Who: Quinntanna What: Swimming and dinner at the Club to spark their dead friendship. There will be dramz When: Friday evening, August 5th Rating: PGish. :| Language
So far, this whole ‘reunion’ outing at the club was really not going well. For some reason Quinn and Anna kept glaring at each other and making bitchy comments, and Quinn was totally harshing Santana’s tanning buzz by trying to cover her up with a towel. Finally they went inside and after showering (and Santana was still impressed she hadn’t shot too many looks at Quinn in the women’s changing rooms) they were seated at dinner. Once the waiter had taken their orders Santana glared at both of them and raised her eyebrows. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I’m just concerned,” Anna said with a shrug, glancing from Quinn to Santana. “S, have you gone to a doctor or anything? I mean, you know, you have something serious...” She knew that Santana didn’t have any sort of STD because she knew Santana wasn’t that retarded. But it was for her own amusement to bring up the email that Quinn had sent. “Am I going to get it from swimming in a pool with you? Because that would suck.”
Quinn’s eyes widened, though she picked up her glass and took a long drink before clearing her throat. “Santana are you sure you didn’t get burnt from all that tanning? You didn’t wear nearly enough sun screen,” she said in an attempt at distracting the Latina.
Santana narrowed her eyes at Quinn for a moment. “I never burn,” she said dismissively before turning her attention to Anna. “What do I have?”
“I don’t really want to say it out loud here,” Anna said, trying to bite back a laugh. She took a sip of her water, amused by the whole thing. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.” The brunette crossed her legs, linking her ankles.
“Well, I still don’t think you had enough sun screen. I mean, skin cancer is a serious issue. With the o-zone layer depleting as it is, it’s more important than ever to protect your skin,” Quinn said, ignoring what Anna had said.
“Okay, well next time I’ll put more on. You can help me,” Santana said, smirking slightly before continuing on. “No, really, what do I have? You can say it since it sounds like clearly I should already know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I heard from a supposedly reliable source,” Anna paused, looking in Quinn’s direction briefly and then back at Santana, “that you have gonorrhea.” She said the disease in a low voice so only their table could hear. “That’s what the clap is, right? I always confuse it with chlamydia. Both start with ‘c’ or whatever. I dunno, but I’m really worried. It’s not true, right?”
“I will definitely help you with the sunscreen. What is a best friend for after all?” Quinn said, talking over Anna.
Santana raised her eyebrows, obviously confused and pissed off all at once. “Why’d she look at you when she said that, Quinn?” she asked, fixing her gaze on the blonde. “Are you telling people I have the clap?”
“What? I didn’t see her look at me. Why would she look at me? I didn’t even know what the clap was, so why would I be telling people you have it?” Quinn asked quickly, a defiant look on her face.
“Okay,” Santana said, clearly doubtful, before looking back at Anna. “Did Quinn tell you I have the clap?”
As Quinn spoke, Anna rolled her eyes at her avoidance of the topic, and then her lying about it. “Yes, otherwise I wouldn’t have brought it up. Listen, I know you don’t have any sort of disease. I know you’re not retarded enough to mess with someone that does. I just wanna know why she sent me that stupid email.” Her attention was brought back over to Quinn.
“It was a joke, duh,” Quinn said, rolling her eyes back, and moving her napkin from her lap to the table. “I’m going to the bathroom. So...” She trailed off as she stood up, then walked away.
Santana muttered under her breath, “Well, this explains a lot,” then said, “Um, i should go see what the fuck is going on. Sorry.” She got up and followed after Quinn, finding her eventually in the bathroom nearest to the dining room. “Quinn, what the fuck?” she said then, without much preamble.
“Can’t a girl pee in peace around here,” Quinn said from where she was standing in the stall. Not that she actually had to go.
“Not when you’re telling people I have the fucking clap,” Santana said, crossing her arms and standing directly in front of Quinn’s stall (which was weird, but whatever).
“I thought it would be funny. It was just Anna. We used to do this shit all the time,” Quinn said, shrugging, although obviously Santana couldn’t see that.
Santana paced around a bit, her heels making noises on the floor, before stopping abruptly. “Is this why Brittany was talking about ‘bad clapping’ last night?”
“Maybe,” Quinn muttered, ashamed. She felt really bad for saying all that stuff to Brittany, but how else was she supposed to make sure that Santana wouldn’t fall back into bed with her? They were already in love and stuff, so what chance did Quinn even have?
“And why are you saying all that stuff to people? Who else thinks I have the clap? Seriously, Quinn, what the fuck,” Santana continued, pacing again.
“I haven’t told anyone else,” Quinn said, leaning against the side of the stall. “It doesn’t matter. Sorry I fucked up. Just whatever, okay?”
“Let me in your stall,” Santana said suddenly, wanting to talk face to face. “Or come out, whatever. I mean, like. Of the stall.”
“No. These are designated for one person only,” Quinn said stubbornly.
“Then come out of the stall,” Santana said carefully. “You can’t just hide in there forever. I know you aren’t like, in your right mind or whatever right now but you’ll have to come out... of the stall... sooner or later.”
“I like it in here. And I will stay however long I please,” Quinn said, crossing her arms. “And way to basically call me mental. How nice.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve been telling people I have the clap. I think I totally earned one dig at you for--” She stopped abruptly before she went too far, choosing instead to just roll her eyes when Quinn couldn’t see. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing that I can change so I am learning to cope,” Quinn said, biting her lip. It was what Kurt had suggested, and she was generally good at pretending nothing was wrong. Except this whole situation was making her crazy. “So, sorry I told people you have a venereal disease and I understand if you no longer wish to date me.”
“Quinn,” Santana said, trying obviously to be nice. “You’re...” Crazy. “A unique person. And I would still, uh, wish to date you.”
“Well what do you need me for? I mean, you have... Brittany. So, there,” Quinn said, sighing.
“No I don’t,” Santana said immediately, confused. “Is. Is that what this is about? I don’t have anyone besides you.”
“Well you totally can. I mean, you’re not chained to me. And she’s, well, braver than I am. So. You should go get on that,” Quinn said, biting her lip again.
“You’re so frustrating,” Santana snapped, before remembering she was trying to be nice. “I mean... the things that you are saying, they give me stress because I disagree with your worldview. And just... okay, just let me in, okay?”
Maybe Santana would get that this clearly wasn’t going to work if she saw it in Quinn’s eyes or something, so begrudgingly, she pulled back the lock, though made no further move to open the door.
Santana pushed the door in as soon as she heard the lock move. “Quinn,” she said then, pouting unconsciously.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Quinn said, looking down at the floor, clearly ashamed. “I just... I don’t know what’s going on. And I can’t compete with... people. So. Maybe this should stop.”
“Seriously?” Santana asked, torn between a desire to just reach out and hug Quinn and another contrasting one that was centered around just bitching her out. “It’s not like. You like, just dated Finn and I’m not all worrying that you guys are somehow going to get back together.” Except maybe being all accusatory wasn’t a good tactic. “Look, I told her that I just wanted to be friends,” she said after a moment. “And if I didn’t want to be dating you then I wouldn’t be.”
“Brittany never dumped you at a funeral though,” Quinn said, biting her lip and trying to get rid of that feeling where she wanted to cry. “You know that Brittany would do anything for you. She’s in love with you and it’s always been you two. No one ever feels that way about me.”
“Quinn, I told her I just wanted to be friends,” Santana said, almost angrily. “So. If that’s not enough then I don’t know what is because I. I don’t want to be more then friends with anyone else right now except for you and I don’t really get it because it’s very unlike me to feel like that still but I want this with you. And... I don’t know what else to do. I guess that’s all I’ve got.”
“Fine,” Quinn said, not knowing what else to say. There wasn’t any point continuing to argue about it. Because Santana would never get how threatening Brittany was to whatever they were. “Let’s go back out there. I’m sure our food is out. And Anna probably doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. So.”
“Anna can wait,” Santana said, before stepping in closer and suddenly kissing Quinn.
Anna, of course, was sitting by herself, being excluded from whatever the fuck was going on, which made her super irritated because she was trying to be friends with the both of them again and they were off doing their own thing. And who was she to put up with this kind of shit?
She stood from the table and headed to the bathroom, and making sure no one was there, from what she could see, she immediately started talking. “Okay, seriously, fuck you guys. I’m leaving some money on the table for my dinner and then you don’t have to bother talking to me because obviously I’m not worth the time or the fucking friendship.” And that was when she noticed the two sets of feet so close together in the stall and she pursed her lips. She recognized those shoes. Both pairs, actually. “Uh... yeah, bye,” Anna managed to get out before stepping back into the dining room and heading to the table. Just because she caught the two of them standing awkwardly close didn’t mean she had to continue to third-wheel it at this dinner.
Quinn froze as she heard Anna speaking to them. This was so messed up and she and Santana were making out in a bathroom and Anna had just come in there and what had she seen?! What had she heard?! Once the door was shut, Quinn turned to face Santana, wide eyed. “We have to go fix this!”
Santana was just as surprised when she heard Anna addressing them. She backed out of the stall so Quinn could emerge too, then said, “Well, let’s go,” clearly not as panicked as Quinn was.
Quinn led the way back to the table in a frenzied walk. “Sorry, we were just having a discussion and she was trying to go all Lima Heights on me and I was just reminding her that we lived by the golf course and that was that,” she said quickly as they reached the table.
When they reached the table, Anna was in the process of trying to find her stupid wallet that was buried in her huge purse. “Right,” she said cautiously. “Well, um, it doesn’t really matter.” She pulled out her wallet and got her money, setting it on the table. “I’d like to say this was great, but let’s just be honest with ourselves and say that obviously there’s a reason why our friendship faded and just leave it at that.” Tossing her wallet back into her purse, Anna gave a nice wave and started walking toward the exit.
“Because you didn’t want to join cheerleading and we like, went our separate directions down the road of life or whatever,” Santana said, mimicking something she had overheard on one of the telenovelas her parents liked watching. “I mean, I want to be friends. And I’m sure Quinn does too.” She looked at Quinn pointedly.
“Yeah, totally. So. Don’t go and lets finish our meal. Plus, we were totally going to charge it all on Santana’s parent’s membership so you didn’t even need to pay and stuff,” Quinn said, nodding as she spoke, as if that would make this all more convincing.
Anna couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the lameness of Santana’s ‘road of life’ shit. She went back over to the table and sat down, grabbing her money and stuffing it in her purse. “Fine.”
“See? This is nice,” Quinn said, still nodding for some reason. She seriously needed to know what Anna had seen and/or heard but there was no easy way of asking. She couldn’t just ask Anna if she had seem them kissing.
“Yeah, and our food is coming,” Santana said, spotting a waiter approaching. “So. We should just all sit here and eat and talk and stuff.”
After the waiter brought their food and they got settled, Anna ate almost in entire silence, with the exception of a couple nods and short answers that sufficed in continuing the conversation. When there was a lull in the conversation, she cleared her throat. “Listen, I don’t really know what I saw when I went into the bathroom, but I can assume... and if my assumption is correct... Well. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
Quinn tried to keep her face as neutral as possible. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. These crab cakes are really good though. Did you want to try one?”
"I want some," Santana said, genuinely interested in having some of the crab cakes. "They're really good here and I don't know why I ordered a burger instead." She then flashed a smile at Anna, following Quinn's lead (although she was sure that if she said she wasn't going to tell anyone, that she wouldn't, and it was so much easier to just say things instead of keep them in) and trying to play it cool, and asked, "What did you see?"
“No thanks,” Anna said to Quinn, giving her a small smile, before turning to Santana. “Just you guys standing really close to each other, so... like I said, it could really have been anything,” she replied quietly, glad that Santana didn’t just drop the subject. She took her fork and twirled it around her spaghetti.
“Like I said, she was getting all Lima Heights on me,” Quinn said, working on moving some of her food to Santana’s plate.
“Thanks,” Santana said, biting her lip as she traded back with some fries. She knew Quinn wasn’t ready to be out or whatever but Anna basically knew and Quinn was still denying it. And it just kind of... felt weird. Almost like this strange unfamiliar hurting feeling. “Well,” she said then, trying to brush off these feelings. Except either way she didn’t know what to say so she just looked down at her plate instead.
“Alright, well. I won’t tell anyone that you guys were getting ‘Lima Heights’ on each other,” Anna said. “I wish you guys wouldn’t lie to me. We used to be friends for a reason and I’ve never told any of your secrets, or anyone else’s, to be honest, but like I said....” She trailed off and shook her head, taking a bite of her food.
Quinn blinked a few times, trying to recognize the expression on Santana’s face. It seemed … sad? Was it because of her? “Santana...” She said quietly before glancing over at Anna. “I...” Though she didn’t manage to get anything else out and just fell silent.
Santana took a deep breath before running a hand through her hair and flashing a smile at both of them. “I know you wouldn’t tell anyone if people trusted you with something, Anna,” she said, still trying to put on a brave face. She still felt like she wanted to cry, though, which was bullshit, when she added, “Quinn says there’s nothing. And...” Deep breaths, Lopez, you got this. “She’s right.”
Of course, Anna still didn’t believe them. But if they weren’t going to fess up to it, then it was best to just drop it. At least Santana acknowledged that Anna was trustworthy, which gave her a bit of an ego boost. She shrugged. “Okay, if you say so. How are your crab cakes, Queenie?”
Santana had the fakest look on her face and Quinn just felt so guilty, but why should she be pressured into doing something when she wasn’t ready? Except if she really liked Santana she would make herself be ready, right? It was just Anna. Like... ‘just’ in the way that it would be no big deal and stuff. She bit her lip for a moment before putting on a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ expression and saying, “Fine. We were kissing. Whatever.”
“We were?” Santana asked, so caught off guard by this admission that she almost forgot what the hell was even going on. “I mean.” Get it together, Lopez, this is pathetic. “Yeah.” Then, trying to match Quinn’s suddenly flippant attitude: “No big deal. I just like her mouth.” Wait, that might be too much information.
Anna wasn’t at all phased by Quinn’s proclamation, but it was Santana’s infatuation with the blonde’s mouth that made her choke on her food slightly. “Uh...” she wanted to choose her words carefully. “Okay, well... good. Do who you like, like who you do. And their mouths.” She shrugged, smiling at the two of them.
“Santana,” Quinn said, slightly scandalized that she had just said that. “I mean. Whatever and stuff.”
“That was an accident,” Santana said, shrugging. “Saying that. But whatever, it’s true.” She glanced over at Quinn and couldn’t help but smile slightly at her, reaching under the table to put her hand on the blonde’s knee for a moment. “Well, thanks, Anna. That’s legit of you.”
“I’d rather know that you guys were doing that then getting Lima Heights on each other. I don’t even know what that entails.” Anna laughed lightly. “As long as you guys are happy, I mean, you know. Do what you gotta do. I’m guessing you guys are together...?”
“I don’t know,” Quinn said, glancing at Santana. “That’s up to her I guess.” The blonde still wasn’t sure how she felt about Santana telling Brittany she only wanted to be friends. And maybe it was too soon after all that. But Quinn couldn’t really dwell on that right now.
Santana glanced back over at Quinn again. “We’re together,” she said then, carefully. “I mean...” She trailed off then, wondering how to say what she was feeling. “I don’t want to be together with anyone else.”
Anna grinned. “Aw, so cute!” she said, looking at the two of them. “Well, um, congrats? And I’m sorry for calling Santana sexy, Quinn.”
Quinn blushed. “Well sorry for... you know, being a bitch,” she mumbled, looking at Anna first then Santana. “So, now that we have all this out of the way can we, like, finish our meal in peace?”
Santana stopped herself just in time from agreeing that she was very sexy, figuring Quinn probably wouldn’t approve. “Yeah, we should before it gets cold.”