bitch, a vicious Cheerio, but even she had her limits after two months of agony. Never would she admit to begging or trying to appeal to someone's sympathy, but she had run out of options.

"Come on Rachel! They're doing more than throwing slushies in my damn face! They're destroying my shit, they're spitting on me! I can't... I'm not like you for God's sake; I'm not cut out for this. Isn't it enough? You didn't make Quinn go through this and she's done worse stuff to you than I have!"

"Stop." She hissed at Santana, who paused immediately. "Don't you dare compare yourself to Quinn! You're entirely different people." She switched gears out of park. "And I didn't have to punish her, life punished her for me. Now step away from the car, Lopez."

Santana watched as Rachel started pulling out from the parking lot. Old, familiar anger resurfaced.

"Fine! Just go then! Just fuck me Berry! Just like your girlfriend did years ago! Did you make her cum half as hard as I did?! Yeah! You – HEY!" She jumped back as the car violently jerked backwards, Rachel accidently hitting the gas instead of the brakes in her shock. But she recovered quickly enough, stopping before she slammed into the car behind her. And then the little midget - in her five foot two glory – jumped out of the car in the middle of the parking lot and stalked over to Santana.

"What did you say?" Rachel's voice cracked and she stared at Santana with wide eyes.

Santana held her position though she was inwardly worried that the jocks had heard the commotion, and seeing Rachel all flustered, would promptly beat the crap out of her.

"Queen Fabray didn't tell you? Did you think you were her first?" Santana smirked, canting her head at Rachel condescendingly. Anger was better than fear; she clung to her rage and indignation.

"She's been with Puck... just Puck. You... you're just messing with me!"

"Oh no she's been with Puck. No question about that." Her smile grew wider. "And me. And Brittany too. You know us girls... we three were always so close."

Rachel turned pale.

"I guess she hasn't told you. Makes sense... why would clean little Quinn Fabray tell her new girlfriend about the lesbian threesome she had with her two friends from high school?"

"Wh-what? Threesome?" Rachel looked absolutely dumbfounded and horrified.

"Yeah. Threesome. Me and Brittany. And her."

The two of them stood a meter apart. Santana had crossed her arms around her chest, pretending it was to intimidate the brunette and not to protect herself. She had been stupid, exposing herself and Quinn like that. Quinn would be uber-pissed and Santana had probably fallen even further out of what little of Rachel's good graces she could have grabbed onto.

Rachel was stunned and dazed, making Santana nervous.

"We did it. I mean, it was a long time ago. But we did it..."

"Both of you... at the same time."

"Yeah... that's how threesomes work." She tried to keep herself from mocking the girl too much.

"What... she never... we..."

"I... probably shouldn't have said anything." She swallowed hard, fear creeping up her spine at the thought of how Quinn would have a fucking explosion waiting for her. She would have to leave the state and start over... but that was the whole point of being a Cheerio, to leave the state. If she could have done it any time then she would have done it years ago.

"She didn't say anything..."

"Okay, like, relax. It didn't mean anything. I only said it to piss you off and make you stop leaving." She tried to fix things before Rachel ratted her out. "I just... like I said, I'm not cut out for this."

Rachel turned away and silently made her way back to the car, freezing when Santana grabbed her wrist.

"Rachel!" She choked on her frustration. The last thing she wanted to do was be sincere. But if all else failed she knew sincerity would work with Rachel. And she was damned tired of the torture and constant, nagging anxiety that had started following her around at school.

Her grades were dropping, her skills at Cheerio practice were flailing and she was swiftly losing her grip on her one way ticket the hell out of Lima.

"Rachel, please. She didn't tell you because it didn't matter to her at all." When Rachel refused to turn around she tried again. "I just... I can't take it anymore Rachel. Please. Call her off. I'm not going to go near you, okay? I promise."

"Let me go."

Santana dropped her hand away and watched mutely as Rachel stepped back into her car and drove off. She felt paralyzed, standing there and gawking at what was left of her dignity.


"Well, well, well.... if it ain't Santy. Bitch, who the fuck told you that you could stick around here?" Someone laughed behind her.

She turned around to see five guys from the basketball team laughing and watching her.

"I dunno man, way she looks in those Cheerio skirts... I don't mind her stickin' around. Bet you'd like it if I stuck it to you, eh babe?"

Santana shifted her feet on the pavement, trying to get a better stance.

"Fuck off."

They jeered and laughed, amused by her antics.

"Ooooo chica is gonna fight back!"

"Is she this spicy in bed?"

"Oh man you know what would be awesome?! When, in a million years, would we ever be allowed to shove a Cheerio in a fucking Porta-Pottie and get away with it?"

At that they hooted and hollered and Santana was off running, cursing them out and hating the world. But they were runners too.

And so they caught her.


Rachel came home, quiet and awkward. She could sense Quinn and her parents giving her weird looks but she told them she was tired so they gave her space.

When dinner was finished she darted up to her room quickly, trying to avoid Quinn. But it was a moot point because not five minutes after she had closed the door, Quinn was knocking.

"Come in..."

She lay on her back on the bed and looked up at Quinn with new eyes. The intensity of the stare clearly shook the blonde, who stood at the door nervously looking back at her.

"Are you alright?" Quinn's voice was raspy from the throat infection she'd been fighting off all week. Technically she wasn't allowed anywhere near Rachel, as per Rachel's orders, but where the rules were practically written in stone for others, they were more guidelines for Quinn.

"Yes. I'm fine."

There was more silence and Quinn let herself into the room. She sat by Rachel's hip, running her fingers over Rachel's. Her therapist had encouraged her to start giving Rachel some minor physical contact when she had talked about her jumbled up feelings for her. Quinn wasn't normally very touchy – Finn could attest to that – but her therapist had suggested she try being more relaxed.

She didn't notice the way Rachel stiffened as she started caressing her hand. Quinn's mind wandered away to comfortable evenings with Rachel and the game night they would be having later. They still weren't talking very much but it was fun, playing those games. It made her feel like a part of the family. While Quinn lost herself in thought, Rachel watched her.

Rachel had no idea how she felt about finding out that Quinn had slept with both Brittany and Santana. Simultaneously.

What little she had figured out was that she was furious. Angry that Quinn had kept this from her and she had to find out from Santana of all people. Mad that someone had stolen being Quinn's first woman away from her. If she were completely honest, she would admit to jealousy. If she were to look too deeply, she would find herself aroused.

And then guilty and frustrated because she wasn't sure what she was more jealous of: that Quinn had slept with two other women before her, or that she was finding herself in an increasingly complicated relationship with Quinn that would probably end up with her only ever having experienced sex with one woman. And technically, it wasn't right for her to feel jealous, since they hadn't really defined or moved forward in their relationship anyway.

It frightened her how utterly final everything felt. Quinn was the one. She could sense it more definitively every day, but she wanted to experience more. And Quinn had so many issues to get through before she could – or should - settle down.

Which was why Rachel decided not to say anything stupid; Quinn really didn't need someone accusing her of having a threesome with her two female former friends. It would have been cruel and foolish on Rachel's part. She made a mental note to ask Brittany for the truth the next time she saw her alone.

Santana could have been bullshitting her. The look on her face had been so intense that Rachel had gotten sucked in. Shock could have easily clouded Rachel's judgement and made her perceive honesty where there had been none. It was just such a convoluted story that it had taken her aback. Former head Cheerio, Celibacy Club president Quinn Fabray had a threesome with her two best friends?

Rachel let herself smirk a little before she entwined their fingers and tugged Quinn down beside her so they could cuddle.

The idea was ludicrous. But she was Rachel Berry, too neurotic to simply let it go, so she would make sure of it with Brittany.


"Oh Brittany... your grammar is all over the place..."

"Yeah, I know..."

Rachel fought the urge to tear her hair out. Things were not going according to plan.

A few days previous, she had offered to help Brittany work on her essay on global warming for their World Issues class, hoping to find a way to talk to her about what Santana had said.

She had picked the most secluded corner of the public library to talk to Brittany, which seemed to confuse her momentarily, but before Rachel could ask Brittany had simply shrugged and taken her seat at the table. Rachel had hoped to spend about ten minutes or so looking over the paper and then find a way to talk to Britt about Santana. But ten minutes ended up being an hour.

"Brittany! You can't just say it's getting warmer." She tried to keep her voice lower. "Seriously. You wrote five pages without any proper citation or mention of scientific study."

Her anal-retentiveness was hit hard and Rachel found herself signing out several books on Brittany's behalf – because she didn't have her own library card – and started outlining Brittany's arguments.

For the most part, Brittany sat there looking pretty and nodding at everything Rachel said.

"Okay... let's take a break." Rachel sighed wearily.

"Sorry. If I knew we were actually going to like, write stuff up, I would have worked a little harder." Brittany murmured, playing with her hair serenely. Rachel's left eye twitched dangerously.

"Brittany." She started slowly, the strain obvious in her voice. "I said we were going to the library. To edit. To work. What exactly did you think we were going to be doing?"

"Oh." She smirked at Rachel. "Well you said we'd find a quiet spot in the library. Where, like, no one would bother us. And then you took us here where the librarians can't see us. This is a make out spot." She watched as Rachel turned an awful red colour. Reaching out to brush her fingers over Rachel's cheek, which made her flinch, Brittany frowned in worry. "Are you okay? You're really warm. You might have a fever or something."

"I'm fine." She couldn't stop the little shake in her voice. Brittany had given her the distinct impression that she had thought they were going to be making out. And that Brittany was okay with that. It wasn't easy making Rachel dumbfounded but somehow it had happened twice in one week.

"So like... we're taking a break now. Did you wanna go somewhere? Or we could stay here." Brittany shifted forward in her seat, her lean frame sneaking in a little closer to Rachel's jittery one.

"Uhhh... let's – let's go somewhere." Rachel was sure it was bad for her complexion to be that red for so long. She let out an odd, forced chuckle as she got up from her seat a little too quickly, knocking the chair over. While Rachel struggled, Brittany calmly picked up the chair as she got up and put her things away.

"There's that coffee place outside. I should probably have some if we're actually going to study."

"Hahahaha, yes, study."

By the time they made it to the cafe Rachel had calmed down considerably. Brittany was a weird girl so Rachel dismissed the weird conversation, deciding that they had simply misunderstood one another.

With their coffees and a biscuit for Rachel, they sat across from one another, Brittany watching traffic and Rachel marvelling at how relaxed the other girl was.

"So... how have you been?"

"Umm... not so good." Brittany turned to her coffee and stirred it lazily.

"What's wrong?" It felt weird talking to Brittany outside of Glee Club. They were normally on polar opposites of the social spectrum. But now, with Quinn's influence, Rachel was both outside of social circles and above them. Her status was elevated yet still separate.

"Well, I had a fight with Santana."

Rachel perked up immediately.

"What did Santana do?"

"She's pissed off that I didn't tell her you and Quinn were together before she slushied you."

"You – you knew about that? I mean... we're not exactly together..." Rachel gaped, shaking her head. "Well, why didn't you tell her?"

"Because... it's like... complicated. Basically, if she knew about you guys she would have done stuff to you but tried not to get caught. I don't like her without Quinn."

"Umm… what?" Rachel was beginning to wonder why she had ever thought she could have a coherent conversation with Brittany.

"You can't say anything to anyone." She waited for Rachel to nod. "Santana likes being a bitch. Likes it a lot."

"No kidding..." Rachel tried to joke, sobering up at Brittany's look.

"She's not really that bad a person; it's just really hard for her to like anyone. And she has, like, issues, about being in charge. She wants to be the one who controls stuff. But she's not cut out for it. She forgets herself. Becomes really mean. A lot more mean than she should. If I told her 'bout you and Quinn, she would have been sooooo mean."

"So... you were protecting me?"

At that Brittany laughed a little.

"You're okay, Rachel, but no. I did it to protect Santana."

"Santana? But she's always in trouble now isn't she?"

"Yeah..." Brittany's face fell. "Quinn had always been so good at keeping Santana like..."

"In check?"

"Yeah! I just needed Quinn to step up again. I figured if Santana pissed her off enough, Quinn would step in and take control again. I just... I didn't expect her to be so mad. You make Quinn forget herself. I think she's also been mad for so long that she's kinda going crazy."

"H – how bad? I mean I knew people were throwing slushies and calling her names..."

"I haven't been talking to her all that much lately since she's pissed but..." she trailed off, looking out the window. "She hasn't been in school for like three days now. I heard the basketball team beat her up and tossed her around in a Porta-Potty."

"Beat her up?!" She winced as everyone in the cafe looked in her direction. "They did not beat her up. You can't be serious." Her voice lowered.

"Yeah, I don't see them beating her up. I mean there was probably some fighting though. Santana would never go without a fight. I kinda believe the Porta-Potty thing. Those cleaning people had to come in and fix it."

"Well..." Rachel gritted her teeth. "It's not as if she wouldn't have laughed her butt off if it had happened to someone else."

"True. But then... I would have laughed a while ago. So would have Quinn. She might've laughed now already."

"She doesn't care about who she hurts." It upset Rachel, knowing how comfortable Quinn would have been allowing such a thing to happen to her only a year ago.

"She does too care." Brittany finished off her coffee. "But she only cares about those who matter to her. I'm not saying she's like... Buddha or something... but I think Quinn is going too far."

"She... she probably doesn't know what's happening."

Brittany didn't say anything at first, just watched Rachel. It almost disturbed her, like those blue eyes were observing something within her that she didn't want noticed.

"You picked the right one."


"Finn is the hottest guy in school. But he's got no balls. I mean really, if you wanted power, Quinn was the way to go. And you got her good. You got her where it counts. Forever, probably." She grabbed Rachel's hand. "I'm glad you're together. But Santana's mine. I love her. It hurts me when she hurts. So talk to Quinn for me, get her to talk to Santana. 'Cause seriously, I'm getting pissed off. I didn't get to be one of the top three girls because they needed another blonde."

The little smile on Brittany's face made her skin crawl.

"Uhh... I'll see what I can do."

"Okay. Cool." Her smile widened to her more genuine 'Brittany the Lovable' expression. She let go of Rachel's hand, which darted under the safety of the table even though she hadn't been squeezing it in any way. "So what did you really come here for?"

"I-I-I what?" She sputtered nervously, still reeling from the weird version of Brittany she had met not two minutes ago.

"Well you didn't wanna make out with me. And you weren't concentrating so much when you were showing me how to do my work. I thought you'd, like... have written instructions or something."

"Oh... yes." Rachel flushed, not sure how to respond. "Well it was just... Santana said... I mean it doesn't matter I guess. She was just trying to mess with my head I think."

"What'd she say?"

"She just... she said that you..." Rachel laughed so hard it almost came out as braying. "You and Santana had slept with Quinn." She chuckled a little, her face still red.

"You mean like... sleepovers or sex?"


"Oh. That was a while ago."

Dead silence.

"So you did. Have sex. With Quinn."

"Yeah. One time thing. It was kinda hot."

"Hot?!" She accidentally kicked her bag over. Bringing her voice down to a whisper so people would stop taking notice of them, she leaned forward. "You can't be serious. You had a threesome with Quinn and Santana. You expect me to believe that."

"I don't know..." Brittany leaned in too, making Rachel nervous. "You don't have to believe it. I don't think even Quinn believes it. But it was hot. I mean it would have been even hotter if she knew herself better that night. You know, she's more of a bottom than a top. That night she kinda fought to be the top but was scared. It was sweet. Santana is an all out top. I think that's why they didn't end up killing each other. I'm kinda jealous, I think Santana liked her taste more than mine."

Brittany pouted and talked as if she were discussing the weather, not Quinn's sex life. Rachel felt a little dizzy and found herself staring at Brittany's lips.

"I think I should go." She managed to blurt out.

"Okay, Rachel." Brittany stood up with her. "I hope you'll still help me with my paper."

"Really?" Rachel scoffed, her indignation quick to cover for her mortification. "You just tell me you orchestrated this convoluted plan to basically make Quinn back into the bitch she was a year ago just so your relationship issues with Santana can be-" She choked on her words when Brittany abruptly captured her in a hug.

"I'm sorry Rachel. I didn't want Quinn to be a bitch. I want her happy too. I think you and I need to work to make both our girls happy. So stop being mad at me so much, okay?" She leaned back, her arms still wrapped around the smaller girl. "Santana and Quinn need to talk too. I think we can fix things if you want."

There was no doubt in her mind that having so much blood situated in her head for an hour had done some permanent damage. Brittany's warm body was doing inappropriate things to her own and their faces were too close. Several people were watching with interest but Rachel couldn't bring herself to care.

"I'll.... I'll talk to Quinn." She managed to say, slowly, trying not to focus on Brittany's breath on her face. It smelled minty.

"Awesome!" She gave Rachel another squeeze before she fumbled in her bag for a pen. Rachel groaned when the girl tore off a sheet of her library book. "Here's my number. We should talk more about how to do this. Santana and Quinn are like, really high maintenance."

"Sure..." She stuffed the note in her pocket as they made their way out.

"Oh and you know, we could like, meet up at the library to work things out. I'll try and get more of my paper done before we meet up." She cast Rachel one last look before she turned toward where she parked her car. "We could do a lot of things at the library."


Rachel watched as Brittany walked off. She had no idea what had just happened.


Quinn and Rachel had learned a lot about each other, far too much in such a short time span. Eventually, after a few really loud arguments, Quinn started seeing a therapist. It was only because Rachel's fathers had noticed the sudden tension in the house and Leroy had accidently walked in on one of their epic rages.

Quinn wasn't ready to tell him everything but Leroy quickly gleaned that she had issues. It wasn't much of a surprise to him. You don't just end up homeless, give birth, give away the baby and walk around well adjusted. So he talked to Quinn individually. Rachel brought up way too many emotions for her to remain collected.

In their discussion he asked her if she might want to seek help. She told him she didn't want any.

"You know Quinn... I won't force you to do anything. You've been through a lot. I was just wondering if maybe you'd be willing to go for one session. Just to see how it goes. You know I don't give a crap about the money. You can pay me back when you're rich and useful."

She had laughed, relaxed, and gone to a session. Then she went to many more sessions. Slowly, she was growing to feel better about herself.

"Quinn, you've got to call things off on Santana."

She turned off her iPod, her thoughts jerking to the present. Quinn sat up from her position on the shed's roof. Rachel's fathers didn't approve of her climbing on top of it, said it was too dangerous, but Quinn found some comfort in it, especially at night when she could just barely make out the stars in the sky.

"You should also be inside studying. The exam next Tuesday is supposed to be difficult. And you know climbing up the shed is prohibited."

Quinn turned on her side and peered at Rachel.

"Okay... First, I'm not doing anything to Santana. Second, I've studied enough for today, mother. Third, I know, his exams are always hard. Lastly, it's only like three meters tall. For Christ's sake Rachel I used to be a cheerleader, I was leaping ten feet in the air."

"You had a threesome with Santana and Brittany."

Rachel was a little miffed that the darkness hid Quinn's expression. After all the random attacks on her sanity in the past few days, she really wished someone else could suffer the smackdown of a powerful revelation. But she couldn't make out Quinn's expression. If she hadn't been so damn flustered after her meeting with Brittany she would have planned this out better so she could squeeze out the drama.

"Santana told you this." Quinn appeared calm, her voice level.

"And Brittany." She paused. "Brittany is kind of strange."

At that Quinn let herself sit up and dangle her legs over the edge. She jumped down easily and fluidly, making Rachel's mouth water unconsciously. It was hard, keeping her hands to herself or her thoughts in order when Quinn walked around like a smooth feline.

"It doesn't matter what we did. It was nothing. We were stupid."

"Were you drunk?" Rachel was actually surprised Quinn was being so candid. She figured the therapy must have done something.

"No.... not drunk." Quinn played with the cord connected to her headphones. She sat down on the grass and leaned up against the shed wall. Rachel followed suit next to her.

"So... what... exactly... happened?"

"Rachel..." she laughed a little. "Are you shy? I never thought I'd see you shy."

"Well I don't really know what we are... together or not. I'm... I'm confused."

"I see that..." Quinn smiled and decided to cut Rachel a break. "Basically I woke up in the middle of the night – we were sleeping over at Brittany's, the three of us – and they were going at it right next to me."

"WHAT?! Are you kidding? They were fornicating right there?"

"Doesn't fornicating mean sex for the purpose of making babies? I don't think they can do that. Your vocabulary is slacking." She clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth in amusement.

"Oh honestly, you know this is making me all... all weird..." She paused, her mind working overtime. "And you're wrong. Fornicating is about people having sex outside of marriage. Generally focusing on members of the opposite sex though. Stop trying to distract me!"

Quinn laughed loudly, which made Rachel smile.

"Anyway... yeah they were having sex. I think Brittany noticed I was awake but didn't say anything. But when it was Santana's turn...."

"Oh my God..."

"Yes... it was Santana's turn. Brittany told her they should move to another room so I wouldn't be disturbed. Santana got pissed off.... I'm not exactly sure how we all started having sex... but yeah. We had sex. And I... haven't mentioned it to anyone before. Except my therapist. And you, now."

"You never talked about it to anyone?"


"That must have been difficult."

Quinn shrugged. She didn't know how to explain to Rachel that really it wasn't all that difficult for her. People were remarkably adept at smothering their memories. It was why a lot of that night was still a blur to her. She couldn't remember her motivations or theirs.

"So like... Santana did stuff to you. And Brittany did stuff to you."

"Yeah..." she frowned, confused by Rachel's struggle to articulate herself. It wasn't normal for her to babble like that.

"So they did everything to you. You didn't do anything to them?"

"Well... no... They'd been doing it for a while, and I didn't have any experience. So they did most of the stuff to me."

"Oh..." Rachel felt like she was boiling in her clothes. "What... what did they do to you?"

"Santana..." she froze. "Oh my God. You're getting off on this?" Quinn burst out laughing as Rachel stuttered.

"Well – it's perfectly normal... I mean... you know... It's just – I..."

"Oh God..." She stopped giggling to catch her breath. "That's just hilarious. You little perv..." She smiled affectionately.

"Heh... yeah..." Rachel managed weakly.

"Santana.... she gave me head. And used her hands. Brittany was mainly focused on my upper half... so to speak..." Quinn smirked a little at Rachel's flustered gawking. "I think Brittany also went down on me at one point too. I came. They had sex. Then I ordered them to never speak of it again. And I went to sleep."

She shrugged like it was nothing, when just a while back it gave her heartburn just thinking about it.


"Yeah..." she got up and wiped her pants for grass stains.

"Where are you going?" Rachel got up a little slower, feeling dizzy.

"Ummm…back home. I need sleep."

"What about Santana?"

"What about Santana?"

"You need to talk to her. I also want you to stop all this."

"I'm not doing anything." Quinn's words were curt and smug.

"Quinn I'm not stupid. She's being tortured...."

"Oh please, as if you didn't like it!" Quinn snapped, feeling attacked. "She was a royal bitch to me all this time and then she just... fucked you over like that. She did it in front of me just to hurt me. Well you know what? She's getting what she deserves. I don't tell them a damn thing. They do whatever they want to her."

Rachel gritted her teeth. It was true, the way Quinn went into possessive and protective mode the instant their relationship changed... she had liked it. It was also exhilarating, watching everyone fall over themselves over her. Boys and girls that had scorned her in the past were practically salivating at a chance to earn a glimpse from her. It was a little uncomfortable. She owned the school through Quinn. In the end, Glee had jumped the social ladder because of Quinn and not its own merit. People wanted Rachel because they wanted Quinn.

Hey Rachel, are those books too heavy for you? Rachel there's a party next week, you're coming right? Rache is that guy bothering you? Rachel, you've got to come with me to the mall tomorrow, I need to find a dress, ask if Quinn can make it alright?

Santana had pissed Quinn off by hurting Rachel. The school learned this with daunting speed. Quinn had come back with a vengeance and no mercy. People could taste the new rage. And Brittany was right, the malice was unprecedented.

"Quinn... I-I like you a lot. You're right. She's not a nice person and I did like it...." She reached out and ran her finger tips over the Quinn's brow. "But I don't like it anymore... it kind of scares me now."

She left Quinn in the backyard, hoping that she would make things right.


A week and a half later Quinn found herself lonely and struggling to figure out what she should do. She knew, by the way her heart nearly imploded at the thought of scaring Rachel, that there was no way she wasn't going to comply. It was torture, Rachel ignoring her and hanging out with Brittany. But her ego and pride were at stake. She also took a lot of pleasure slowly destroying Santana.

In therapy, she had discussed her sadistic tendencies. It was only after Rachel had ordered her to stop everything that she brought up what she was doing to Santana during a session. Watching Santana come back to school every day looking more worn and deadened... it made her feel good. Her therapist suggested that it wasn't so much sadism – because she really had never gone this far before or had felt this good – than the fact that Santana personified the woman Quinn had tried to become. Quinn wore the mask; Santana was the mask she tried to put on.

So in a way, it was her own form of demented self-mutilation – though her therapist would argue that the term was inappropriate. She didn't like learning about this aspect of herself but he had assured her this was progress. What she did to Santana had to stop, and he told her it was guilt that made her reluctant to do so. She wanted to destroy her mask.

But Santana wasn't a mask. She was a human being. And Quinn really looked at her now, taking note of the sluggish way Santana moved, the furious movement of her fearful eyes, and the lack of the spark she used to have. Rachel was right to be scared and Quinn didn't know what she had been thinking.

Rachel had never been subject to such cruelty. Quinn had been encouraging them all, planting seeds of poison everywhere she went, so Santana would feel pain.

It wasn't in her to do this. She would regret it, horribly, when she finally broke Santana the way she had never broken any other human before. As the popular bitch she had always been an indirect cause of people breaking down. She upheld the system. This was the only time she had ever actively singled someone out so accurately. Part of her had always gone soft on Rachel, even during her meanest streak, because Rachel was her ideal. The woman who was so much stronger than herself.

She saw Santana as weak. Her weakness. Santana couldn't even properly rein in the school. It just added to Quinn's disgust. But she had to stop.

She just didn't know how. Well, that wasn't true. The social hierarchy was a fickle bitch. She could easily save Santana. Hell, if she wanted to she could bring her right back to her former position. Rumours would take care of why Santana had been yo-yoed to and fro. But what to do with her afterward? Santana would plot and hate and try to stab Quinn in the back. She was too tired for that crap. It would have been simpler – short term – to just break the woman now then have to fight her constantly until they moved the hell away from one another.

She would have to bargain with her.

Quinn blatantly slipped a note into Santana's textbook during class so the girl would be aware of it. Santana barely lifted her head.


She wasn't sure why she was at a park waiting for Quinn Fabray. After all, it could be some horrible plan to fuck her over. But at that point Santana was desperate, hoping that Quinn would never want to get her hands dirty so directly as to trick her. Besides, it was an open, public place in the middle of the afternoon. In the very least, Santana had a fighting chance, even if the place was empty on a Thursday.

"Hello Lopez."

Santana instinctively flinched, waiting for whatever was about to befall her. Quinn sat down next to her.

"I'm here to talk."

"What do you want, Fabray?" She didn't even have it in her to throw an insult. Half of her was afraid of the consequences. Quinn had really left her mark.

"You screwed things up with Rachel. She knows about that... thing we did."

"Good." She managed to smirk a little, though her voice shook a bit.

"Yes... good for you. She also wants me to stop torturing you."

Santana stayed silent, figuring it was too good to be true.

"But you and I both know it's not that simple."

"I hate you." The venom was thick in her voice and she finally looked at Quinn. She was no longer emaciated, her soft blonde hair was voluptuous and her lips were full. Those hazel eyes had become sharp and alert where they had once been dull. Quinn was back.

"I know." She frowned. "I don't know if I hate you."

"Right." Santana scoffed.

"No, really... I mean we say things like that all the time but I'm not sure if I'd be honest telling you I hated you. You're... what I always thought I wanted to be." Quinn silently cursed her therapist for making her more open. But then she knew it wasn't just opening up. She had already calculated the risk and Santana wouldn't be able to use any of this against her. It was too obscure and ridiculous for anyone to take seriously. Santana included.

"Is there a point to all this bullshit you're feeding me?"

"Yeah. I've got no motivation for breaking you. Rachel is fine. No one is going to touch her. You're not going to touch her."

"How do you know that?"

"You know..." Quinn smiled, her eyes going distant. "When we first met... what was it... grade two?"

"Grade three..."

"Yeah. I thought you were so cool." Quinn laughed at the memory while Santana's jaw dropped open. She quickly snapped her mouth shut, embarrassed.

"I wasn't aware the almighty Queen Fabray could find anyone cooler than herself."

"Never said I thought you were cooler than me." But she smirked, playing with the hem of her shirt. "But yeah, I did. You like, beat up that boy. Can't remember his name. He was two grades above us."

"Skeezy Scott Handle."

"Oh Lord... yes him. You beat him up good. Even as a kid you had the biggest balls in school."

Santana managed to keep the smile off her face. Quinn was being weirdly affectionate. Their friendship was never that close – except for Santana popping her cherry.

"I'm willing to call truce, Santana. I never even wanted to get back into all this. I wouldn't have if you didn't humiliate Rachel so bad."

"So... I can go back to being head bitch in charge?" Santana cursed herself for even asking.

"Oh no... you're never going to get that back." There was a mischievous glint in Quinn's eye. "Your balls are too big for you. Can't trust you to control yourself. But I tell you what; you can go back to being my bitch like before." At Santana's scowl, she raised an eyebrow. "I'm still pissed at you for what you did. I may not hate you but I don't like you either. That I'm even offering you this much is a gift."

Quinn got up from the bench and adjusted her jacket.

"You're not just offering me some gift Fabray, I'm no idiot."

"Oh, I've got plans." She smirked. "I'm holding you responsible for anything that happens to Rachel from this point on. Believe me when I say if there's ever a next time, I'm going to fully fuck you over."

With a little wave, Quinn walked away. If Santana was truly honest with herself, Quinn had finally earned her respect. She had fought Quinn on even grounds and lost. She didn't even have the urge to seek revenge. Besides, Quinn would just take her down if she ever tried.

Santana would never be honest with herself enough to admit that Quinn was kind of hot when she was on top.


When Quinn came home that day she was flushed with excitement. She had done what was asked of her. Rachel would stop the silent treatment and maybe they could hang out a bit. She had been wondering how to approach their relationship. The intimacy and intensity of their first time together had freaked her out the next morning. But as time went by and her therapy continued, she had started relaxing more.

Rachel made her feel safe; there was no need to be afraid of that. Quinn had also become more independent and healthy. Her therapist had told her a while back that she would know when she was ready and how much. She was certain that she was well past the hand holding and cuddling stage. Maybe she wasn't ready for sex with Rachel again, the emotional component was still too raw, but she wanted to go on dates. Kiss a little. Start off small and work their way up.

But Rachel wasn't home, which was odd. Hiram told her that Rachel was off at Brittany's.

Sighing to herself, she went to her room and cracked open a textbook. As time went by she started to get a little anxious. It wasn't like Rachel to stay out so late. Quinn heard her come home around midnight and go straight to her own bedroom without saying anything.

Instinct told her something bad had happened. She apprehensively made her way to Rachel's room and knocked. A soft voice told her to come in.

Rachel was digging through her dresser for a change of clothes. She wouldn't look at Quinn.

"Hey... I uhh... talked to Santana." Rachel didn't look up. Quinn could smell Brittany on her. "I've also come up with a way to get everyone to stop harassing her without making myself look like a total spaz."

"Oh. That's great." Rachel laid out the clothes on her bed without looking at Quinn.

"Yeah." Quinn squirmed where she stood, sensing the tension. "Are you alright?"

Rachel stopped moving.


"What happened?"

"I...." She could hear Rachel swallow before she turned to look at Quinn. "I kind of... I ended up... getting intimate with Brittany."

If anyone had asked Quinn how she felt upon hearing those words, she really wouldn't have known how to reply. The shock made her emotionless.


Rachel knew the statement didn't need repeating.

"I'm sorry."

"You slept. With Brittany."

"It's not like that. I just..."

"Slept with Brittany. While I was out doing whatever the fuck you wanted from me." Her composure slipped. Her anger was sickening. Rachel cringed.

"I don't know what to say."

"I stayed up for you. Worried." Rachel's face fell and a sheen of tears made her eyes glow. It pissed Quinn off even more. How dare she cry?

"I-I'm sorry. But I don't even know what we are togeth-"

"Oh fuck you! You wouldn't feel so goddamn guilty if we didn't mean something! What the hell, Man-hands?!"

"Quinn." Quinn faltered as the nickname brought back some of Rachel's strength. "I said I was sorry. We're both dealing with emotional and relationship issues! You know our time together means a lot to me – Quinn!"

She turned around abruptly and left the room, left Rachel to blather on about their 'issues' and was almost out the front door when Rachel grabbed her arm.

"Quinn..." she whispered, so as not to awaken her fathers. "I've never been with anyone before; we are too young to settle down so quickly."

Quinn tried to tug her arm away, but Rachel's grip was too firm. The pleading tone in Rachel's voice was tearing apart her resolve and anger.

"I care about you so much, I really do! Believe me, I would do a lot for you. The things you've been through and how you've changed.... I didn't mean to hurt you, that's why I was so honest about it... Brittany is our friend; she wouldn't want to hurt you either. We should talk about this. Please Quinn, we need to talk about what we want and need from each other..."

Quinn softened, unable to ignore the voice that could caress her more intimately than a hand possibly could. And that's when a peculiar scent reached her brain and she looked at the hand wrapped around her bicep. Bile rose in her throat and her eyes flashed so dangerously Rachel froze.

"Get your cunt reeking hand the fuck off me you freak." Her tone was low and cutting. Rachel released her immediately and Quinn walked out of the door. She tapped into her inner bitch and slapped her mask back on so hard and fast she felt a little dazed. Rachel's voice was lost to her, she was unable to hear anything but the rage pulsing through her blood.

She made it three blocks before she realised she had nowhere to go and it was nearly one in the morning. She popped open her cell phone and dialed a number by heart.

"Yeah? Who the hell is calling this late?" The voice on the other end of the phone sounded groggy.

"Santana, you get in your fucking car and you pick me up NOW. Do you hear me?!" She was almost hysterical. Going back into Rachel's house was not an option.

Santana, half drunk and half asleep, sobered up at Quinn's commanding voice. It was amazing how quickly she stepped back into her role as Quinn's number two. It was just natural for them.

"Okay. Where you at?"


Somehow, even drunk, Santana managed to get them back to her place in one piece without getting caught by the cops. Quinn had refused to speak during the ride so Santana was feeling pretty bitchy by the time they got to her house. Patience was not her forte.

Santana's room was a bit of a mess. Clothes were strewn about and one tiny lamp was all that gave the room any lighting.

Santana lasted long enough to close the door of her bedroom but before Quinn could so much as sit on the tiny twin bed the Latina rounded on her.

"You want to tell me what the hell is going on now? I mean seriously, seeing you once a day is painful enough but calling me up at one in the morning? You can call me your bitch all you want Fabray but I have my limits. I am not a dog at your beck –"

"Rachel and Brittany fucked each other."

"-and... call... what?"

If Quinn weren't so pissed at that moment she would have laughed at the stunned look on Santana's face. It was almost cute, the way her mouth hung open and her eyebrows rose.

"They had sex together."

"Oh." Santana frowned. "Eww."

Quinn blinked a few times, her anger dissipating.

"Eww? Your girlfriend just slept with my... Rachel. And all you can say is 'eww'?"

"Well... I guess Rachel isn't that bad. I mean, okay, she can be kinda hot sometimes. If she wasn't so obnoxious and had better fashion sense..."

"You... wait... what are you talking about?" Quinn felt struck by sudden vertigo. Santana wasn't half as enraged as Quinn thought she would be. "Your girlfriend cheated on you."

"Cheat?" Santana scoffed. "No, we're not like that. We can see other people." Her face fell a little. "Just like... it's been a while since we saw each other. Bitch screwed me over."

"I'm missing something. A lot of something." Quinn rubbed her temples.

"Britt knew you guys were together and let me slushie Rachel."

"What?!" Her head jerked up violently.

"Yeah." Santana sat down next to Quinn. "Said she thought I would figure it out. But even when I didn't, she let me slushie her."

"Why would she do that?"

"I don't know... some bullshit." She smirked a little. "Said I needed you."

"So you just let Brittany fuck around."

"I don't let her do anything. We sleep together, we sleep with other people, and everything is fine. We always come back to each other."

"I see." Quinn's hurt, anger and jealousy resurfaced in an instant. "Your slut of a girlfriend put ideas into Rachel's head."

"Watch it." Santana stiffened.

Quinn ignored the warning.

"That a retard like Britt managed to convince Rachel –" she grunted as she suddenly found herself flat on her back on the floor, Santana hovering over her.

"I don't give a fuck what you say or do to me. Leave Brittany out of it." Santana's knuckles were white from clenching themselves in fists.

"Leave her out of it? She brought herself in! I know you're obsessively protective of your slow girlfriend but she's not going to come out of this all rainbows and sunshine. Bitch needs to learn a lesson."

Santana's dark eyes flashed and it was Quinn's only warning before Santana suddenly leapt on top of her, straddling her. Quinn tried to cry out but Santana shoved her fist into her mouth to keep her from waking up the house. She bit into Santana's hand as hard as she could and earned herself a deep punch in the stomach. Quinn's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she groaned pitifully.

"I told you to shut the fuck up about her!" Santana snarled. "Just because you couldn't keep your lunatic girlfriend from spreading her legs isn't her fault! Ah!" She tried to keep herself from being too loud as Quinn grabbed at her ponytail and jerked her head to the side.

Quinn flipped them over so she was on top and yanked her head back to get Santana's hand out of her mouth. The taste of blood in her mouth disgusted her but before she could think clearly Santana slapped her hard across the face.

"Ahhhh fuck..." she hissed as her cheek burned. She looked down to see Santana smirking up at her. Quinn bared her teeth and punched Santana in the gut. It wasn't nearly as effective as when Santana did it to her.

"Fabray, you really need to work on your upper body." With that, Santana wrapped her thighs tight around Quinn's waist, squeezing hard. Quinn groaned. "You're out of shape, Cheerio."

Quinn glared at Santana through her pain. Her damn legs were like steel. She had no leverage to win this. Socially, Quinn could take Santana down, but a one-on-one fight was not Quinn's style. Santana was the fighter.

So she did what little she could, leaning over to bury her fingers into Santana's hair and pulling hard, making her pony tail come undone. Santana moaned and although her own hands were free, she merely used her hands to flip them over once more.

"Remember this you stupid cunt?"

Quinn froze, realising Santana was way too close to her face. Those legs loosened but were still on either side of her. Images of the past flashed in her mind. Then Rachel. Anger flooded her mind.

"Yeah I remember. Think you'll be as obedient this time around?"

The rage in Santana's eyes startled her but then, Quinn had been her tormentor for the past few months. Santana had had to walk home covered in shit, blood and piss because of her.

"Let go of my hair." Her right hand gripped Quinn's jaw hard, pressing her head into the floor. When Quinn refused to comply, she reached down with her other hand and pressed her ramrod fingers into Quinn's stomach.

The hands in her hair loosened. They spent a good ten minutes fighting each other as they stripped one another of their clothes. Quinn ended up with more bruises and Santana had an angry bite mark above her breast. When they were both naked, Santana somehow moved them onto the small bed.

The battle continued. Lips were bruised with vicious kisses, Santana's back was clawed, and Quinn's hips were left with dark imprints of Santana's touch. And they hadn't even started fucking yet.

Santana groaned when Quinn's fingers wound themselves in her hair again and jerked her up. When she opened her eyes she saw that Quinn was staring at her with an expression she couldn't read. It made her stomach feel weird.

"What is it?" Her voice was hoarse. The grip on her hair tightened. Hard.

"Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me with all you've got." It was almost a sigh.

Santana had never gotten so wet in her entire life. Without a word, she grabbed one of her throw pillows off a nearby chair and shoved it into Quinn's mouth. Quinn adjusted it so more of it fit in her mouth. Santana's mouth watered as Quinn raised her arms above her head and linked them at the wrist.

Three fingers without warning. Quinn was so ready Santana slipped in with ease. She set the rhythm hard and fast, savouring every strangled moan and gasp. As Quinn writhed, Santana had to use her other hand to squeeze Quinn's wrists in place. She slipped in a fourth finger. It was a tighter fit and she needed to move more slowly, to gain momentum. But she ignored the pained noise Quinn made in the back of her throat and kept going.

Eventually Quinn was mewling at her mercy. But it wasn't enough. Quinn wanted all she had. Brittany was never this rough, never wanted it that painful, no one she had been with ever did. Santana let go of Quinn's wrists.

"Hold onto the headboard." Quinn didn't open her eyes, didn't even move, just made a frustrated noise when Santana stopped working her. "I said hold onto the headboard you stupid fuck!" She slapped Quinn again, awakening her from her stupor. Glazed, hazel eyes looked at her dumbly before Quinn grabbed onto the headboard.

Santana situated herself between Quinn's legs, her other hand bracing against Quinn's hip. She stared at Quinn as she pulled out her hand and grabbed some lube from the drawer at her bedside table. As she lathered her hand she watched fear flicker through her eyes but Quinn didn't do anything, just tightened her hold on the wooden headboard.

Three fingers were easy enough; the fourth gave less resistance than before. Santana couldn't tear her eyes away from Quinn's, the two of them staring each other down as Santana pushed forward. Quinn's breathing quickened and she spread her legs wider, trying to relax the muscles in her thighs. Both of them were having difficulty keeping their breaths even as Santana pushed past the knuckles and started edging her thumb in. One birth was not enough to loosen Quinn that much; Santana had to slow herself down to a crawl, pulling in and out at an agonizing pace. Their bodies broke out into a sweat as Santana very slowly pushed in a little more each time, just a little deeper, making Quinn open up for her, until her whole fist fit inside. Quinn was panting so hard Santana waited to make sure the girl didn't pass out.

When Quinn was more composed, Santana decided to stop being so nice. Her impatience came back. She wanted to explore. So she closed her eyes and stretched her hand, ignoring Quinn's choked gasp. It was soft, hot and wet... parts of it were firm, with little ridges. She twisted her hand around, making Quinn cry out sharply through the pillow.

"Shhh...shh shh." She ignored Quinn's whimpering, still mesmerized. Her other hand shifted to Quinn's clit and started stroking slowly while she pushed a little deeper, making the blonde keen a little.

"If you don't stop whining, I'm going to pull out and toss you out on the street."

Quinn tried to limit herself to her breathing, her hands were almost entirely white as she clutched the only thing that kept her grounded to the earth: Santana's headboard. She wasn't sure if Santana would really kick her out. But she was in no frame of mind to think clearly. She hadn't even thought of Rachel since they ended up on the bed. Rachel and Brittany were off somewhere in reality. All that was happening now was Santana.

Her lower half was on fire. A delicious, painfully pleasurable fire that was as punishing as it was cleansing. The bitch she wanted to be was fucking her. She would forgive Santana for being true to herself and being what Quinn had failed to be but could have been great at. She would accept her punishment from Santana, for her failure. And for not having the balls to finish Santana off like she knew Santana would have if their roles were reversed.

Santana started moving faster and Quinn could taste the stuffing of the pillow in her mouth as she squeezed her eyes so tightly that stars danced under her lids. Her breath came out shallow and steady at first as she just focused on feeling so damn full and sopping wet. She could feel the bumps of Santana's knuckles and when Santana twisted her hand a certain way, Quinn couldn't stop the high pitched noise that escaped her. She bucked, making the fist slide within her and she groaned. She couldn't help it, everything was building up and the noise wasn't going to go away.

Santana was out of her mind. She couldn't believe what was happening. The slapping noise of her fist in Quinn was getting louder and faster. She grabbed the edge of a blanket and wrapped it around Quinn's waist to muffle the noise. She wouldn't suffocate her, but she had to stop the noise somehow.

She couldn't help herself; she leaned down under the covers and wrapped her mouth around Quinn's clit, lapping at it with her tongue and relishing the taste as Quinn started moving even faster. Santana stopped moving her hand and just let Quinn ride her. It made her dizzy, how Quinn would speed up, stop, dip her hips low so more of Santana's hand buried into her, then pull up and speed up again. Santana was whimpering into Quinn's sex while Quinn was almost sobbing.

When Quinn finally started moving even faster and Santana could feel her sex wrapping tighter around her fist, trying to hold her in... Santana stretched her hand out as much as she could. She thought it was over, Quinn was going to scream and her mom or brothers were going to run into the room. But Santana had balls and she didn't give a fuck. There was no way she was not going to do this.

Quinn felt the whole world explode. In a moment of brief lucidity she grabbed the pillow over her head and buried her nose in it as she screamed. Santana pulled away from Quinn's clit and grit her teeth as Quinn's walls tightened hard around her fist, fluttering rapidly. Quinn twitched and bucked as she came down off her high, coming just a little every time her muscles spasmed.

Santana slowly slid her hand out, pausing whenever Quinn lurched and jumped. Eventually her coated hand found freedom.

When she got up from under the blanket, she took in the way Quinn looked exhausted and satisfied. She smirked.

"My turn..." she echoed from the past. Quinn raised a lazy eyebrow then slowly sat up, wincing a little.

"How do you want me?" She asked, making something clench deep within Santana. No one would ever know that sometimes, Santana liked to think about the first time they fucked when she touched herself. It was the idea of making Quinn react; making the Queen Fabray her little bitch that got her off. A lot.

"On the floor. On your knees."

Quinn looked at her like it was a tall order to fill; after all, she had just been stretched past her limits. Santana didn't care.

"I wasn't asking." Santana grabbed her by the nape of her neck and yanked her to the floor, grateful that Quinn's agility wasn't subpar. They were really making too much noise. Quinn made a whining noise as she painfully got to her knees, then settled between Santana's legs as Santana sat on the edge of the bed.

"You're gonna eat me." She gasped when Quinn jumped forward eagerly, latching her mouth onto Santana's sex. She watched from above as Quinn's head moved.

"Fffffffuck yes..... yes.... on your hands a... and knees.... shit..." Quinn did as she was told. If Santana hadn't just spent the last half hour fisting her, she would have been able to last longer. But her hand was still lathered up and smelling of Quinn. She could still hear Quinn

How do you want me?

"A-ass up in the air." Quinn adjusted, her back arching. "Moan for me bitch...." Santana could feel Quinn more than she could hear her and within a minute she had fallen back on the bed and was biting through her fist to keep from crying out as Quinn's tongue mercilessly ate away at her while she moaned over and over again.

"Fuck...." She shuddered when it was over. They were panting; Quinn had fallen over on the floor.

"Get up." Quinn made a noise of protest. "I said... get up. Lock the door." Santana watched in amazement as Quinn stumbled to the door and locked it. "Good. Get back over here."

Quinn managed to drag herself back to the bed; Santana had already positioned herself on the right side. When she collapsed in it, smelling of sex and Santana, she felt pretty good.

"What... what now?" Quinn asked, feeling stupid and a little lost.

"What now?" Santana gave her a look. "Now you're my girlfriend. I'll pick you up for dinner on Friday. Then we'll move in together. You're going to propose to me. You're going to want some god awful extravagant spring-summer wedding. But I'm telling you now we're going to elope in Vegas in the winter."

"Why winter?"

"'Cause it's hotter in Vegas."

They both burst out laughing, high off everything they had done. They stayed silent for a while, both of them watching the ceiling.

"I still hate you."

"I still don't like you."

"I don't hate you as much as I used to." Santana amended.

"I like you a little better too."

"Don't think this makes things okay with you and me. You fucked me over big time."

"You're just jealous you didn't think of doing it first."

Santana turned to glare at her but said nothing, making Quinn smile serenely. It was true, Santana wasn't even sure just how pissed off she would be if it were anyone other than her rival who fucked her over.


Quinn shifted on her side, snuggling up into Santana, which didn't feel as uncomfortable as either girl thought it would.

"What do I do about Rachel and Brittany?"

"Well..." Santana paused. "I'm going to patch things up with Britt. She's mine."

Quinn felt an irrational urge to shove Santana off the bed. But really, she had less of a claim to Santana than she did Rachel, and even that claim was in question. So she sighed instead.

"If you've got something good with Rachel, you shouldn't ditch it. Though I'm going to miss fucking you senseless."

Quinn laughed, wincing a little as some of the sore muscles in her body complained.

"How can you miss it, you've only done it twice."

"So you admit I've fucked you senseless." Quinn looked up to see Santana with a huge shit-eating grin on her face.

"Senseless being the key word." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I don't know what to tell you... I don't have this problem. If I want to fuck you, I can. If I want to fuck someone else, I can. Brittany will always be there for me."

"Sounds great for you. I don't think I'm the kind of person who can do that."

Santana nodded a little, her eyes drooping.

"It's not for everyone." Her fingers played with Quinn's hair, making Quinn aware of just how drowsy she was.

"Mmm...guess not.... but I think Rachel wants it.... says we're too young for this."

"You can give it a try... see how it goes...." Santana yawned. "If you need comfort sex... well, go to Brittany."

Quinn stiffened against her.

"I wouldn't go anywhere near her." Her anger, though milder after the orgasm, was still there. Santana chuckled softly.

"You only say that 'cause she's never tried to have you... What Brittany wants, she gets. If you're looking for great comfort sex, go to her.... If you want, like... harder stuff...come to me."

Santana didn't realise Quinn was blushing and feeling confused.

"I think we should go to sleep now," she said, her small voice barely reaching Santana's sleepy ears. She couldn't believe that Santana had just offered her sex on call. And then offered her Brittany, too. It was getting too weird.

"M'kay babe. Sssssssleep time now."

Quinn lay there awake for another hour, wondering just what alternate universe she had landed in where she lay naked in bed with Santana after learning Rachel Berry – social reject – broke her heart by sleeping with Brittany – her normally sweet and wonderful cheerleading friend.

Life was fucked up. In the morning, she would try and sort things out and decide just how pissed off she was going to be. At the moment though, she settled on top of Santana's body, marvelling at the toned muscle that gave way under her. One last thought came up in her mind before she relaxed and Santana sleepily wrapped her arms around her black and blue body.

That was fucking fantastic.