Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lima, Ohio

Quinn Fabray wishes she was an only child. Honestly, she has a lot of wishes relating to her family. If she could have it her way, she wouldn't have any siblings or parents at all. She also wouldn't be any kind of royalty, but she would maybe keep living in the castle.

It's fun to disappear.

So when the time comes for her to blow out the candles on her sixteenth birthday cake, she has several things running through her head, on what to wish for. Her parents are standing above her, smiling for the cameras.

When she can't choose, she decides on world peace.
Basic bitch.

Her sister, and her demon spawn, are having their own separate photoshoot. Quinn hates all of those kids; though she can't really refer to them as kids, when one is two months older than Quinn, but Quinn is technically her aunt.
Her family sucks, and is very confusing.

Quinn's brothers are on her other side, as the journalists and photographers try to arrange them into each individual family.

She feels her mother pat her shoulder.
"Lucy, stop looking around. Straight ahead, and make sure not to smile too wide."
"Yes, mother."

Then the photographer sits down her camera, and beckons Quinn over.
"Okay, can I please have all the siblings here. Keep Princess Lucy in the middle, and Princess Francesca, on the other side. The twins beside her, lovely, and then the other three on Princess Lucy's left."

She hates it when they call her Lucy. It's a stupid name, and she much prefers her middle name; Quinn. So she refers to herself as Quinn, even though nobody else will, apart from Brittany. Her best friend.

"And...smile."

It flashes once more. She can already see the titles that will no doubt appear tomorrow.
'Princess Lucy's Sweet Sixteen'
'Everything you need to know about the Fabray's Youngest Daughter'
'Recreate Princess Lucy's outfit for your prom!'

Yuck. It's not as if they know anything about her. It's all made up, by her mom and the families publicist.

Her sister pulls her over. "Excuse me, can we please have a photo. It's not every day your baby sister turns sixteen!" Francesca calls, her nails digging into Quinn's arm. When the photographer comes over, camera ready, Quinn can only smile, as her sister continues to bore holes in her arm.

There's another headline '22 years has done nothing to break this bond- the two Princesses and their close relationship.'
Lies, lies, and more lies.

Quinn just prays for this part to be over.

Later on, the whole family have retired to one of the drawing rooms, for Quinn to open her presents. All her siblings are still there, and her parents, and all the assorted children. Both sets of her grandparents are dead, because apparently smoking expensive cigars and never doing any exercise is bad for you.

So, Quinn curls up on the armchair in the corner, a well-thumbed copy of The Virgin Suicides in front of her. Over the top, she can see two of her nieces sorting through her birthday presents, and trying on all her new rings and necklaces.

The armchair creaks as her oldest brother, George, sits on the end. Quinn can already smell the alcohol on him, and shifts away.

"So, you're sixteen now." He says.
"Am I? I hadn't noticed." She replies, pretending to be engrossed in the book.
"And you wonder why none of us like spending time with you."
"I thought that was because you're over twenty years older than me, and you have children and actual royal duties. Also, you have a very important online poker addiction, and I wouldn't want to distract from that, in case you actually win any money back."

She raises her eyes off the page, as George grits his teeth. What? It's the truth.
"Stop lying, Lucy. You always were an attention seeker, even though you get more attention that any of us, and you know it."
"That, my dear brother, is because I am technically still a child, whereas you are an adult."
"I seriously hope you don't make it to your seventeenth birthday."
"Me too. Can you please go now, you're blocking out the light."

He storms off, and over to his (very hot) wife. They have four children together, all boys, who are identical to each other, and spend most of the time destroying artefacts and family heirlooms. Quinn often forgets their names.

The oldest cousin, Katrina, makes her way over to Quinn. She's the double of Quinn's oldest sister, which would make sense because she is Francesca's oldest child. The pride and joy of the Fabray family. And Quinn's worst nightmare.

"Having a nice time, Lucy? I love your dress."
"Thanks, Katrina."
"What book is that? Oh. I don't think my mother would let me read that."
"You're probably right, Katrina."
"Did you like your presents?"
"Yes, Katrina."

Katrina is the aforementioned niece, who is two months older than Quinn. She demands that all her 'friends' call her Kitty. This means that Quinn makes a point of calling her Katrina.

Katrina tries talking to Quinn more, but she only receives one-word responses. Sighing, she walks away, and sits with her other cousins.

Now that she's out of the spotlight, and everyone is drinking champagne and/or whisky (it's disgusting), Quinn slowly closes her book, and gets off the armchair. Nobody turns to look.

Backing away, her hand finds the handle for the door half-hidden in the wooden panelling. When she disappears into it, nobody bats an eye.

The stairs are cold, and dark. It's an old servants passage, from before her parents even reigned, but it was abandoned. These kind of passages run all through the castle, and Quinn thinks she had discovered nearly all of them.

Her room is possibly her favourite place in the castle, apart from the library. She was allowed to decorate it herself, and made it into a cosy, warm space, with no clutter or stupid family heirlooms that are 'expensive' but also pretty ugly.

Obviously, it's not really her room. Her parents are king and queen. They would never allow for their daughter, Princess Lucy Fabray, to sleep in the ex-servants quarters. Officially, she sleeps in one of the huge bedrooms on the third floor, with a four-poster bed, canopy, and walk in wardrobe (it's been featured in teen Vogue twice).

But one day, she was in the back of the 'walk in wardrobe' and found a panel that didn't quite fit in with the rest. She pressed on it, and found that it led to a staircase. With only one door at the top.

The rest is history. Her mother figured it out eventually, but couldn't be bothered to force her daughter to change back. So, Quinn has two bedrooms: the fancy, Teen-Vogue worth bedroom that looks like something from Disney, and her smaller, cosy bedroom with candles and bookshelves and a window seat.

Once she's up in her room, and her candles have been lit, she calls Brittany.

Her full title is Lady Susan Brittany Pierce-Van Wouter. She's half-Dutch, and has Britney Spears for a godmother. Quinn often wishes that she was Brittany, since her mother lets her be known as Brittany, rather than Susan.

"Hey, B."
"Quinnie! It's your birthday! How was it?"
"Awful. I'm hiding in my room."
"Aww, that bad?"
"Worse. I don't know why they even bothered showing up today, none of them like me."
"They wanted the media attention. Any loving words from Princess Frannie."
"I managed to leave before she got the chance."
"What a shame. I would come over, but I need to run through my routine one more time. Call Tina; she'll definitely come over."
"Is that okay?"
"Quinn, you're my best friend, and I trust you. Me and Tina know what we're doing, and what our boundaries are."
"Okay. Thanks. Do you want to come over tomorrow? Mother said it's okay."
"I'll be there! Love you lots."
"Love you too."

Quinn hangs up, and texts Tina.

-do u wanna come over
-be there in 5
-come through the back door
-see u there princess x

Tina. Tina, Tina, Tina. Not her best friend, but she's definitely something. Her and Brittany are in love with each other, and have been for a very long time.

Quinn waits, then uses her secret passage to get right down to the bottom. Amongst the ivy and bushes climbing the castle walls, there's a stone door. When Quinn unlocks it, Tina is there.

"Hi Lucy." She whispers in Quinn's ear, her voice sending shivers down Quinn's spine.

Quinn doesn't reply, and instead they run upstairs, the door locked behind them. Only when in Quinn's room, and all doors safely locked, does Tina steps forward and press her lips onto Quinn's.

Time seems to stop and start as they move to the bed; Tina finds the zip to Quinn's dress, and then neither of them seem to breathe as they caress and kiss, gentle and completely loving. Because it's love that Quinn craves, more than anything. For whatever reason, being her childhood, or her feelings of never being enough, she would sell her whole life, for some real love.
~~~
Afterwards, Quinn and Tina lie on the bed, both looking up at the ceiling. They didn't sleep together; Quinn isn't really into that. What they did do, however, was make-out. With a lot of touching.

"So, Princess, still convinced that you're going to marry some cute guy?"
Translation: do you still think you're straight.
"Probably. This, whatever we have, it's not real."
"You say that all the time. What is 'real'?"
"Anything that doesn't exist between two horny teenage girls, who meet up purely to make out and ignore the fact that they are, eventually, going to have to grow up and get married and accept the responsibilities passed down from their parents."
"Interesting. And, are you sure this has nothing to do with your families thinly-veiled hatred for homosexuality and all things rainbow?"

Quinn chooses not to answer. Tina's parents adore her, and her sisters. When she came out as bi, her parents encouraged pride events throughout their nation, and began looking for suitable women, as well as men, for Tina's eventual marriage.

Whereas Quinn's parents have decided that if you're gay, you just haven't met the right person yet. And, of course, the right person will be of the opposite gender. They haven't banned gay marriage, they just make it difficult.

Not that Quinn would ever mention her and Tina's relationship to her mother. God, it would probably kill her. Then her father would be left with a mother-killing, woman-loving daughter.

"I'm only joking. Well, kind of. I'm sure that one day, you'll meet the right person that appreciates your weird tastes in movies and books."
"Guy."
"What?"
"I'll meet the right guy."
"Whatever you say, Princess."

There's a knock at the main door, which is accessible from the actual castle. Nobody knows about the secret passage apart from Quinn.

Quinn's mother calls in.
"Lucy Quinn, please tell me you're not hiding from your own party. And do I hear voices?"
"I'm just on the phone with Tina."
"Please come back downstairs. Your sister wants to make a speech, and then we're having cake."
"I'll be there soon, Mother."

Quinn waits for the footsteps to retreat, before turning to talk to Tina. But she is already sitting up, and pulling her shirt back on.
"D'you need me to fix your hair, princess?" She asks, brushing her own back into place. Quinn nods.

"Thanks. Are you sure that it's okay, us doing this?"
"You mean, is Britt okay with it?"
"Yeah."
"She is. We know our boundaries, and we do a lot of talking. And it's okay, us doing this. We both really care about you, and trust you and each other."
"If it's not okay, then we need to stop."
"One day, we might agree that it's not okay. But right now, it is."

Tina finishes doing Quinn's hair, and kisses her on the forehead.
"Now go back to your birthday party, and act like you've not just had lesbian sex."
"We didn't have lesbian sex. I'm not a lesbian, you're not a lesbian, and we didn't have sex."
"I mean, I think you got two out of three things right."
"Tina, please, not now."
"Don't worry, princess. Your secret is safe with me."

Quinn just waved, as Tina left the room. Then she counts to five, takes a deep breath, and goes out the door, and back to her party.

When she arrives downstairs, her mother pulls her over to the centre of the room. Francesca stands up, and indicates that she wants to make a speech.

"So, it's little Lucy's birthday. As many of you know, Lucy wasn't exactly planned."

Of course she wasn't. You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out. Just someone with common sense.

"On this day, sixteen years ago, we were at the christening of my daughter, Katrina, when my mother started having terrible stomach pains. She was rushed to the hospital, leaving us behind, worried sick. A few hours later, we got the call that she had gone into labour, and given birth. To our baby sister, Lucy Quinn Diana Fabray. Although we weren't close in age, we managed to keep a close bond, and I often feel so relieved that I'm not the only girl. So, happy birthday, Lucy!"

They all raise their glasses, and cheer.
Quinn tries not to throw up on the sofa.

Then it's even more pictures, for everyone's social medias. Quinn isn't against it; she loves Instagram as much as the next person. But she hates how her siblings only talk to her twice a year (her birthday and Christmas) just to document it all.

She has to take pictures with all her nieces, and then the nephews. Then her and Katrina, her oldest niece, then her and her youngest niece, three month old Hazel. She is probably the only one Quinn doesn't hate (yet). Last is the picture of Quinn with all her nieces and nephews (all 25 of them).

Then she has to get her picture taken with her mom. Out of all her siblings, Quinn looks most like her mom. They have the same blonde hair and hazel eyes, though Judy has more strawberry blonde than full blonde, and her eyes are more brown than hazel.

Quinn's siblings have hair in different shades of auburn and ginger, and brown eyes. It's from her dads parents, and skipped a generation. And also missed out Quinn, for some reason.

So, Judy is the only person that links Quinn to the rest of the family. And when they've finished getting their picture taken, she turns around and hugs her mom- not too tight, or she would mess up her immaculate hair and dress- but tight enough to show that she means it.

"Thanks for a nice day."
"What do you mean, Lucy? It's your sixteenth birthday. Of course it was going to be nice."

Yeah, her mom likes to be difficult.
But, to be honest, so does Quinn.

Chapter Text

The day after Quinn turns sixteen, she spends the morning methodically bringing her gifts upstairs, one by one, and setting them in piles. She does this to avoid the steady stream of relatives waking up, and leaving.

She doesn't eat lunch, but makes herself a cup of tea instead, and steals a slice of her birthday cake. As the afternoon begins, her mother calls her downstairs for a 'family meeting'. This means that her parents are going to force her to do something she really doesn't want to.

Sure enough, the king and queen are sitting at the stupidly big dinner table. Maybe it was a good idea, for when her parents had six children all living under one roof, but now it just seems silly for the three of them. Quinn has sat in every seat, and is still to decide which one is her favourite.

"Lucy, darling, come sit down. Me and your father have to discuss something with you."
"Okay...?"
"It's about your social life. As you get older, it's crucial that you make friends, as they will most likely last you a lifetime. Look at me and Whitney."
"I know, and I'm friends with Brittany."
"But I have other friends. You, however don't. You just have Susan- no, I will not call her Brittany- and the Cohen-Chang's daughter."
"Tina?"
"That's the one. Look, we're not going to make you go to parties, or go back to school."
"Good."
"But we're going to start hosting meetings, here. Me and your father have a list of family friends with children around your age. They come here for a few hours, and you talk, and you make friends."
"Like a play date?"
"Not exactly."
"Mother, I'm not having a play date with some random people who I've never met."
"Fine, then we'll enroll you in William McKinley again. I know it didn't work out last time, but we can always try again-"
"No. Please. Fine. I'll have the meetings. As long as I'm allowed to have Brittany-"
"-Susan-"
"-Brittany, and Tina here. Also, don't invite loads of people. And can it be boys and girls, not just girls."
"Yes. I'm glad you've come around to the idea."
"You blackmailed me-"
"Sorry?"
"Nothing. Is there anything else you want to discuss, or can I go and read my book now?"
"One more thing. As you're sixteen now, it's really time that you get a handmaid."
"A what? Sorry, are we suddenly in the 18th century? Like a servant."
"That's one way of looking at it. But it's more than that. She'll stay with you for most of your life, help you get dressed, do your hair, and be on hand for anything you need."
"Do I need to? I can do my own hair."
"It's a tradition. And, I already know who I'm going to select."
"How?"
"My handmaid- you won't remember her, she left before you were born- has a daughter, who I believe is also sixteen. I promised that she would be able to get a job working here."
"Does this girl know about it?"
"I'm sure her guardian told her, at some point."
"When is she coming here? Mother, is this really necessary? You don't even have a handmaiden. Also, is there another word I can use?"
"Companion?"
"Not much better."
"I don't have a handmaiden now, but I did. And also, it is optional, but as I said, it's crucial for you to make bonds with others."
"But I have friends."
"Lucy Quinn, this is non-negotiable."
"Father, don't you have anything to say?"

Russel, who hadn't said a word, looks as though he's just been woken up.
"Just do what your mother says. At this point, as you get older, you're going to be in the public eye even more. And it's just unfortunate that your siblings aren't around to shield you from the attention."

Quinn just sighs. She's lost the argument.
"Can Brittany come over, mother?"
"Yes, as long as it's this morning. Your handmaiden should arrive this afternoon."
"Please stop calling her a handmaiden. Is there really nothing else we can refer to her as? What about her name. That would make sense."
"I can't quite recall. Contact Susan-"
"-Brittany-"
"Susan, and ask her to come over now."

Quinn leaves, taking in this new information. God, how she hates her mother. Play dates? What is she, 5? And a maid. What kind of misogynistic, dated, crap are her parents encouraging?

—
"So, it's basically some girl who's basically a maid, but also kind of your best friend?"
"Only if we get on. But Britt, you know how bad I am at first impressions. Actually, just talking to people in general. She's going to hate me."
"She won't hate you. Nobody hates you."
"Francesca hates me."
"Francesca is jealous of you. Now, open your presents. I really think you'll like them."

Quinn carefully unwraps the first thing. The layers of pink tissue paper fall apart, to reveal a golden bookmark. The thin metal is engraved with a Q, and tiny flowers.
"It's because you hate creasing the corners of your pages, I thought that this would put an end to it once and for all. At least you won't have to use an old receipt or anything anymore."
"Britt, I love it. It's so beautiful, did you make it yourself? How did you even-"
"It came as a plain gold bookmark, and I just engraved it. Mother and father are into arts and crafts right now, so they had all the tools."
"You're so talented."
"Yeah, I know. Open the other things!"
"I'm doing it. Oh, Britt..."
She lifts out the ceramic jewellery dish, painted in shades of pink. It's not shop bought, she can tell by the slight uneven edges, and the spots where the paint overlapped. Not to mention the tiny B painted on the underside of the dish, with an 'x' beside it.

Lastly, there's jewellery. Quinn has lots of jewellery; technically, she owns part of the Fabray Family Crown Jewels, but it's not as if she can accessorise with them. But she has charm bracelets, and real diamond earrings, and rings with almost every type of gem.

But Brittany had a knack for choosing things that Quinn will actually wear. And this time is no different. Quinn opens the tiny box to reveal a ring, made from amethysts shaped like hearts. It's almost stupidly small, and fits around her little finger perfectly. She hugs Brittany.

"I love it. And I love you, so much. You're the best person ever!" She holds her for another few seconds, before letting go.

"But Britt, I need to ask you about Tina."
"Q, we have this discussion every time. It's okay."
"But are you sure? It feels so wrong. You and Tina are dating."
"I know. But our relationship goes further than just making out. And you're my best friend, and you're probably Tina's best friend."
"Promise that you'll tell me when it's not okay?"
"Of course I will."

There's a knock at the door, and her mother looks in. Brittany sits up, and tucks her hair back.

"Good afternoon , Mrs Fabray."
"Hello Susan. I'm just here to let you know that your car is here to collect you."
"Already?"
"Yes. Lucy has lots of plans for this afternoon, and she needs to prepare."
"Oh. Right. Well, I'll go then."

They stand, and hug one last time. Quinn holds on to Brittany, and whispers 'I'll text you later' in her ear.

Brittany holds onto her friend, trying to give her some of the strength she possesses. She worries about Quinn, quite a lot. There always seems to be so many thoughts in her head, and so many people against her.

Then Brittany is gone, running down the staircase to the front door. One more 'bye', and then Quinn and her mother are left beside each other, on the stairs.

"Your companion will be arriving soon. Please try to be welcoming. This is important."
"I know. I'll be nice. Look at the ring Brittany got for me. Isn't it so pretty."

She shows her hand to her mother, who looks at it for a few seconds.

"That's lovely. Now, your companion should be here any time now. Please make her feel welcome."
"I will."

Some time passes, enough time for Quinn to get changed into a 'nice' dress (requested by her mother) and brush her hair. By the time she's downstairs again, the gate intercom has been activated.

"I sent a car for her, so that's them on their way up the drive. Please be nice."
"I'm always nice."

There's a knock at the door. Quinn's mother presses the lock, and it opens. The sun shines right into the foyer, blinding her for a second. She can only make out silhouettes, stopping her from getting a first look at her companion.

Then the door shuts again, and she can see clearly.

The girl standing in front of her, must be her companion.
She's very pretty. And completely unlike anyone she's ever seen before.

"Lucy, how about you take, uhm..." her mother trails off, a slight pink flush appearing across the top of her nose and cheeks. Quinn can tell she's embarrassed, because the exact same thing happens when she's embarrassed.

"Sorry, dear, what is your name?"
"Santana Lopez, ma'am." The girl replies.

San-tan-a. Quinn lists each syllable in her head. It's the first time she's heard of this name. It suits the girl, she thinks.

"Lucy, how about you take Santana to the library, and acquaint yourselves with each other."

Quinn nods, and locks eyes with Santana. The moment is fleeting, but it's there. A bolt of lightning, a flash of something that could be incredible, yet is so out of reach, Quinn brushes it from her mind.

"It's just down here." She says, wishing she had a witty comment, or proper introduction. But there's no point in saying her name, or her age, since it's broadcasted everywhere. And she's not good at quick remarks.

"Do you like reading?" Santana asks. She's not sure what to say to the princess. Also, how does she refer to her? 'Princess Lucy'? 'Lucy'? 'Ma'am'?
She's so out of her depth right now.

"Yes. I do. It's- it's probably my favourite thing. What about you?" Quinn's words fall over each other when she answers. It's the sheer joy at being talked to like she's a person.

"It's okay, I guess. The books I studied in school were boring though. What books are you studying?"
"I don't go to school. I get a tutor, and take part in online lectures."
"I wish I got to do that."
"Have you left then?" Quinn is curious about this girl. She pushes open the library door, and subconsciously leads Santana over to her favourite corner, and sits in her favourite chair.
"Am I good to sit here?" Santana asks, trying not to look around the room. Mahogany bookshelves house more books than she's ever seen. Compared to this, William McKinley High School's library is a pitiful sight.
"Yes. Do you want anything to eat or drink?"
"No thanks."

When Santana looks out the window, she can see the whole city. She wonders what the other girl sees when she looks out. Her kingdom? Or is she oblivious to her royalty.

"So, have you left school?"
"Not yet. I have a couple of weeks left. I was there this morning. I'm doing half days, just finishing off a few projects, and saying my goodbyes. Barely anyone stays on at my age."
"Are you going to college?" Quinn should stop with the questions, but she can't. Santana is just so fascinating.
"No." The girls expression changes. Quinn curses herself, for messing up. She's not sure what she said, only that she's probably ruined any chance of Santana liking her. Ever.

They sit in silence for a few more minutes.

Quinn isn't completely correct in thinking that she's upset Santana. No, Santana isn't quite angry. There's more sadness than anger. She should have been going to college. But because nothing ever seems to go to plan for her, her life has taken a completely different turn, which has resulted in her sitting across from a princess in a library.

But of course Quinn has no idea of this.

Santana realises that maybe she's messed something up. She can't get fired on her first day. Can she even get fired?

Not the point. She needs to salvage the situation.

"I like your ring." She says, tapping the table beside Quinn's hand.
"Thank you. I got it for my birthday."
"Are those amethysts?" Santana guesses, and she can't help but let the corners of her lips lift when the princess nods.
"Yes. They're my birthstone."
"Same."
"When's your birthday?"
"Two days ago."
"So you're a day older than me?"
"Yeah. Weird coincidence, huh?"
"I guess."

They fall into silence again. The rest of the castle is silent. A combination of thick walls, and lack of inhabitants, means that there's rarely any noise.

"Do you want me to show you around?" Quinn offers the other girl. Santana nods, and stands up. Quinn estimates that she's around 4 inches taller than the other girl.

"Is that your school uniform?" Quinn asks, taking in what Santana's wearing. A white shirt, and short black skirt. Her tie is loosely knotted around her neck, with red and white stripes. She's also got on thin black tights, and black Dr Martens with loose bows tied.

But it's her jacket completes the ensemble. It's a letterman jacket, the kind that Quinn had thought only existed in teen movies. It's in the school colours (red and white) with the school badge emblazoned on the front.

"Yeah. It kind of sucks though, having to wear a uniform."
"I like the jacket though."
"Thanks. It's because I'm a Cheerio."
"Like the cereal...?"
"No, sorry, I should have explained. Cheerio is the name given to the cheerleaders. Look."

Santana shows Quinn the front of her jacket, where 'W.M Cheerios' is embroidered, beside 'S.L'.

"I've only got a little while that I can still wear it, so I'm making the most of it."

Quinn nods. God, why can't she talk like a normal person. Santana's probably going to go home and tell her parents about the weird princess who doesn't talk.

"So, I guess I'll show you around. I won't do the whole thing, I don't want to bore you." Quinn says as they walk down the hallway, their footsteps echoing. "I'll just show you the bits that you'll probably be in."

Santana looks around her. The high ceilings pick up every noise, projecting it. She's lost count of how many doors they've passed, each one with a tiny nameplate.

She wonders if Quinn has ever gotten lost in the corridors, or if she was born with the ability to navigate castles, from her royal blood.

"This is the living room we use most. There's other ones, but as a family, we use this one. I say family; I mean my mother and father and me. When the others come, we go into the big one across the corridor." Quinn points to a closed door, then turns and opens the one behind her.

The first thing Santana notices is the piano. A grand piano, polished to the point where she's sure she could see her reflection in it, if she was in any way close enough.

"It's beautiful." She breathes, walking over to where it stands in the centre of the room.
"Do you play?" She turns to look at the princess, who nods.
"Yes. My mother- she was desperate for one of us to play. My siblings all gave up, but I stuck in."
"Do you play for other people?"

It's an odd question, one that Quinn has never considered. She thought the whole point of the piano was to perform: to show her talent, and make people stop, and listen.

"I'm not asking you to play for me or anything. I just wondered." Santana had mistook Quinn's silence for irritation, or panic.

"I don't play much, not anymore. Do you play?"

Santana shakes her head.
"I tried to, but there's not enough pianos or music teachers at school. I can sometimes manage an awful version of 'heart and soul', but that's it."

The expression on her face, of true sorrow over this small problem, makes Quinn laugh.
"I'm sorry." She says, covering her mouth between laughs. "It's just-"
"No, I get it." Santana laughs as well, her laugh matching her raspy voice.

Their peals of laughter echo, through the castle that hasn't heard joy like this in years.

When they've recovered, Santana broaches the question that's been bothering her all day.

"Can I ask, what do I call you?" She asks.

Quinn looks her up and down. She sees a person, completely unlike her in every way. A girl, who she can laugh with, and makes her feel at ease.
She sees a friend.

"Most people call me Lucy, but you can call me Quinn, if you wish."

Chapter Text

Quinn waits for Santana to stop looking around the room with wide eyes.
"We can move on, if you want." She offers, trying to see what Santana sees. It's just a room. Yes, it's probably bigger than average, and has quite a lot of fancy ornaments and paintings. But still.
Just a room.

"Yeah, sure." Santana follows Quinn through the doorway, and down the corridor. The castle is warmer than she had expected. Though it seems stupid that she had assumed it would be cold- when you're royalty, obviously you can afford heating.

"This is the dining room. I'm, uhm, not sure how it will work. If you eat with us, or the other staff."
Santana had forgotten that there were other people who worked for the family. She wonders where they are? Is there secret passages running around the castle, so the Fabray's don't have to see them?

Surely not. Queen Judy, she's nice enough. She made eye contact with Santana, and was polite (even though she forgot her name). As for Quinn, she's sweet, and just seems like a regular teenage girl (apart from the title and her castle).

"Is everything okay?" Quinn asks from the room, turning to see Santana deep in thought in the doorway.
"Yeah, fine. I was just wondering- is there servants passages or something? I mean, it's a pretty old castle. There must be some."

If Santana was any closer, she would see something flash over Quinn's face. An expression like a smile, or a silent laugh.

But she's still in the doorway, so she doesn't see anything happen.

"Yeah, but they're mostly bricked up. I used to look for them, when I was younger."

An image appears in Santana's head, of Quinn as a child. All blonde hair and shy smiles, tiptoeing around a castle that seems too big for her. It's a world away from how Santana grew up.

"Where do you sit?" Santana asks, standing at the other side of the table from Quinn.
"It depends. I sit there if the sun is setting-" she points to a seat opposite the window-"so I can watch, or there if it's extra cold." She points to a seat beside the fireplace, though there's no fire on right now.
"What if your siblings are here? Isn't there like, five of them?" Santana asks.
"Six. One girl, five boys. Uhm, if they're here, then I pretend to be ill and eat in my room."
"God. Are they full on?"
"Yes. Wait, that sounds bad."

Quinn's never been asked what she thinks of her siblings before, which is why she says her first answer that comes to mind, without filtering it.
But Santana's smiling a little, and she's tilted her head to the side a little.

"Don't worry. I won't tell your mom." She fake whispers, leaning towards Quinn, who blushes a little in return. She mirrors Santana's position; hands flat on the table, leaning in.

It would appear to some that Santana is flirting with the princess.
However, Quinn hasn’t realised.
Maybe Santana hasn’t realised either.

"I guess, sometimes, they're a bit much. It's just that they're very loud, and confident, and have big families. And-" she's about to say another thing, the statement that plays in her head every time someone mentions them or she sees them.

But she just met Santana today, and she doesn't want to scare her away, or make things awkward.
"And...?" Santana's still watching her. But Quinn shrugs, and turns away.
"Nothing. I forgot what I was going to say." She goes to the door, turns.
"I can show you the bathrooms now? They're on the next floor, and that leads us to my bedroom."
"Cool."

They meet one of the staff on the stairs. It's the main staircase, the one that appears on the Fabray's instagram every few months. In December, there's two Christmas trees on either side, artfully decorated in gold and red.

But it's just a staircase today, but that doesn't stop Santana from feeling a little rush at walking up the steps that the whole family assemble on, for the yearly Christmas picture.

"Miss Holliday, hi." Quinn says to the blonde woman walking toward them. Santana looks at her, and smiles politely.
"Hello Lucy. You must be Santana." She offers her hand. Santana shakes it twice, then lets go.
"I'm Miss Holliday. Head of the staff here, at the castle. It's lovely to meet you, and I'm sure Lucy has been providing a suitable tour."
"Yeah, she's been showing me around."
"That's good. I'm glad I bumped into you both. Lucy, your mother has asked that I send you both along to the green room."
"Now?"
"As soon as possible. But it was good to meet you Santana, and I hope to see more of you."
"Bye Miss Holliday."
"Bye girls."

Holly Holliday has worked for the Fabray family for ten years. When she applied for the job (she can't even remember the title, all these years on), she had no idea that it would lead her through promotion after promotion, until she was in charge of all staff in the castle, and a close confidant of the Queen.

She was only around to see the youngest princess grow up- she's the same age as Princess Francesca, though it doesn't feel like it. But Princess Lucy wasn't at all the spoiled brat she was expecting to meet. No, she's a polite girl who always talks to her, and still calls her 'Miss', even though Holly has told her multiple times that she can be called Holly.

She, like Brittany, and possible even the Queen, also worries about Quinn. She's quiet, and seems to drift around the corridors, alone.

Holly knows of the Queen's concerns about her youngest daughter. By the time Francesca was Quinn's age, she had already began to plan her marriage, and was engaging in a search for a future husband. She was also part of a group of teens, all from Lima's top class.

They would appear in gossip magazines, and Instagram posts, all dressed in matching outfits, appearing at upmarket bars and restaurants all over the city.

When Queen Judy compares Quinn, the differences are countless. Or so Holly is told.

But that's why Santana's been introduced. Not only is it giving her an opportunity to work, and gain experience, it's also giving the princess a friend, or at least, someone to talk to.

Holly lingers a second longer on the stairs, listening to Santana say something, and Quinn laugh a little in response. A smile graces her lips, she straightens her skirt and walks on.

Quinn and Santana walk side by side along the corridor. Instead of paintings, these walls house pictures of the Fabray siblings- minus their youngest sister. Santana is trying not to stare, or walk too slowly, but it's hard not to look.

When Quinn notices (because she notices everything), she slows down.
"They took the same photo every year, since Frannie was born." Quinn gestures to a photo of a much younger Queen Judy holding a red-haired baby, standing beside the King. The next photo has the King holding a baby as well, and Judy with Frannie again. The next three pictures are similar, but a new child appears in each one.(apart from the second-last one. That was the year the twins were born).

They walk past pictures that show the children getting taller, going through awkward stages and finally becoming teenagers, then adults. Then there's a picture that's slightly different.

In the midst of the tall, red-haired adults, Judy is holding a blonde haired child, wearing a frilly white dress.

"That's you." Santana says. Quinn nods.
"Yep. They stopped taking them after that. Too much bother, trying to get us all in. My mother said we would run out of wall space."
"You were so cute." Santana offers, as a compliment of sorts. She's not sure what else to say, and Quinn's face is proving to be unreadable.

"You think so?"
"Definitely. I mean you're way cuter than I was. I looked like a rat, and screamed non-stop for the first few months of my life. Then I managed to catch every illness going. Thank god I sorted myself out before I started school, or I would have definitely been kicked out."
"I'm sure that's not true."
"Ask my abuela."

It's this, that Quinn likes about Santana. The slight challenges she finishes her sentences with- as if this is all a game.
Yes. She quite likes Santana.

"This is the green room." Quinn pushes the door open, and walks in, Santana close behind.

It's obvious where the name comes from. The room is in one of the turrets in the castle, meaning the walls are slightly curved. Green velvet sofas face out the window, and the walls have a dark brown panelling. The Queen is sitting in one of the armchairs, her back perfectly straight. When Quinn sits on one of the sofas, Santana follows.

"So, I'm afraid I have to cut your tour short. I've spoken to Miss Holliday, and we've agreed that a trial period shall be in place, until everything is finalised. How is, let's say, two weeks? Miss Lopez, you will come here a few times, just for a few hours, to get to know Lucy and how things work around here. At the end of the period, you can give us your final decision. We will observe you throughout this time, and make sure that you are suitable for this role."
"Okay, ma'am. Thank you."
"Mother, I was wondering, what will happen if Santana eats here? Where will she eat?" Quinn asks, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
"She will eat with the other staff, I will imagine. Miss Lopez, we provide three meals a day for the staff. Whether you choose to eat here, is your own choice, but you can let Miss Holliday know your arrangements. We shall also provide a bedroom for you, as is the custom with staff that have a role similar to yours. It is three doors down from Lucy's bedroom, in the next corridor. Is there any other enquiries you have?"
"No, ma'am. Thank you."
"Your car should be outside, I'll leave Lucy to show you out."
"Yes, ma'am, thank you very much. Bye."
"Goodbye."

The Queen leaves the room first, and Quinn waits until she can't hear her footsteps anymore, before getting up.
"I guess I'll have to show you the rest next time."
"Yeah. Thanks for the tour though."

They walk down the stairs in silence. When they reach the bottom, Quinn freezes, and turns to face Santana.
"Wait, are you going to take the job?" Her hazel eyes search Santana's, looking for an answer. But the only thought in Santana's head at this exact moment is 'wow. she has pretty eyes'.
Not very helpful.

"Uhm, yeah, sure. I didn't think I got a choice. Yeah, definitely. I think that it makes sense."

Quinn smiles, then blushes, then pushes her hair behind her ears. She has tiny diamond studs in both, catching the light.

Santana watches, and is then painfully aware of her own fake gold earrings, and how tacky they must look. Not to mention the various other piercings climbing her ears- she lives above a tattoo and piercing parlour, and happens to be very good friends with the employees.

Quinn doesn't notice as Santana makes sure her ears are covered by her dark curls, pulling strands to the front. She just watches out the window, for the signature car.

After a few minutes, in which no words are exchanged, the sleek black vehicle pulls up to the front door.
"I guess that's me." Santana says, as Quinn unlocks the door.
"It was really nice to meet you, Santana. I had a nice time."
"Same to you. I'll see you soon, yeah?"
"Definitely. Bye"
"Bye Quinn." Are Santana's last words, delivered quietly in case the Queen is nearby.

The door closes. Quinn can't stop the bubble of joy from rising up. Her day, which had been going pretty badly, has suddenly got so much better! She has someone new to talk to, and apart from one tiny slip-up, she managed to communicate like a normal person.

"Lucy? Are you quite alright?" Her mother asks from behind her.
"Yes. Thanks. Are you?"
"Yes. Anyway, I need to talk to you in my office. I would like to host one of the meetings we spoke about this morning- do you recall?"
"The playdates for adults?"
"Acquainting parties, thank you.”

Please don’t laugh please don’t laugh.

“That. So, I’m actually having one?”
“Yes. We just need to finalise the guest list.”

Judy doesn’t stop, just walks off. Quinn takes that as she’s meant to follow. Once in the Queens office (it’s ridiculously organised), a piece of paper is handed to Quinn.

The list reads:

Lady Susan Pierce-
Lady Tina Cohen-Chang
Sir Kurt Hummel
Sir Blaine Anderson
Sir Sam Evans
Sir Finn Hudson
Lady Rachel Berry
Sir Arthur Abrams
Lady Marley Rose
Sugar Motta

“Mother, under no circumstances am I inviting Rachel Berry here.”
“Why not? She’s a delightful girl, even if her family background is a bit…unusual.”
“She’s so loud, and annoying. Also, who is Sugar Motta? Is that her real name?”
“I’m afraid it is. She was your fathers idea. Apparently he is acquaintances with her father, and it would be rude to not invite her. Though I had been trying to only invite children of a royal status, and this ruins it.”
“I didn’t even realise there was that many royal children in the area.”
“You’ve met some, am I correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, dear, not ‘yeah’. Please, you are a princess. Use the correct words.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Well, I’m sure they have all met each other at some point. That’s the whole point of this, to meet new people similar to you.”
“Similar in what way? Because of the people from the list I’ve met, I’ve found we have nothing in common.”
“Don’t be difficult. You’re sixteen. It’s time to stop acting like a child.”
“I know. I was just making an honest observation. Nothing else.”

Judy looks at her youngest daughter. She doesn’t remember Francesca being this difficult, or determined to rebel against tradition.

“Lucy Quinn, this is an important year.” Her mother begins, voice soft. Quinn represses every urge to roll her eyes. In the past week, her mother has used this sentence opener at least twenty times. “As a person of royal status, your life is slightly different to others your age. I’m just trying to give you a safe place.”
“I have a safe place. It’s my bedroom. Alone.”
Or with Tina, that stupid voice whispers. Quinn tells it to shut up.
“Lucy, don’t take that tone with me. What I was trying to say, is that there’s going to be more pressure, more tension this year. And I am trying to protect you from it as much as I can.”
“I know. It’s just, I have friends. I don’t know why I need to talk to so many people, when they’re not my friends.”
“You need more than one friend.”
“Two! Brittany and Tina.”
“You’re not getting out of this. Please, Lucy.”

Quinn doesn’t answer. Her mother decides to take it as a yes.

“Thank you. You’re free to go now.”

And that’s exactly what Quinn does.

Chapter Text

Quinn doesn't sleep that night. She tosses and turns, unable to shut down. Even though she's in her favourite room, and it still smells faintly of the candle she lit to relax, and she even drank chamomile tea before going to bed. All her efforts were in spite.

When she does close her eyes, she falls into a restless sleep. She can't remember what appears in her dreams, only that it forces her awake, and she has tears running down her cheeks when she wipes her face.

Unable to take it anymore, she sits up, and turns on her bedside light. When she picks up her phone, the screen blares at her. It's quarter past three. She needs to talk to someone.

'are you awake?'
'always 4 u princess'
'are you ok to phone me?'
'ofc'

She answers on the first ring.

"Hey princess" Tina drawls.
"Hi. Sorry for phoning so late."
"It's fine. I was awake anyway. What's up?" Her tone changes to concerned.
"Nothing. Sorry, it's stupid."
"No. Talk to me."
"I just couldn't sleep. At all. And I didn't want to wake up Brittany, and you're the only other person who I really talk to."
"That's cute. So, do you just wanna talk, or is there something going on."
"Is it okay if we just talk?"
"Yeah. Tell me about your day."
"I, uhm, I met my companion."
"Yeah, Brittany mentioned that. What's she like?"
"She's really nice. Like, really sweet. And she's pretty too. And she has all these cool earrings."
"I kind of want to meet her. What's her name again?"
"Santana Lopez. She's sixteen as well."
"So, it's not as bad as you thought?"
"I guess. I just don't like how it's her job. I mean, she could have just been pretending to like me."
"I don't think she would do that. I don't get why you're always doubtful about if people like you."
"Because they usually don't. I'm awkward, and generally don't talk. That's why I have two friends; you and Brittany."
"Though that's about to change. My mom and dad received that invitation from your mom. About the 'acquainting parties'?"

Quinn can hear Tina's stifled giggle.

"Don't even talk about it. I've been blackmailed into it."
"It'll be fun though. Like, meeting new people. We don't get out much."
"I don't want to meet new people."
"But I do. Look, if it's being hosted at your castle, you can just run off and hide."
"I guess I could do that."
"That's the spirit! Is there anything else you need to talk about?"
"I think that's it. Thanks. I really mean it."
"No problem at all, princess. See you later."
"Love you."
"Love you too."

Tina hangs up, and sits her phone back on her bedside table.
"Confessing your love while in bed with your girlfriend? Bold move." Brittany mumbles from beside her. Tina shakes her head, and lies back down beside her.
"It was Lucy Q."
"Is she okay?"
"She just couldn't sleep, and needed someone to talk to."
"And you're her first choice? God, how desperate is she." Brittany jokes, her voice heavy with sleep. Tina elbows her gently, then cuddles up beside her.
"You're lucky I love you." She whispers, before closing her eyes.

Quinn does get to sleep, eventually. But not until the next day, when she goes into the library. I'm her defence, she doesn't feel that tired, considering she's running on no sleep. If she had known she would be out less than five minutes after sitting down, she would never have ventured into the library.

However, she cannot see into the future. And so she sits in her favourite chair, and opens her book, and barely gets past the first page.

When she does wake up, it's because her mother is standing above her, shaking her shoulder.
"Lucy Quinn. What are you doing?" She practically hisses.
"Reading...? Wait, what time is it?"
"It's two o'clock. In the afternoon."
"Really? But I swear I just came downstairs."
"You fell asleep."
"Oh."

Judy looks at her daughter, and sees that she is genuinely confused. So she resists the urge to tell her off, and takes a deep breath.

"Okay. So, I would like you to go upstairs, and select a suitable outfit for tomorrow. Everyone has replies to my invites, and they're all going to be attending."
"Fabulous. When is Santana next coming?"
"I believe tomorrow. Oh, I must have gotten my times mixed up, as that coincides with the meeting. I'll tell her to come another day."
"It's fine. I mean, if she's on a trial period, maybe it will be good to see her around others."

Judy narrows her eyes slightly. Her daughter is clever, all her children are. But there's something about Lucy that sets her apart from the others. She doesn't just act, she thinks about it. There's a scheming side to her, that could almost be called manipulative, if it wasn't her daughter she was describing.

The point is, she knows that Quinn wants something. She just can't figure out what.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Okay, she can come tomorrow." Judy says slowly, nodding.
"Thank you. Okay, I'm going to go now, and choose an outfit." Quinn says, standing up and stretching. The library chairs might be comfortable, but they're a bitch on her back.

She doesn't go to her favourite bedroom. There's nowhere near enough space for a closet in there. No, she's forced to go to the Teen-Vogue bedroom. Admittedly, she does quite like the closet. It's like something from one of the rom-coms her and Brittany used to watch.

She begins by choosing a type of outfit. Dress, top+skirt or top+trousers/jeans. She's quick to cancel out jeans. Her mother would have a fit, and possibly disown her.

Maybe a top and skirt would look nice. Or a dress, if she can find one that's not over the top.

Quinn likes clothes. She likes to curate her looks, and make everything match. To her, it's a form of art, and can totally change how people perceive her. She knows that her mother approves of her softer, more feminine styles. But she doesn't dress like that for her mother. No, she does it for herself.

She selects a few outfits, and hangs them up. She can decide what she's going to wear in the morning. Hopefully Santana will be here by then, and can help her.

Santana's style is another one that she liked. Yes, she was wearing a school uniform, but there were glimpses of who she was. The Dr Martens (which Quinn is pretty sure are fakes. The labels weren't right), and the gold piercings scattered over her ears. Even the tiny braids in her dark curls, that Quinn didn't notice for quite a while.

She wonders what Santana would wear in her free time. Probably darker, warmer colours. Or sports clothes, but the cool, 90's style.

It's at that moment, Quinn realises she's looking forward to seeing Santana again.

Dinner that night is, as always, a quiet affair.

Sometimes, Russel Fabray finds himself forgetting that he has a seventh child. His youngest daughter, she's just disconnected. He can't remember the last time they had a proper conversation, or even spent time together.

He knows that Lucy is different to Frannie, his eldest. At her age, she had a boyfriend (her future husband) and was taking part in all the correct social events. She did interviews, talked to the right people, and even managed to graduate high school with some of the highest results.

And then there's Lucy. He can't even imagine her having a boyfriend. He would never tell anyone this, but he thinks she's cold. As in, she rarely shows love. Also, she barely leaves the castle, and only talks to the same two people. As for school? Don't make him laugh.

But he should probably be happy that she's not too much trouble. He's too old to be running around, trying to stop her getting in trouble (the way he did 22 years ago with his other children).

Quinn is quick to excuse herself from the dinner table. The silence is stifling, and she's tired.

She wanders upstairs, stopping in her room to get her shower bag, then goes to the ensuite bathroom. That's one of the pros of being the only child at home- she doesn't need to share.

Condensation gathers on the pale blue tiles as she turns on the shower, and waits for the water to get hot enough. Quinn likes her showers to be scalding hot, to the point where she has to slowly edge herself under the water.

She sits her products around the shower, ready for use. She's lucky enough to have naturally blonde hair, and takes care of it.

When she steps behind the shower curtain, she closes her eyes and lets the day wash off her. The hot water envelopes her, shielding her from the world. She combs her fingers through her hair, releasing invisible tangles.

She exhales.

After showering throughly, she combs through her damp hair, then wraps it in a towel. Her skincare routine is one she follows meticulously; her mother instilled it in her at a fairly early age, and she does it every morning and night.

Later, in her bed with her pyjamas on, she lifts up her laptop and turns on Netflix. She doesn't watch much tv- she finds her attention strays- but there are a select few programmes that she enjoys watching.

Such as this one. It's graphic, and messy, and she loves every second of it. The characters are complex, and none are really good. Plus there may or may not be a lesbian couple. That's not the reason she watches it, but it does make it slightly more enjoyable.

The programme starts with a plane crash in the 90's, and flashes forward to modern day. Right now, she's watching as the girls teeter on the edge of starvation. They're mere seconds away from reverting to cannibalism.

Okay. Yes, her mother would kill her if she knew what she was watching. But what Queen Judy doesn't know, won't hurt her.

After the episode finishes, she's ready to sleep. And, believe it or not, she does actually get a few hours, before she starts to wake up. She tries to turn over and close her eyes again, but by half four, she's completely awake.

So, she makes the most of her time, by getting up and going down to her other room. She showers, then curls her hair and paints her nails. While she waits for her nails to dry, she watches more of her lesbian teen cannibal programme.

She's trying to figure out what character she is. There's probably an online quiz she can take for that. She'll force Brittany to watch it (and maybe Tina, she would probably like that sort of thing), and they can take the quiz together.

The sun is slowly beginning to rise, and she continues trying to choose an outfit. Eventually, she decides on a dress. It's white, with little tiny pink flowers patterned on it, and a skirt that lands just above her knees. She pairs it with very sheer black tights, and sits out her beloved Dr Marten Mary Janes for later. Her hair is already done, and her nails have a French tip carefully painted on.

No, she doesn't want to go to this stupid party. But she doesn't get a choice, so she might as well look nice while at it.

She shrugs on a pink cardigan, the thick wool immediately starting to warm her up. The heating isn't turned on this early in the morning, since everyone else in the castle is asleep. Even the kitchen staff are enjoying the last few minutes of peace before their alarms wake them up.

Quinn goes back up to her bedroom, and finishes her episode.
One left, and then she's going to have to wait for the next season.

She makes her bed, and arranges all her cushions and blankets in the way she likes them. Then she goes downstairs, to her other bedroom, and tidies up the closet.

If she’s very, very quiet, she can hear the kitchen staff downstairs, making breakfast. The sun has almost fully risen, meaning she’s allowed to go downstairs now.

Quinn’s messed-up sleep schedule has been going since she was a toddler. No matter what her parents tried, they just couldn’t get her to sleep more than three hours straight. On a good night, she would sleep for an hour, then wake up for an hour, and repeat until it was morning.

So her very much sleep-deprived parents gave up. They said that her sleep schedule was her responsibility, and she was to try and lie down, even if it was only for an hour. She was allowed to do anything she wanted, as long as she was quiet, and stayed in her bedroom. Her parents final rule on the matter was that when the sun rose, she was allowed to leave her room.

Of course, she tells her parents that she sleeps fine, and her days of lying awake are behind her. No need for them to be worrying about such a trivial matter.

Her mother decided that the party will be held in the library. Part of Quinn is grateful, for her mother choosing somewhere Quinn is comfortable. However, her mother probably chose it to show off how educated her children are, and the amount of literature that the castle holds.

Quinn is having a hard time remembering who is attending. She knows Britt and Tina will be there. Also Rachel Berry (pain), and the girl with the pretend name (Sugar Motta). Apart from that, she has no clue. One of the names sounded very familiar, to the point it unlocked a memory, of gardens and a long, hot summer. But she probably made that up, and she can’t even remember who it is.

A ball of nerves has settled in the pit of her stomach. The idea of people she barely knows, being crowded into a room, and looking at her and talking to her. She doesn’t know what to say, or how to be funny. Goosebumps break out on her skin, and she feels sick.

Obviously she doesn’t eat breakfast, and instead goes into the library. Her mother has done a good job of organising it, she has to admit. The chairs are positioned in a certain way, so you could sit and talk with a small group, but just as easily converse with the whole room.

She hates it.

She finds her favourite chair, which has been turned to the wrong angle. She pushes it back into place, and sits in it, a book in her lap. She has a few hours before the guests (and Santana) arrive. More than enough time to finish this book, and perhaps start a new one.

As the saying goes, time flies when you’re having fun. Quinn manages to finish both books, and is about to select a new one, when she’s disturbed.

“Lucy?” A voice calls out from behind her. She turns to see Miss Holliday, in the doorway.
“Hi, Miss Holliday.”
“I was to come and find you. The guests will be arriving soon. Also, Miss Lopez has just arrived. Your mother says you will greet her?”

Quinn thanks Miss Holliday, and exits the room. She descends the staircase, just as the front door is opened.

Santana steps in, wearing her signature Cheerio jacket and her uniform.

“Hi, Santana.” Quinn says. Santana glances from side to side, checking there’s nobody else, before replying.
“Hi, Quinn.”

Chapter Text

When Quinn dies, and she doesn't make it into heaven (because, let's be serious, who does?), and she ends up in hell, she's going to find herself sitting in the library in her castle, at her mother's
'Acquainting party'

It's so loud. Rachel Berry, well, every time she opens her mouth, Quinn can feel her ears die a little bit more each time. As for Sugar Motta, her voice is a special kind of unbearable.

Apart from that, her day is going great.

But seriously. How is this, in any way, enjoyable for any of the people here? She does a quick run down of the guests, and profiles them in her head.

Brittany- Quinn's best friend
Tina- Quinn's friend
Kurt- Quieter, seems nice. Friends with Blaine
Blaine- confident, seems nice, friends with Kurt
Sugar- loud. Obnoxious. tries too hard to be funny
Finn- not a lot going on in his head. Spends his whole time staring at Rachel
Rachel- loud. attention seeker. Starts every sentence with "well, I think". Keeps looking over to see if Finn is starting at her.
Arthur- called 'artie' by the others. appears to be in love with Brittany (poor boy)
Marley- the quietest of them all. Seems to know Brittany from somewhere, and is sitting with her.

There's someone missing. Quinn is sure there was ten people on the list. And, of course, the tenth person is the one she thinks she remembers . Unless she's just making it up, and her brain is finally giving up on her.

She's positioned herself in the corner of the room, so she can watch without being disturbed. Which is why she's not expecting someone to appear beside her.

"Hey." A familiar voice says. Quinn turns around to see Santana sitting down in the chair next to her. Thank god.
"Hi, how are you?"
"Good. You?"
"Fine."
"Miss Holliday just gave me a tour of the castle. How do you not get lost?"
"I've lived here for sixteen years, I can just about manage it. However, I always carry around some breadcrumbs, in case I find myself walking in circles. It's a tried and tested method."
"You would recommend?"
"Absolutely."

"I like your earrings, by the way." Quinn says. Santana instinctively reaches up to fiddle with her gold hoops.
"Really? I thought they looked tacky."
"No, they're kind of cool. How many do you have, all together? Piercings, I mean."
"Uhm, twelve or thirteen, I think. Wait, fourteen. Yeah, I got one on my birthday, so it's fourteen."
"Wow. Do your parents mind?"
"My abuela says that as long as my ears don't fall off, I'm okay to get as many as I like."
"She sounds fun."
"She's a scary lady, my abuela."

Santana takes a second, to survey the room. She notices something almost straight away.
"If you don't mind me asking, why are you sitting away from everyone else?" She asks.
Quinn shrugs.
"I don't really know them."
"Isn't that the whole point of this? To get to know others?"
"Yes, but they already know each other. I know Brittany and Tina."
"Brittany's your best friend, right?"
"Yes. Wait, how did you know that?"
"There is nothing my aunt loves more than a magazine on the royals. She probably knows more about your family than you do."
"And you read the magazines as well?"

Quinn is sure that Santana blushes. But she's not going to say anything.
"Sometimes. Or I use them to block the bottom of the doors, and stop a draught getting in."
"Or read them."
"Quinn, you are the only person I have ever admitted that to."
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
"I'm going to go now. Miss Holliday said I could come and see you, just to check in, and then I'm to meet her to tour the staff quarters."
"Remember the breadcrumbs." Quinn says, receiving a short thumbs up from Santana in return, before she leaves the room.

Santana was correct. Everyone else in the room have moved together, and are grouped together. Most people sit in chairs, and a few lean on the bookshelves. They talk to each other, probably exchanging stories about themselves and learning facts about the person beside them.

Quinn can hear footsteps behind her, and she turns, thinking it's Santana again. And it's hard to hide her disappointment when someone who is definitely not Santana walks in.

No. It's a boy. With slightly too-long blonde hair that brushes his collar, and wearing an outfit identical to the other males in the room, apart from Kurt. Quinn isn't even going to begin to describe his outfit, but it's truly unique.

"Wow. You look disappointed to see me." He says, sitting where Santana had sat only minutes ago. Quinn immediately blushes. She doesn't want to come across as rude. At least, not intentionally.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
"No worries. I'm Sam."
"I'm Lucy."
"Samuel Evans, in full. Or, actually, that's not my full name, but sometimes I forget that one. Anyways, I'm sorry I'm late. There was bad traffic. Also I slept in."

Quinn lets his mindless rambling fill the silent corner of the room. Then he is suddenly quiet, and she realises he asked her a question.

"I'm sorry? I didn't quite hear."
"I asked if you remembered me."
"If I remembered you? Have we met?"
"Not recently. A very long time ago, in fact. It must be about ten years now."

She looks at him. He's definitely what Brittany would label as cute. He's evidently uncomfortable in his shirt, and keeps pulling the cuffs away from his wrists. But she tries to look deeper, past all the awkward boyishness. And there's definitely something familiar about him.

"Tell me more about yourself. Maybe it will spur a memory."
"My name is Sam Evans. I'm seventeen. I have a brother and a sister, though you won't know anything about them. I usually live on the West Coast, but I spent a few months here. My mother was close friends with your mother when they were at school, and so I spent-"
"-a summer here. Wait, I think I do remember you. You had an obsession with Dr Zeuss. Especially Green Eggs and Han."
"That's right. You remember that part as well?"
"I didn't realise I did."
"You've not changed. Like, you're exactly how I remember you looking."

Quinn doesn't remember what he looked like. The rest, she does remember. Even the part about Green Eggs and Han. It was stored in that part of her memory reserved for childhood, along with her numerous birthday parties, and learning to horse-ride with Brittany, and her first ever piano lesson.

"So, you're back in Lima?" She asks, curious about this stranger from her past.
"Yeah. Life on the West Coast was pretty sweet, but mom wanted me to start getting ready for taking on my duties, and all that."
"Well, it's nice to meet you again, after all these years."

They fall into silence. Sam looks over to the other group. He probably wishes that he was sitting over there.

"Have you been in Lima for long?" Quinn asks.
"We arrived two days ago."
"So, you don't know anyone here?"
"Nope. Apart from you, of course."
"I could walk over with you, and you could introduce yourself, if you wanted?"
"Yeah, that would be cool."

Okay, so here's Quinn's plan. She takes Sam over, playing the part of the perfect host, and lets him introduce himself. Then, while everyone is getting to know him, she excuses herself to the bathroom, then hides until this is over.

Genius or what?

So she stands up, and walks over to the group in the corner, Sam beside her. Brittany is the first to notice, and then draw attention to, them.

"You must be the new guy. Sam, right?" She says, her clear voice stopping everyone else from talking. Sam nods.
"Yeah, that's me. Sorry, I don't know any of your names. Lucy said she would introduce me."

No. He's meant to introduce himself.

"Come sit down, and we can all properly introduce ourselves, since this is the first time a few of us have ever met." Brittany suggests, getting a chorus of nods and 'yeah's.

Before Quinn can escape, Brittany takes her hand and pulls her into the space between her and Tina. Sam sits on one of the chairs opposite her.

"So, I'll go first. My name is Brittany, and I'm sixteen, turning seventeen in a few weeks."
"I'm Tina. Sixteen."
"I'm Lucy, and I'm sixteen as well."
"I'm Marley, and I'm sixteen."
"My name is Rachel Berry, and I'm seventeen."
"Finn Hudson, also seventeen."
"I'm Kurt, and I'm seventeen."
"Blaine, and I'm sixteen."
"Arthur, but I prefer Artie. I'm seventeen."
"I'm Sugar Motta, and I'm sixteen."
"My name is Sam, Sam Evans, and I'm seventeen."

"So, we're all around the same age?" Brittany says. "Who's oldest and who's youngest? Lucy, I know you're the youngest."
"I think I'm the oldest." Finn says. "I'm turning eighteen next month.

"Lucy, I feel like we hardly know you." Rachel says, turning to face her. Quinn immediately wants to run away, especially when the others turn to look as well.
"I mean, I know you have lots of royal duties, but you never come out with us. Even Brittany and Tina make an appearance every so often."
"I'm sure she'll come along one day." Brittany says, knowing fine well that Quinn would rather die. She nudges her slightly, just to show that she's not serious.
"Will you, Lucy?" Rachel says, tilting her head to the side in the most irritating way ever, and Quinn doesn't know if she should nod or shake her head or slap Rachel and run away. Alas, the most enjoyable of these options is, as always, the least practical.

"Uhm, I'm just going to go-" she mutters, standing up. Brittany makes an attempt to keep hold of her arm, but Quinn easily shrugs her off, and walks out the room.

She can't do it.

It's cooler out in the corridor, and the open window means she can finally breathe.

She turns to the left, checking that her mother isn't patrolling the halls, then strides down the corridor and turns left. There's a place, about halfway down the corridor, that looks like an alcove. But if you pull the tapestry aside, it reveals another corridor, albeit a smaller, older, slightly dustier one.

And this is where Quinn disappears through, and follows it to the other side of the castle, where she's sure her mother won't find her.

But she didn't take into account the other people in the castle. Which is why she walks out the end of the corridor, straight into Miss Holliday and, of course, Santana.

"Lucy? What are you doing?" Miss Holliday exclaims, folding her arms. Quinn can already feel her cheeks heating up.
"I was just going to the bathroom."
"Your mother said you weren't to hide from the meeting."
"I'm not hiding."

Miss Holliday raises an eyebrow, and that's when Quinn knows she's been beat. Holly checks her watch, then folds her arms.

"How about you and Santana walk back around to the library- the long way, none of your secret passages this time- and by that time, you will have ten minutes until your guests leave. Lots of time to say your goodbyes."
"Thank you, Miss Holliday."

She turns, leaving Quinn and Santana alone in the corridor.
"So, are you enjoying the party?" Santana asks as they follow the corridor round.
"Not particularly. Though a new boy showed up, claiming to be from my childhood."
"And is he?"
"I think so. At least, I remember some parts of him. Like his fixation with Dr Zeuss."
"Interesting. What's he like now?"
"To be honest, he's quite cute. I would understand if someone was to have feelings towards him."
"Ah. And are you one of those people?"
"A princess should never reveal any feelings at all, least of all romantic ones, until the relationship is approved of."
"Is that a rule?"
"An unspoken one, but yes."

Quinn is actually being truthful. Years ago, before her mother realised how antisocial her youngest daughter was, Quinn had to endure a 'talk' from her mother. Judy said a lot of things, one of which being that if Quinn found someone that she felt romantically inclined towards, she was to immediately tell her mother, so the Queen could decide if this boy was right for her daughter.

Quinn had never had a boyfriend, or even liked a boy, so this rule has never been put into action.
Thank god.

"So, you got a tour?" Quinn says, when she feels that they've been silent for too long.
"Yeah. Seriously though, this place is way bigger than it looks. And after you get past the main stairs and corridors, it's like a maze. Even the library, when you showed it to me yesterday, was all twists and turns and hidden corners."
"It's all fun and games, until you're five and get lost. Then it's actually scary."
"How long did it take them to find you?"
"About an hour. After that, there were certain doors I wasn't allowed to go through. Not until I knew my way around."

They arrive back at the library door. Quinn wishes she could stay, and keep talking to Santana, but of course she can't. Unless ...

"You could come in, and we could sit together? The place I was sitting meant that the others couldn't see me, but I could see them. Of course, you don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”
“I’ll come in. As long as you promise not to let me get lost.”
“I promise.”

The room is considerably louder, than when Quinn was last in. She’s thankful for the extroverted personality of Brittany, who can get a conversation out of a brick wall. She takes her seat again, and Santana sits across from her.

“So, how many people are here?”
“Ten. Eleven, if you include me.”
“And are they all royal?”
“All but one. My father invited her. She’s rich though, which makes up for it.”

The party ends, which is signalled by her mother entering the room. Santana is already on her feet by the time Judy sees her daughter.

“Lucy Quinn. I hope that you didn’t hide here the whole time.” She hisses, then looks to Santana.
“Miss Lopez. I trust that you were shown around, and don’t hesitate to ask me or my daughter for anything else.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I was just coming to see how the meeting was going.”

Then Judy goes over to the rest of the group. Quinn stays where she is, and only catches a few words of her mother’s speech. However, she does hear the phrase “see you all again soon”, which causes her heart to sink.

They leave, everyone saying thank you to her. Sugar tries to hug her, but Quinn takes a step back- not deliberately, she’s just not a huge fan of physical contact, least of all from someone she doesn’t know- and she settles for an arm pat.

Sam shakes her hand, and gives her a meaningful look. “It was so great to see you, Lucy. I really hope we can see each other again soon.” He says, then leaves.

Brittany and Tina are last to leave, their arms linked together.
“Always the perfect host, Quinnie.” Brittany jokes, and rolls her eyes when Quinn folds her arms.
“I’m only joking. You did well.” She says, hugging her. Tina gives her a hug as well, but it’s shorter than Brittany’s.

Then the library is silent, apart from her breathing. And Santana’s, of course.

Chapter Text

Quinn thinks that Santana really is very pretty.

They've been in the library for a while now, enough time for the sun to sink a little lower in the sky, and the castle to get a little colder before the heating was turned on.

There's not one thing she can choose to base her beauty off of. No, it's something else. It's in the way she talks, and smiles, and tilts her head slightly to the side when she's listening.

Quinn knows now that Santana does not like books, but she loves music, and she has never left Lima but wants to travel around the world.

Santana knows that Quinn loves to read, and also loves music, and has no clue what she wants to do when she leaves home and goes to college.

It's safe to say that they are friends. Not best friends, but Quinn doesn't have many friends, so perhaps that title is enough.

Their conversation draws to a close.
"Have you seen my room?" Quinn asks. Santana shakes her head.
"Not yet. Miss Holliday said that you would probably want to show it to me" she replies.

Quinn silently thanks Miss Holliday in her head.
"Yeah, sure. Let's go then, before you have to go back home."

They leave the warmth of the library, and go into the cooler, darker corridors. Quinn pulls her cardigan closer around her, and Santana does the same with her cheer jacket.

Santana never quite gets over how quiet the castle is. Nobody ever seems to shout, or knock things over, or make any noise. She decides to say this to Quinn, who shrugs in response.

"It's very quiet. But I like it. Me and my parents, we're not particularly loud people. When my siblings are here, it's really noisy. When you see that, you'll understand why I prefer the silence."

Santana thinks that she quite likes Quinn's little world, of quiet rooms and books.

"So, this is my room." Quinn introduces, pushing the heavy door open. Santana follows her in, and then stops. Because she wants to have this room.

It's exactly like something out of one of the fairytale books she used to read when she was younger. Which makes sense, since Quinn is a princess living in a castle.

The bed is white, with golden embellishments. It has a white canopy with fake- at least, Santana thinks they're fake- flowers, pale pink roses and daisies intertwined.

Her windowsill faces the back of the house. It's clustered with plants in colour coordinating pots, completely obscuring the window frame. It's as if you could step outside and be in the garden.

All the furniture matches, white with gold.
The carpet is a dusty pink, and Santana feels as though she should have taken off her shoes, for fear of getting it dirty.

And the bookshelves. Santana is surprised they even have books left in the library, judging by how tightly packed the shelves are.

Quinn hovers in the doorway, nervous about having Santana in her room. Brittany has been in there quite a lot, Tina a handful of times. But that's it. When she has family over, she locks the door, so that nobody comes in.

"Your room is beautiful. My favourite part is the plants on the windowsill. Do you take care of them all?" Santana asks, turning to Quinn. She takes in the slightly anxious expression on the girls face, before it's brushed away and replaced with an easy smile.

"Yes. They're hardest to look after in the winter months, but in a couple of months, they'll all be in bloom." Quinn tells her, coming to stand beside her.

The room is beautiful, Santana thinks, and she would love to have it. But there's still something not quite right. It seems almost too perfect, like a movie set. It's not dusty or anything, yet it doesn't really feel lived in.

"What's your room like?" Quinn asks Santana.
"Uhm, it's a lot smaller than this. And it's in the attic, so the roof is all weird and sloped. The walls are black, and I've got loads of posters and pictures up. My bed is like, never made, and I've got like ninety different blankets."

To Quinn, that sounds like heaven. Part of her wants to show Santana her real bedroom. Maybe then, Santana will understand Quinn more, and see that she's not just the princess with a pink room and pink dress.

Quinn doesn't realise that Santana knows Quinn is a lot more than that.

"We could go back down to the library?" Quinn offers when she thinks that Santana is done with seeing her room.
"Sure. I might even pick a book. It feels wrong to be somewhere so full of literature, and not even open a single novel."
"You don't have to read if you don't want to."
"No, I think I want to."
"Really? We can go get a drink on the way." Quinn tells her, leaving the room with Santana beside her. They come to a stop on the ground floor, and Quinn walks through to a huge kitchen. Everything is polished, and white or marble. Quinn goes over to a coffee machine and gets a cup, then looks to Santana.
"Coffee or tea? Or I've got cold drinks in the fridge, if you'd prefer that."
"What are you going to have?"
"I think I'm going to have a cappuccino."
"I'll have a cappuccino as well, if it's okay."
"Of course." She lifts down another cup, and starts to set up the machine.

Santana watches as she makes them the coffees, even swirling the milk so it makes a heart on the top of them both.

"Wow. That's so cute. Is the machine yours?" Santana holds her cup in both hands, waiting for Quinn to finish tidying up the splashes of milk on the countertop.
"Yes. I got it for my birthday last year. Let me know how it is, I've not made one for anyone else before. Brittany isn't allowed caffeine, and she doesn't like the taste anyway. And my mother and father prefer tea."

Santana takes a sip, the liquid burning the end of her tongue. But pushing that aside, it tastes good. Better than the cheap stuff she buys at the coffee shop in school- it's student run, and possibly the biggest mistake her principal made.

She decides that she's going to tell Quinn about it. The other girl seems to enjoy hearing about Santana's high school, and how everything seems to be falling apart.

They get to the library. A fire has been lit, and it fills the room with warmth. Quinn leads Santana over to what she has now realised is the princesses favourite table and chairs. They sit down their coffees, and go to choose books.

"So, what kind of books do you like reading?"
Quinn asks, as they go from shelf to shelf. Santana notices that she already has a few in one arm. And they look like smart-girl books. So she feels slightly embarrassed when she says "uhm, just teen books I guess. I like John Green."

She wills her brain to work, but she can't think of what else. She really doesn't read a lot. As in, she's read one John Green book.
Okay.
Half of a John Green book.

Quinn sees that Santana is lost for words, and pauses, turning to face her.
"What do you look for in a book?"
"What do you mean?" She's given up with trying to appear smart. It's obvious that Quinn is infinitely more intelligent.
"So, when I read books, I look for a female protagonist who's got a mission. It doesn't matter how bad or small the goal is, or how messed up the protagonist is. I will fly through that book."
"I like books about love." The words leave Santana before she can think about it. Quinn tilts her head to the side slightly, encouraging the other girl to go on.
"Any kind of love?"
"Yeah, I guess. Especially if it's between two teenagers. It can be platonic, or romantic. Just the idea of caring for someone so much, that you would do anything for them. Even when it ends, and they're not together, I love them so much, yet I hate them."

God. That was embarrassing. She didn't mean to blurt out all that shit. She laughs nervously when Quinn nods.

"God. I guess you can tell that I'm single." She says, trying to backpedal. And she's surprised when Quinn shakes her head.
"No. I couldn't tell at all." The words sound sarcastic, but the tone is sincere. And when Quinn picks a book off the shelf and hands it to Santana, she accepts it, looking at the cover.

"Let's go sit, and read. You can tell me what you think. We can look at this as your literary education." Quinn tells her, as they sit down. Santana takes a sip of her coffee, and opens the first page of her book.

A few hours later, Santana is halfway through the book. Quinn has finished hers, and is making her way through the second one. They've not spoken since sitting down.

Miss Holliday walks in, and smiles when she sees the two girls reading.
"Girls? Sorry to disturb you, but it's time for Santana to go home." She apologises. Quinn sees that Santana has actually read the book, and feels a warm glow inside her.
"I'll leave this here." Santana says, about to close the book. Quinn shakes her head.
"No. Take it."
"I couldn't. It looks brand new. I'll crease it."
"You won't. Here." Quinn takes the bookmark out of her book. It's one she painted herself, with flowers of all different colours dotted up and down the piece of card.
"I can't take your bookmark."
"It's fine. I've got a new one."

Holly watches the interaction and tries to hide her smile. The Princess is actually talking to someone new, and they seem to be getting on well. That's all she could ask for.
Queen Judy will be pleased.

"Girls, this is lovely, but Santana does need to go. Her car is outside, and Lucy, your mother wants to speak about today." Holly tells them, gently taking the bookmark and handing it to Santana.

"I trust you, okay?" Quinn tells Santana, and steps back. Santana slips the bookmark into place and holds the book closer to her chest.

"I'm glad we sorted that out." Holly says, walking to the doorway. Quinn and Santana follow her, and pause. The front door is one way, and Judy's office is the other.

"Bye, Santana. Thank you for coming today. Let me know what you think of the book. You need to finish it before you come back, so that I can get you another book." Quinn says. Santana nods.
"I'll try. See you later."

And then Santana walks towards the front door with Holly, and Quinn walks along to her mothers office.

Judy has drawn the curtains and lit candles, making the room warm and inviting. When Quinn steps inside, she's hit with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon.

"Lucy, close the door. You're letting the heat out."
Her mother orders, looking up from her papers.

Quinn takes the seat in front of her mothers desk, clasping her hands. She already knows this conversation will end in sharp words and/or an awkward silence, so she's not too worried about what either of them say.

"Lucy Quinn, I just want to check how you found the meeting this afternoon.”
“It was fine.”
“I’m going to need you to elaborate. You know ‘fine’ doesn’t tell me anything.” Her mother takes off her glasses, setting them on the desk in front of her.
“I had a nice time. We all, uhm, talked to each other. I learned their names and ages. They seem like really nice people.”
“I’m glad. Did you stay there the whole time?”
“I went to the bathroom, but that was all. Also, Sam Evans?” When Quinn mentions his name, her mother looks at her.
“What about him?”
“Who is he? He introduced himself to me, and claimed to know me from a long time ago.”
“Yes, that’s correct. His mother, Delilah, lovely woman, is an old college friend of mine. And her husband was away one summer, so her and her son, Samuel, came to stay here.”
“Sam said that. I kind of remember him.”
“You two were thick as thieves. Practically joined at the hip. You shared a room, and built a treehouse out in the garden and called it your castle. You were devastated when he went home.”
“How old was I?”
“Six or seven, I think.”
“Hmm. Okay.”
“Was it nice to see him again?”
“It was, I guess.”
“I know that you’ve just turned sixteen, and I said that I would try not to put any pressure on you for this particular situation, but-“
“Mother, please, no-“
“-what would you think about Sam as a future husband? It makes perfect sense.”
“Mother, you know I don’t want to talk about this until I’m closer to marriage age.”
“I had already become engaged to your father by the time I was seventeen.”
“That’s because it was the seventies.”
“Less of the attitude.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m not saying that you need to get engaged. However, Sam would be a suitable candidate. He’s handsome, a childhood friend, his family are lovely. That’s the three main factors in looking for a future spouse.”
“I barely know him.”
“Then get to know him. Love isn’t something that just happens. You need to work for it, and make it happen.”
“Who said anything about love?”
“I did. I know you think that marriage is old fashioned, and loveless, but that’s not true. There is love in it.”
“I didn’t say there wasn’t love. I didn’t say anything about that, or marriage.”
“It’s just something to think about.”
“M’kay.”
“Don’t mumble.” Judy’s tone is sharp, and Quinn just nods obediently.
“Okay.”
“Shall we have the same meeting again next week? I’ll send out the invites. The parents of the children were pleased with the idea.”
“Yeah-yes, that’s fine.”
“That’s all I needed to talk to you about. You are excused. And Lucy?” Her mother calls her to attention, just before Quinn exits the room.
“Yes, mother?”
“Thank you for making an effort with Santana. I appreciate that you weren’t quite on board with the idea as first, but you seem to be getting along quite well.”
“She’s really sweet. We read in the library this afternoon, and I showed her my room.”
“That’s nice.”

Quinn leaves. Apart from the whole marriage thing, the conversation actually went better than she had expected. At least, it ended on reasonably good terms.

Sam does seem nice. And Quinn’s not sure if she’s into guys, but she might as well make a friend out of this whole thing.
And if her and Sam end up being more than just friends, then at least her mother will be happy.

———
Hours later, on the other side of the city, Santana closes the book. And wipes the tears that were rolling down her cheek.
Fuck. That’s a good ending.

Chapter Text

It's five days before Quinn gets to see Santana again. She doesn't leave the castle at all. Brittany asks her over, for dinner and a movie with her and Tina. Quinn tells her no, that she's got a stomach ache.

They both know it's not true.

The truth is that Quinn is exhausted after having such a busy day. But she's not tired in a way that she yawns a few times. No, she lies awake the whole night afterwards, thinking of everything she did and how it could have gone, and how it looked to the other people, and what they must think of her. When she does finally close her eyes in the morning, the sunrise already visible through the gaps in her curtains, she only gets a few hours of sleep before she's woken.

Even then, fully awake, it's as if her bones are made from lead. She can't get up. The light shining through her blinds does nothing to encourage her to rouse. Neither does her mother walking in, opening the blinds and telling her that she needs to "get up, tiredness is a state of mind, not body".

She nods, and makes like she's getting up, then lies back down once her mother leaves. Only venturing out once, for dinner, her day of recovery is very pleasant.

Her father and mother go on a trip, for a week, to visit a town or new school opening or something. So Quinn is left in the care of her sister. Franny visits each morning, making sure that Quinn is still alive, then appears again just after dinner, though Quinn doesn't know why. It's not as if she needs to be read a bedtime story.

Quinn was never scared of the dark as a child. She preferred it, actually. In the darkness late at night, she was hidden, and free. She liked how quiet it was. She could disappear into it.

Brittany hates the dark. She still needs a nightlight to get to sleep. Quinn and Tina are the only ones who know this, and have been sworn to secrecy on it.

So Quinn loves being the only one wandering around the castle in the dark, late at night, even now she's sixteen. Holly has a bedroom on the ground floor, which is out the way of Quinn's nightly route.

Quinn believes in ghosts, but she's still to meet one. Which is a shame, and also doesn't make sense, since a big old castle is the ideal place for ghosts to congregate. When she was younger, she would write stories about the ghosts that she was convinced lived around her. But her mother told her to stop, since ghosts were verging on witchcraft and the Fabray's do not tolerate that kind of thing.

She listens to music as well, when she's wandering around. Her playlists are an eclectic mix of classical and indie-pop- think going from Tchaikovsky and sad violin solos to teenagers and sad guitar solos.

The only problem with her little late night walk around are her headphones. They're earphones, and broken at almost every angle. She has to twist the end around, until it lets the music play.

You may ask why she doesn't have AirPods, since she's rich. She doesn't have a good answer. She just doesn't want to ask her parents, and anyway, she likes the security of her earphones. But she doesn't like having to carry her phone around with her, holding the plug in place.

Tonight is a good night, though. She managed to get the wire at the right angle on her first try, so the music is playing with only a slight crackle. And it's clear outside, so when she walks to the end of the corridor and looks out the huge window, she has a view over the whole city, and beyond that, the moon.

Absent-mindedly, she wonders whereabouts in the city Santana lives. It's not an especially large place or population, yet it has shops and museums and cathedrals, but also schools and suburbs and parks.

The two high schools are both called William McKinley, as they used to be the same school. All teenagers from across the city were sent to the same place. This caused problems.

Not only was the school barely big enough, the richer kids were tutored in their free time, meaning that huge gaps emerged in the class grades, and it was harder to get into college.

So Quinn's parents had a big meeting about it, with the principal and the Director of the board of education, and also a bunch of other smart people. The conclusion reached was this: the school would separate into two different buildings, with different teachers, and a different principal. One school would be a private school: parents paid fees every year for their kids education, and in return they would receive the best supplies and opportunities.

The other school would be for children of the poorer areas, who's parents couldn't afford exorbitant school fees on top of everything else. They would still teach the curriculum, but the supplies wouldn't be as great as the other school, neither would the teachers.

But since the original school was called William McKinley, nobody could decide which school would get the name. So they were both called William McKinley on official documents, but the private school was known as William McKinley, and the other one known as just McKinley.

Quinn spent three months at William McKinley, when she was fourteen.
She hated every second of it.

Those months, of scratchy skirts and high pitched laughs and hockey out in the cold rain, seem like a bad dream now.

Brittany doesn't go to William McKinley, she attends a fancy dance school. Tina goes to William McKinley, but she spends most of the time in the music practice rooms, or going out for lunch in Lima.

Quinn still has her uniform hanging up in the back of her closet.

A siren jolts her out of her dream. She's still looking out the window. On clear nights like this, the sound travels easily through the air. She finds the blue flashing lights and follows them through the streets and houses.

They come to a stop in Lima Heights. Arguably the most dangerous area in Lima. It was built to encourage new families to move to Lima, before the city became so affluent. But the cheap prices and distance from a police office made it, let's say, more popular amongst the illegal job owners. Gangs, drug dealers, fighting. All found in the same corner of Lima.

Maybe Santana's from there. She seems confident, and Quinn thinks it would take a lot to intimidate her. She would be indifferent to any illegal activities or danger. For all Quinn knows, she's the leader of them all.

Brittany would really like Santana. If she had the energy, Quinn would arrange for them to meet, and for Tina to come over as well. For the first time in her life, she could have an actual group of friends. And it could be fun.

But who's she trying to convince? Santana only spends time with her because she's being paid to. As for Brittany and Tina, it's almost definitely a pity thing. Or they are also being paid, by her mother, so her daughter doesn't look like an antisocial loser.

Nope. Don't even think about that. It's not a nice thought, and hopefully not true.

The lights have stopped now, and her playlist has come to an end. The world is quiet again.

Or rather, Quinn's world is quiet again. Life is noisy elsewhere, making itself known in the scream of a lovers argument, or the wail of a baby crying, or the excited shriek of a girl finding out the boy she likes, likes her back. But Quinn's tiny universe, compacted into these walls, is completely silent.

Then the music plays again. Fireworks go off, celebrating some unknown event. Quinn imagines what it would be like to be down there, in the noise and crowds, smelling the smoke and all her senses being overtaken by the neon stars high in the sky above her.

She's not sure she would like it, but it would be an experience that she would remember.

It's moments like this that Quinn is glad she doesn't sleep. Night time is when everything interesting happens. If she was in her bed, then she would be missing out on this beautiful celebration of human life.

She steps back from the glass, and continues to wander down the corridor. It's cold in the castle corridors at night, and Quinn has dressed accordingly. Flannel pyjama pants, and a pair of fluffy socks. Next is a soft cotton singlet top, and over that is one of her brother's hoodies, with his college sports team emblazoned on the back. She's not close to her siblings to the point where they wear each others clothes, but this hoodie is really soft, and warm, and a nice shade of blue.

She's also got a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, like a cape. And when she sits on the windowsill, tucking her knees in front of her, she pulls it over her folded legs.

She narrowly missed knocking over an old photo frame. Brushing off the thin layer of dust, she can make out the smiling faces of her siblings.

Obviously this photo was taken many years before Quinn was born. Her sister still has the soft, round cheeks of a child, and her now-tall brothers are still short, skinny kids. They're on a beach somewhere, smothered in sun cream and clutching buckets and spades.

Her siblings feel like another planet. Quinn doesn't resent them, she just doesn't know them. They seem like a separate family, once which she grew up surrounded by, but doesn't know anything about.

She gently sits the frame back down, and looks out the window. The view is the same as it was last time, just at a slightly different angle. The fireworks have stopped. But now she can see the place they probably came from- a gap between buildings, where there's a bonfire and the tiny frames of people dancing to music she can't hear.

She can't remember the last beach holiday she went on. Her parents don't like spending too much time in the sun- they both have fair skin, which is prone to sunburn. And now they're older, and generally prefer to stay at the castle rather than going through the stress of organising holidays, and security, and what to do if something happens to either one of them.

Quinn wishes she could have met her parents when they were younger. They were a power couple- her charming yet kindhearted father, and her mother who single-handedly reversed the dumb-blonde stereotype. Her mother was an idol for generations of girls growing up- kids still choose her to do their school projects on.

People assume that her father does all the work, and her mother is just married to him. They couldn't be more wrong.

But even having Quinn did nothing to diminish her mothers influential persona. Once she announces the birth publicly, there was an overload of talk shows and newspapers, desperate to interview her. Overnight, she became the leader in a movement against stereotypes, about what age a mother should be. She labelled terms such as 'biological clock' harmful and sexist, and gave talks on what it means to be a mother, and why it has no age.

Quinn thinks that it's pretty awesome. Only her mother could take an accidental pregnancy and turn it into her latest topic, even adding it as a chapter to her memoir.

Which Quinn has read. Completely written by her mother- no ghostwriters- the memoir is a 'captivating point of view, in which the very principals of parenting and working are turned into something of beauty'(direct quote from the New York Times). It's good. Apart from the bit where her mother talks about Quinn.

It's in a separate chapter from where she talks about her other children. Which could make sense, from the 18+ years between her and the next sibling. But still. She's just as much her mothers child as her brothers and sister. For her to appear several chapters, and nearly a third of the book apart, from them, is a metaphor for how distant she’s felt from them her whole life.

But yeah. Her mother is the dictionary definition of a powerhouse. And Quinn is proud of her for it. Seriously, she is.

Francesca is desperate to follow in her mother’s footsteps- though Quinn is the only one who seems to notice. From having six children right after one another, to appearing on the same talk shows and magazine cover their mother did- Quinn’s honestly not going to be surprised if her sister decides to pop out a ‘surprise kid’ on her fortieth birthday.

But Francesca lacks the spark her mother had- it’s hard to define what it is, exactly, but it’s definitely unique. Quinn sometimes wishes she had it as well, but she’s even less similar to her mother than Francesca. The only similarities they share are blondish hair and hazel eyes.

And her brothers are definitely following in their father’s footsteps. Married with several children to wives who are probably a great deal smarter than them. It’s like history repeats itself.

Quinn isn’t sure what she’s going to be yet. She could just spend the rest of her life floating around the castle, watching as life moves around ber. Right now, she’s quite comfortable in this window seat, watching planes fly overhead and wondering where they’re going.

She could go to college, and study books. Read whatever she wants, and try to understand what the writer was feeling, what they want her to feel while reading their words. Or she could study music, and play piano. Perform, perhaps, and share her love of music with the world.

But what if she stops loving music when she shares her love? What if the books will stop holding meanings, and just become endless pages of metaphors and complex words. What if, by doing what she truly loves, the love will fade and morph into stress and sadness.

She could never do that to herself. Her love is too dear, and too powerful. Without it, she doesn’t know who she is. Without music and literature, she is nobody.

It’s with these thoughts in her head, that Quinn finally falls asleep- curled up in the window seat, her head propped against the glass. When Miss Holliday finds her in the early hours of the morning, she’ll simply sigh and shake the girl awake- not roughly, just enough to make her conscious enough to put one foot in front of the other. And she will lead Quinn to her bedroom, to a much more appropriate place to sleep rather than a window.

“What will we do with you, Lucy?” She’ll murmur under her breath, tucking the princess in. Nobody is meant to hear her, but of course Quinn hears.
“I don’t know” the princess replies.

Chapter Text

Santana arrives at the castle at the same time the King and Queen return from their trip. So when Santana steps out of the car, she's met with the whispered bickering only married couples seem to get away with.

"Russel, I mean it, you can't wear those socks."
"Why not? They're comfortable."
"You're wearing a blue jumper. You should be wearing blue socks."
"Judy, please. Nobody can see my socks."
"You're changing them the second we- Miss Lopez, Santana, hello."

The queen watches as Santana closes the door, pulling her bag further up her shoulder, then turns to face the couple.

"Good morning, sir, ma'am. How are you today?"
Charmed by her easy manners, the couple both shake her hand.

Santana is, secretly, nervous. The King and Queen are so famous, and so revered throughout the country. Everyone knows who they are. So for her to hear them arguing about socks, and be able to shake their hands and say hi, just seems so strange. But she doesn’t want them to see her as some idiot from Lima Heights. She wants them to see her as a trustworthy individual (or whatever her Abuela told her).

"We're fine, thank you. We've just returned from a short trip, to open the new public library in New York, and do some other errands."

Only the queen would describe a trip to the city to open a library as an 'errand'.

"That sounds lovely. I would love to visit New York. Do you go there often?" Santana replies, as they ascend the stairs to the castles entrance.
"Yes, a few of our offices are located there. Personally, I prefer to work from here, but it does us good to get out, and see what's happening in the city."
"Yes, ma'am, definitely."
"What do you and Lucy have planned for today? I have to say, I'm very pleased you two are getting along so well."
"We'll probably spend some time in the library. She really loves to read, doesn't she?"
"Yes. Well, I'm glad that you share her interest. It's been lovely talking to you, but I'm afraid I need to go and catch up on the work I've missed out on, the past few days."
"Of course. Enjoy the rest of you afternoon."
"And you, Santana."

Santana waits until she is well out of view of the Queen and King, before doing a silent celebration. She managed to talk to a figure of authority, and not say anything stupid or do anything that could embarrass her. Quite a feat, especially for her.

She's getting much better at finding her way around now. At least, she can make her way to the library without getting lost. And sure enough, she finds the princess sitting in her usual seat, a pile of books and magazines beside her.

"Hey, Quinn." Santana says, sitting in the chair beside her and resting her bag on the floor. Quinn turns to look at her, smiling a little.
"Hey. How are you?"

Santana notices the darker circles outlining Quinn's hazel eyes, and how she looks paler than the last time Santana saw her. As if reading her mind, Quinn runs a hand through her hair and pulls some of it down, to shade part of her face.
"Sorry, my sleep schedule's been a bit all over the place recently. That's why I look like a panda."
"You don't, uhm, look like a panda."

She definitely does look like a panda, but Santana won't tell her that. There's a fragility as well, which may have always been there, but Quinn's disguise on it is slipping.

Santana picks up one of the magazines. It's opened to a page with pictures of Quinn at her birthday party, with her siblings and cousins surrounding her.

Santana doesn't read the article; instead, she uses it as a cover, so she can observe Quinn. Because there's something off about the princess today.

"You're staring"

Oh. Maybe Santana wasn't as subtle as she had hoped she was being. But before she can make up an excuse, Quinn closes the book and looks at her properly.

"Or you're just really interested in the feature I made in the Lima Times."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to stare. You just look tired. And I was wondering if you were okay? We can talk, if you want."
"You sound like my friend Brittany. She keeps saying that we can talk. But I don't know if I want to talk. There's nothing to talk about."

Quinn's tone is bitter, and Santana feels like she's walking on eggshells. She knows that the princess is upset, or angry, or overcome with some other big emotion. So Santana isn't going to get in the way. She's just going to be here.

"I've got some schoolwork to do. Is it okay if I just work my way through it?" Santana asks, bringing her notes out her bag. Quinn shrugs, and brings her hand up to her mouth, biting on her thumbnail.

So Santana begins to write. It's an essay on a book of her choice, and so she's writing it on the book that Quinn gave her. Words bloom from the end of her pen like they've never done before, and she finds herself filling page after page.

Quinn is still quiet, the only signals of her presence being the rustle of book pages as she turns them. She regrets being rude to Santana. She likes Santana. Why is she being mean?

Maybe it's because she hasn't slept nearly enough recently, so her brain feels like it's filled with fog, and every noise hurts. The words on the page aren't really going into her brain, and she's going to need to reread this part later. When her head doesn't hurt every time she blinks.

She barely notices when Santana stands up and almost whispers "I'm going to the bathroom."

Quinn is not okay.

Santana goes to the bathroom, and tries not to let how Quinn's acting get to her. Has she done something wrong? Said something stupid, or not listened to her?

To take her mind off of it, she looks around her. This bathroom alone is bigger than the kitchen and living room at her house put together. And it's spotless- as if nobody uses it. She thinks of the tiny bathroom at her house, and how it's shared between way too many people. Quinn doesn't know how lucky she is, to be able to spend as long as she likes in the bathroom without someone hammering on the door, telling her she's taking too long.

Santana exits the bathroom, and walks straight into Miss Holliday. The papers she was carrying go flying, and as she bends to pick them up, Santana does so too, apologising profusely.

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am, I didn't see you at all."
"It's alright, Santana. And please, call me Holly."
They're quiet for a short while. Then Santana asks the question that's been bothering her.
"Is Qu-Lucy, is she okay?"

Holly straightens up, piling the papers. She tilts her head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean?"
"It's probably nothing, but she doesn't seem like herself. She's been really quiet, and I'm worried I've done something to upset her."

Holly sighs, and shakes her head.

"Don't worry. You've not done anything to upset her. The princess, she doesn't sleep well at all. She thinks that her parents and I are oblivious, but I'm not. Her parents may be; definitely her father, anyway. It's hard to gauge her mother."
"What do you mean, she doesn't sleep?"
"She's never slept well. When she was younger, we thought she would grow out of it. And when she didn't, her mother sent her to a therapist, who tried to figure out what was wrong. She concluded that there was nothing wrong, it was all in Miss Fabray's head."
"Isn't there pills or something she can take? Just to help her a little?"

Santana gives Holly the last of the papers, and they begin to walk back to the library.

"She didn't want them, and her mother wasn't a fan of it either. Now it's been eight or nine years since she last saw the therapist, and she still doesn't sleep."
"How do you know she doesn't sleep?"
"She wanders around the castle. She might go to the library, or go to a practice room and play one of her instruments. The other night, I found her on one of the window-ledges."
"Should I say anything to her?"

Holy stops, and rests her hand on Santana's arm.
"Santana, you can't mention this to her. She can't know that you know. She doesn't even know that I know all this. She'll freeze up completely if you even bring it up."
"So what should I do?"
"Just, be kind. There's a lot going on in her head, and she needs a friend. Like you. From what I've seen and heard, she really likes you. Which is rare for Miss Fabray."

Santana feels warmth rising inside her.
She's not bad at this job. Quinn likes her.

"I'll need to go give these papers to the Queen. It was lovely talking with you."
"Yeah, thanks for telling me about...it."
"No problem"

Holly winks, and then she's gone. Santana is left standing in front of the library doors.

When she returns to her and Quinn's spot in the library, Quinn is asleep, her body curled in on itself. Santana feels a twinge of sympathy: even while asleep, the princess still has a slight frown of worry on her face.

She lifts one of the blankets from the cabinet beneath the windowsill (it's probably for decoration, but that's not Santana priority right now), and gently places it over Quinn. Then she sits back down at the table and continues to write. She finishes her essay, and put it into the clear folder she uses for any important homework assignments.

Now she doesn't know what to do. She looks at the pile of books and magazines Quinn had left on the table. Why was she looking through them? She's way too smart to be reading celebrity nonsense- especially when it's about herself.

But Santana isn't too smart, and she has a secret penchant for gossip magazines. So she picks up one from the top. It's opened to the pictures from Quinn's birthday- the special feature. Santana scans the page, and finds a picture of Quinn standing with her sister.

At first they don't look alike, but then Santana notices the similarities- the same round eyes, the same shape of noses and lips. It's like someone photocopied Quinn and coloured her in differently. In the picture of her whole family, Quinn with her siblings and parents, Santana can easily see that Quinn takes after her mother, rather than her father.

Santana shared almost all her features with her mother. The same hair, face shape, eyes. People used to always tell her "you look so much like your mom!" in the same tone of voice, like this news was shocking to them.

Santana turns the page, just to find more pictures of Quinn and her family, specifically her nieces and nephews. It's eerie how similar they all look- a variation of the same, tall, red-gold haired and brown eyed child.

The library doors slam open, making Santana jump and drop the magazine. As she bends to pick it up, she can hear someone's footsteps making their way towards her and Quinn.

"Lucy Quinn Dianna Fabray, I am two seconds away from filing a missing person report. You'd better be in here." An unfamiliar voice practically yells, yet Quinn stays asleep.

The owner of the voice rounds the corner and stands with her hands on her hips, before she notices Santana. Santana, of course, recognises this girl as Brittany. Quinn's best friend.

"Oh. Hi. Sorry, who are you?" She frowns slightly, but offers her hand to Santana.
"I'm Santana Lopez. I'm the..."
"You're the companion! Of course, that makes sense. Sorry for being rude. I'm Brittany. I did have Tina with me, but she's disappeared."

Brittany fixes her gaze on Quinn, and softens slightly.
"How long has she been like that?"
"A few hours."
"God, typical. Well, I'm waking her up."

Brittany taps Quinn on the shoulder a few times. When this fails to rouse her, she shakes her shoulder, saying "Quinn, Quinn, Quinn" over and over again.

It works. Quinn opens her eyes, and swats Brittany's hand away.

"I'm awake. Wait, Britt. What're you doing here?"
She mumbles, rubbing her eyes.
"I'm checking that you're still alive. Which you clearly are, so there's no excuse for not replying to me or Tina's texts."
"How did you even get in?"
"Don't change the subject. You can't just do that. It's not fair."

As Brittany continues to chastise Quinn, Santana sinks lower and lower in her seat. This is awkward. Brittany and Quinn are best friends- at least that's what the magazines claim. Which means that they argue like best friends, going from 0 to 100 in about two seconds.

Quinn's face is going redder and redder. Santana had a horrible feeling she's about to watch her cry, which is not what she wants.

Then an angel appears.
Miss Holliday walks in, and comes to join their little group.
"Santana, that's the car ready for you. Oh. Miss Fabray, I didn't realise you were having company. I can arrange for the car to take you home at a different time, if that's what you would prefer-"
"It's fine, honestly. I've got, uhm, homework that I need to do."
"I'm sure Miss Fabray wouldn't mind you staying on for longer." Holly turns to look at Quinn, who avoids all eye contact and shrugs.
"She can go." She mumbles, biting her thumbnail again.

Oh.
Santana knew that her and Quinn wouldn't be friends the same way she's friends with Brittany, or Santana's friends with Mercedes. But still. She didn't need to be so obvious about not wanting her there.

"I would normally show you out, Santana, but I've got something I need to do."
"It's alright. I know the way."

Miss Holliday leaves, and Santana pulls on her jacket. She shoves her essay into her bag, then turns to say goodbye.

"Bye Lucy. See you, uhm, later. It's was nice to meet you Brittany."
"It was lovely to meet you too. See you again?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Bye Santana."

Santana barely even acknowledges Quinn's goodbye, and just focuses on getting out. She makes it to the corridor, and rounds the last corner that leads to the staircase, where she walks past another girl. Where are they even coming from, at this point?

"Sorry, I nearly bumped into you there." The girl apologises. Santana recognises her too-  Lady Tina Cohen-Chang, part of the golden group of royalty that most people would die to be a part of.
"It's fine."
"You haven't seen Brittany, have you?"
"She's in the library with Lucy."
"Oh god. I was meant to try and buffer anything that was said, but I took the wrong staircase and ended up on the wrong side of the castle. Did it look bad?"
"I'm not sure. Lucy seemed kind of sad."
"Perfect. Well, I need to go before a sixteen year friendship is broken. Bye."
"Good luck.”
“I’ll need it.”

Tina rushes off, and Santana keeps walking to the front door. And, try as she might, she can’t brush off the hurt she feels at being so easily dismissed by Quinn.

Maybe the princess wasn’t the sweet, shy girl she appeared to be. Maybe she’s just shallow.
Who knows.

Chapter Text

By the time Tina arrives at the library, it's almost too late. Brittany is frustrated, and when she's frustrated, her voice gets louder and she maybe says things that she doesn't mean.

Tina was meant to make sure that everything stayed okay between the two. That's the only reason she's there. Brittany is always the person to talk to Quinn about her feelings.

Tina covers other bases.

But she had noticed how Brittany had been really, really, really upset. And sometimes Brittany doesn't realise how the words she's saying can sound to others. Especially when she doesn't think them through in her head first.

Tina has learned to tune out Brittany when she's having a rant: she listens, but only when it's needed. Sometimes Brittany just needs someone to talk at, not to.

But Quinn takes everything to heart. Personally, Tina thinks she should just spend more time around other people, where there's a constant teasing and joking going on. But since Quinn doesn't ever leave her castle, she hasn't been exposed to the complex and wondrous teenage conversational habits.

Tina's presence is not very welcome. The second she arrives to join the duo, she can feel the burn of Quinn's glare. She reminds herself it's not personal: just Quinn. It doesn't help that Brittany's got her arms folded, and her eyes narrowed. Her glare isn't as good as Quinn's, but it's a definite competitor.

"Tina's here as well? Britt, why?"
"Pretend I'm not. I was just with Britt. Not part of this conversation at all."

To prove her point, Tina takes a seat and opens one of the horrific gossip magazines. Why Quinn even owns these pieces of shit, Tina cannot fathom. But she's still going to flick through, looking for pictures of her friends, and being ready to restrain Brittany if needed.

"All I'm saying, is I'm fine."
"But you're not. You've clearly not been sleeping, you don't leave this place. The one social event we were at, you hid in a corner for most of it, and actually left for the rest of it. You don't reply to anyone when they want to check up on you. I invited you over, so did Tina. Rachel even tried to  DM you on Instagram, to invite you over to her place with a whole group of us."
"That's not my fault. You know all my DM's go straight to the publicist."
"But she tried. And don't even think about defending yourself. Can't you see we're worried about you?"
"Don't be. There's nothing to worry about."
"There is. Even if you don't want to get professional help, like a therapist, you still have us. We're your friends. You also have Santana. Who you were very rude to."

Quinn's heart drops. Brittany's right. She was rude. Santana was just being her usual sweet self, and Quinn was so bitchy. She didn't even look at her when she said bye. And she said she should just leave.

"Q? You look like you're gonna vomit." Tina comments, peeking over the top of the magazine.

"Quinn. I'm sorry for yelling. But you need to understand that we're here, whether you like it or not. And we just worry about you."

Quinn nods. She doesn't say anything. But Brittany had know her long enough to tell when Quinn is sorry. She sometimes doesn't have the right words. Brittany can always tell what she means, with her little nods or head-shakes.

Brittany sits on the sofa beside Tina. Her phone buzzes, and she opens it.
'u handled it well' Tina has texted, apparently without looking down.
'Thank you! xxxx' Brittany replies. She isn't as good at texting without looking, not as good as Tina, so she needs to peek down.

"D'you want to go get snacks from the kitchen? Or I could get Holly to bring us some?" Quinn suggests, after they sit for a while.

"Or we could go get them? Brittany, you can drive now, right?"
"Yeah. I mean, I did drive us here. My instructor said that I'm improving in leaps and bounds. OMG, we should all go back to mine and sleepover!"
"Yeah! Q, you in?"

They both turn to look at Quinn. Truthfully, there are many things she would rather do. But she doesn't want to cause any more problems.

"Yeah, sure. I'll come."

When Brittany's driving instructor said she was improving in 'leaps and bounds', she meant literally. The whole way down the castle driveway, and for most of the road into the city, the car jerks forward, then stops suddenly, almost breaking their necks.

"You know what, Britt, this is smoother than the route here. You're definitely getting better." Tina pats her on the knee. She got to sit shotgun, being girlfriend of the driver and all that. Quinn is in the backseat, clinging on for dear life.

"Yeah, that's what my instructor says. I think there's something wrong with the gears." Brittany replies. To Quinn's complete horror, she starts to fiddle with the gearstick and then half the buttons on the dashboard. Even Tina starts to look vaguely alarmed.

"Hey, Britt, maybe just-"
"Sorted!" The car starts to move forward smoothly, albeit a little fast for Quinn's liking.

Brittany pulls into a huge store just on the city outskirts, and parks outside it. The fluorescent lights of the sign bathe the whole parking lot in an eerie green light, mixing with the setting sun.

"Okay. Do we have a list of what we want?" Tina asks as they get out the car. The parking lot is half empty, and badly potholed. Quinn almost steps straight into a puddle of questionable colouring, but Brittany grabs her just in time.

"Uhm, I don't know. We all know what we want, right? And I've got my dads card to pay." Brittany replies as they walk into the building.

Despite the half-empty parking lot, the store is actually pretty full. Quinn immediately shrinks behind Tina and Brittany, who are oblivious to the looks they get.

The candy isle is their first stop. Brittany and Tina run around, quite literally kids in a candy store, grabbing brightly coloured packets and handing them to Quinn. Quinn was the only one smart enough to grab a basket, and soon it's half-filled with enough sweets to cause a heart attack.

Then Brittany decides that they need ice-cream, so they go to the freezers. As Brittany searches for the flavour she wants, Quinn is tapped on the shoulder. She turns to see a guy holding a shopping basket, with a camera around his neck.

"Hello. You're Princess Lucy?"
"Uhm, yeah. Hi."
"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Alex Sloane, I'm with the Lima Insider magazine. Could I get a picture of you with your friends? Lady Tina and Lady Susan."
"It's Lady Brittany, not Susan. And I'll ask, but it'll probably be a yes."

Sure enough, they both turn and give the photographer beaming smiles.
"Of course we want a picture! Quinn, come stand in the middle."

They all look mismatched. Brittany is wearing a pink cropped t-shirt and white track pants, with huge trainers and a lilac zip up. Her hair is in a high ponytail. Tina has on an obscure band t-shirt and green and black flannel over it, with denim shorts and fishnet tights, completed with knee high buckled boots. Her hair is in two braids, with strands escaping around her face.

They stand on either side of Quinn, who's dressed in a long-sleeved black sweater, the hem of which is almost the same length as the skirt she wears under it. She's got on tights and, of course, her Dr Martens. Her hair is just brushed, and hangs in a single blonde sheet over her shoulders and down her back.

Tina wraps an arm around her waist, and Brittany has an arm over her shoulders. They're the golden trio, the three musketeers.

Quinn kind of hates herself for avoiding them, and for being mean.

But she usually kind of hates herself anyway, so it's not a big deal.

Once the photographer is satisfied with his pictures, and he's got an idea of what they're doing (though Quinn can't imagine how boring the magazine must be, if the most interesting thing they can produce is three teenagers buying ice-cream), he leaves them alone.

Brittany lifts down a container of ice-cream and sits it in the basket. Quinn also lifts a container of vanilla ice cream ("wow, Quinn, how original") Tina mutters, getting a nudge from Brittany and Quinn on either side.

"Okay. Is that everything?" Quinn tries to go to the checkouts, so they can get out of this loud, bright, aggressively cheerful hell. But Brittany's short attention span, mixed with the infatuation of her girlfriend, means they are standing beside a sunglasses display, trying them on and looking in the mirror.

"Seriously?" Quinn huffs, going back to them. Brittany just hands her a pair of red heart-shaped sunglasses.

"These are for you. Because Lana Del Ray."

Okay, Quinn supposes she has a point.
And when she tries them on and looks in the mirror, she's got to admit, they look pretty cool.

Brittany and Tina grab at least ten pairs of sunglasses between them and sit them in the basket. Then Quinn places hers back on the stand, but Brittany immediately grabs them back and puts them in the basket.

"Britt, I don't need sunglasses. It's February."
"They look good on you. And they're like two dollars. My treat."

Now with a basket full of completely irrelevant items, Quinn tries her best to shepherd her friends to the till. But they still manage to get distracted by the glitter in the craft isle, a pink TV, and a life-sized scarily realistic toy cat.

Brittany holds back on the TV, but the glitter and cat are put in the basket.

"Britt, you have a cat. A real one." Quinn tries to dissuade her from the purchase of the toy cat. But Brittany just shakes her head, and holds it closer to her chest.
"Lord Tubbington is getting lonely. Plus this is going to be shared by me and Tina."
"Our first cat! Brittany, you make me the happiest woman alive." Tina takes the cat and kisses its forehead.
"See, Quinn? Look how happy she is. You don't to take that away from her."
"Okay, get the cat. And the glitter. But I swear, if either of you try to open that glitter at any point of me being there, I'm going home. And I'm taking the cat."
Tina covers the cats ears and adopts a look of shock. Brittany copies her girlfriend. They stand there, glaring at Quinn, as she scans the rest of their items.

"Okay. Now Brittany, please pay so we can get out of here."
"Ooh, limited edition candles!"
"Britt!"

It's dark by the time they get out the shop.

The backseat is now crowded with all the random purchases, apart from the cat. She has been named Lady Tubbington, and is being held on Tina's lap.

"Could you maybe just drop me home? I didn't even bring a bag to stay over." Quinn asks, not sure if she can cope with a full night of this.

"Nope. Lucy Quinn Fabray, we are officially holding you hostage. Until you stop being all sad, and moping around in the dark."
"Harsh. But seriously, I've not got anything with me. Like, at all."
"You've got clothes at my house to wear, you can sleep on the pullout sofa or the bed in my room, and you have ice-cream to eat. What more could you possibly need?"
"We'll return you at some point. But Britts right, we're worried about you. And maybe you just need to get out of the house for a couple of days, to cheer you up."
"Fine. But if I'm still there in three days time, I'm calling my mother and telling her that I'm being held at ransom."
"Deal."

Brittany's house is on the other side of Lima from Quinn's castle. Instead of living in a castle, her parents are in a literal mansion. Which means that Brittany has her own wing and everything. There's even a dance studio there. And a swimming pool.

Brittany's parents are kind of awesome too. They believe that their daughter is the single greatest thing on this planet (Quinn and Tina agree), and do everything they can to make sure that she's happy and doing what she wants to do.

"Mom, Dad, I'm home. And I've got Tina. And Lucy as well." Brittany announces as they walk into the foyer.
"You have them? It sounds like you are holding them against their will." Her mom replies, from the next room.
"Tina wants to be here. Lucy might try to climb out of a window, but hopefully she won't do that tonight. Maybe another time." Brittany replies, sitting her keys in the dish and going upstairs.

Tina and Quinn follow, their arms full of the snacks for later. Brittany has chosen to carry Lady Tubbington.

Brittany's wing of the house is on the left, overlooking the city. The French windows in her room open out to a balcony, which had tables and chairs set out on it.

During the summer, her and Quinn would spend endless hours out there, sunbathing and eating ice-cream, discussing everything and anything.

But since it's February, the doors stay shut. They dumps the non-edible purchases in Brittany's room, and go through to the kitchen to put the ice-cream in the freezer.

They change into pyjamas. Quinn wears a pair that she had forgotten at Brittany's months ago. Tina wears one of Brittany's T-shirts, since she's her girlfriend and is trying to cultivate a collection of Brittany's clothes.

While Brittany and Tina choose a movie, Quinn sorts out the pullout bed.

"Q, you can sleep in my bed with us."
"It's fine. I think I might make it a bit cramped."
"That had better be a joke. We don't mind having you in here. It's not like we're going to be having sex or anything." Brittany says.
"Well..." Tina raises her arms as if to say 'maybe?'
"Tina, Shh. Anyway, Q, it's all cool. But if you would rather sleep in that bed, then it's fine. Lord Tubbington might come to join you, but that's it."

Tina chooses a horror movie to watch. Quinn's certain it's because Brittany hates horror movies, and will spend the whole time holding tightly onto the nearest person.

Yeah, Quinn is kind of glad she's not in the bed with them.
Even if it does look comfier than this one. And there's not a morbidly obese cat trying to break her ribs by sitting on her chest.

The movie finishes. Tina has managed to fall asleep, despite the screaming and goriness that's happening on screen.

Brittany is about to turn out the light when she sees Quinn huddled alone in the camp bed, with Lord Tubbington pawing her shoulder.

"Q, this is the final-"
"I'm coming in."

Chapter Text

Quinn doesn't sleep very well (well, what else was to be expected), but it's actually better than usual. Brittany is probably one of the factors that make it better. She's soft, and warm, and keeps one arm thrown over Quinn's waist.

No wonder Tina spends more of her life at Brittany's. The girl is a human teddy-bear and hot water bottle all in one. Plus the shampoo she uses, it smells really good. And she eventually drifts off for a few hours.

When she wakes up, the sun is shining through the gaps in the curtains. There's something pressing into her back, and when she turns around she sees that it's the stupid toy cat from the night before. Beside it are Brittany and Tina, though it's more like Brittina. They're a tangled mess of limbs and blonde hair and black hair.

The only reason Quinn knows (hopes) they haven't had sex is because they've not done at all yet, and their first time probably wouldn't be while they are sharing a bed with their friend.

They're both still asleep, or at least that's what Quinn thinks. But as she looks over them, Tina opens her eyes and gives her a half-smile.

"Morning Princess. Sleep well?" She asks.
"As always." Quinn replies, sitting up and taking a hand through her hair.

Brittany stirs, the voices possibly disturbing her, but Tina just strokes her hair, shushing her softly, and Brittany just curls in closer.

"Whipped."
"And I'm proud."

Brittany doesn't stir for a while longer. Quinn and Tina have half-conversations that lapse into an easy silence. When Brittany is awake, they all troop downstairs for breakfast, which is pancakes. The kitchen staff had made them earlier and left them on hot plates for the girls to eat whenever they rose.

Brittany puts every sweet topping on hers that she can manage, including but not limited to: the ice-cream she bought last night, chocolate sprinkles, regular sprinkles, chocolate chips, strawberry sauce, strawberries. The list goes on and on. Quinn just has syrup on hers. Tina takes chocolate spread, though she has to fight it off of Brittany, who is determined to ladle the whole jar onto her stack of pancakes.

"Jesus, Britt. That cannot be healthy." Quinn comments, as Brittany adds the finishing touches to her creation.
"I'm sorry Britt, but I'm going to have to side with Q on this one. Think of your teeth."

Brittany just shrugs and digs into her breakfast.
"These are my last days of freedom. We start our summer schedule at school this week. That means bye-bye nice meals, hello mean horrific meal plan."

Brittany's school is the most prestigious dance school in the country. And her entry is all her own work. She registered and auditioned under a fake name, so that she wouldn't get special treatment from any others. When she received her acceptance letter, it was like all her dreams had come true.

Fast forward four, nearly five, years into the future. Brittany's love of dance has only grown. But the school is strict- not with their classes, or their teachers, but with timetables and meal plans. Each year, every class has to prepare a dance to compete in these international dancing championships. Brittany's school has never lost a year. The winning streak has been passed from generation to generation.

In the run up to the championships, all schoolwork goes out the window in favour of dancing. They eat, sleep, breathe dancing for months. And then there's the meal plans, which specify exactly what each dancer is to eat at what time, in order to have the fittest, most perfect competitors possible.

"Are you guys wanting to come watch? We're hosting it this year, so you don't have to travel far. I can get you backstage tickets." She offers, taking another bite. The other two girls nod.

Quinn loves to watch Brittany dance. If she hadn't quit her dance lessons in favour of piano lessons, perhaps she would be as good as Brittany. But deep in her heart, she knows that would never have happened. Brittany has a true gift, a spark. Watching her dance is like watching a story unfold.

Quinn doesn't have that.

Tina just loves her girlfriend, and would go to all her performances. Plus she thinks Brittany looks hot in the ballerina tutu.
Really hot.

"You ok, Q? Something on your mind?" Brittany asks. Quinn nods.
"Yeah. I feel really bad about how I acted towards Santana yesterday. I shouldn't have been so rude. But I'm not sure when I'll get to apologise, if she even wants to come back."
"She'll come back. But if it makes you feel better, why don't you text her?" Tina suggests.
"I don't have her number. Or like, any of her contacts at all."
"What's her full name?" Brittany asks, going onto Instagram on her phone. She, unlike Quinn, is in charge of her own account, whereas everything on Quinn's account is run by her publicist. She doesn't even get to approve followers.

"Santana, uhm, Lopez."
It takes a few seconds of Brittany scrolling, until she finds the account.
"This is her. I'll follow her and hopefully she'll accept it."

She presses on the small blue button. Quinn takes the phone and looks at the profile picture. It's Santana standing between a boy and a girl, all of them laughing at something behind the camera. The boy is tall and has a Mohawk, and the other girl is the same height as Santana, with curly dark hair down to her shoulders. Santana's arms are around both of them, and she's leaning towards the boy.

Boyfriend? Or just boy who's a friend, Quinn wonders, as the phone is snatched back by Brittany.

"She's pretty, Q. And she seems really sweet."
She comments, looking from the profile picture to Quinn, who nods in agreement.
"She is. Really sweet, I mean. Not that she's not pretty, she is, but like..." Quinn trails off, realising that she's only digging herself deeper. Tina raises an eyebrow, but lets it slide. Brittany is too busy finishing her breakfast.

They stay chatting for a while, until Brittany's screen lights up with a notification.
"She accepted my request!" She celebrates, then slides the phone across to Quinn. The blank screen with only the 'private account' icon was gone, replaced by a grid of photos.

But Quinn doesn't have time to analyse the pictures, as much as she wants to, she has a mission to complete.

She starts to compose a message.

'Hi Santana. It's Quinn, I'm using Brittany's phone for this message. I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about how I acted yesterday. It had nothing to do with you, since you are a lovely person and I enjoy spending time with you, it was just me being stupid. I really hope we can still be friends, since I've enjoyed the past couple of weeks of getting to know you.
From Quinn x'

Quinn shows it to the other girls before sending, just to check that it's okay. They both give it a thumbs up, and so Quinn presses send.

A painful few minutes pass, during which Brittany feeds Tina a mouthful of her pancakes (Tina looks slightly ill for a few seconds afterwards), and Quinn walks around the kitchen, too nervous about the response to even sit down.

Finally, Brittany gets a reply.

'hi quinn, its fine. i get u were upset and maybe didnt rlly want to talk. i hope ur feeling better today. we r 100% still friends. s xxx'

Quinn reads it over, a smile forming on her face. Brittany watches her.

"Is it good, Quinn?" She asks her friend. Quinn nods in reply.
"Yeah. She's cool. And she said that we're '100% still friends'."
"Thank god. Okay, you're officially not being held hostage anymore. You're happy again. You are free to go home. I'll drive you now."

Quinn doesn't have to be told twice. She goes to Brittany's bedroom and changes out of her pyjamas, and into her clothes from yesterday. Brittany goes up and gets changed as well, but Tina just lies back on the bed and plays with Lord Tubbington, getting scratched in the process.

"Tina, are you coming with us?" Brittany asks, now wearing more appropriate clothes. But Tina is still in Brittany's school sports T-shirt, the hem reaching her knees, with shorts underneath. Tina just nods.
"Yeah. I'll go in the backseat though."
"Bring Lady Tubbington. Our daughter should get to see where the princess lives."

Tina looks at Brittany, trying to gauge if she's joking, but her expression is dead serious.

"Oh-kay." Tina says slowly, picking up the toy and pulling on a pair of Brittany's flip-flops. They troop downstairs and out to the car.

It's sunnier today, and slightly warmer, but there's still a chill in the air. Tina climbs into the backseat and warps her blanket around her, depositing the cat on the other seat. The novelty has evidently worn off (for Tina. Brittany is acting like it's her newborn child), and Quinn can already tell that she's plotting on how to accidentally lose the cat.

Tina insists on choosing the music, and so they listen to heavy metal screeching out of the speakers, even though it physically pains Quinn to listen. Brittany chooses next, and a sugary pop song is played, which is surprisingly almost worst than Tina's choice.

By the time they reach Quinn's castle, her head is thumping from the (bad) music tastes of her friends. Brittany leans across and hugs her.

"If you pull another disappearing stunt again, then you're coming to live with me, and I'm tying you to the bedpost." She warns.
"Kinky." Tina comments, making Quinn giggle a little and Brittany frown.
"I'll answer your texts next time. I'm leaving now, before you kidnap me again." Quinn says, but the two girls are already distracted, as Brittany lectures Tina on not holding their 'daughter'.

The castle is noisy, for once, and within two seconds of standing in the foyer Quinn is taken out by two of her nephews on scooters. They giggle and flee the scene of crime, leaving her on the floor with tyre marks across her shoe.

"Lucy, you're home! Look, your sister and brother have come to visit. Come see her." Her mother appears, tutting when she sees her daughter on the ground.
"What are you doing?"
"Two of the kids ran me over." She defends, but her mother shakes her head and waves off the excuse, choosing instead to help her daughter off the floor.

"I'll take it you spent the night at Susan's?"
"Yeah, I slept over with Tina and Brittany."
"How many times do I have to tell you, it's 'yes' not 'yeah'." Judy reprimands. Quinn's face blushes pink with irritation, and it's only heightened when she sees her siblings looking over at her, like she's a child being told off.
"Sorry, Mother."

She follows her mother through to the living room, where her eldest brother and sister are sitting, one holding a child, the other holding a large trophy.

"Hi, Lucy, how are you?" Frannie greets.
"Fine. Did you win something?"
"No, silly, it was Alexia. She came first in a singing competition. Out of all the age categories, she was the best."
"That's great. Why is it here?"
"Alexia wanted to show her Aunt and her Grandmother how well she did." Her sisters voice has a warning tone- meaning don't be rude, Lucy, it's not our fault you've got no trophies.

Quinn is desperate to make an escape, but her mother nudges her towards the sofa.
"Take a seat, and chat. Your brother and sister don't get to see you often."

So Quinn reluctantly sits down on the sofa. The child on her brothers lap is either called Celia or Cecilia- she can't remember. Or maybe there's another niece called Cecilia, that looks the same because all babies look the same.

Whatever her name is, the child looks Quinn up and down before reaching out to her, chubby starfish hands making a grabbing motion.

"Do you want to go to Aunt Lucy? Of course you do, sweetheart!" Her brother talks to the child in a faux- excited voice. Surely Quinn isn't expected to do that. She draws the line there.

The child is plopped into her lap. Already, Quinn can see the signature Fabray red hair and brown eyes visible. She holds the child at an arms length, her hands clasped around it's ribs. It squirms in her hold, putting its fingers in its mouth then reaching towards her with drool-soaked fingers.

"Uhm, please don't do that." She says quietly, holding it further away. It whimpers and opens its mouth, about to let out an ear-splitting scream. Not wanting to be dubbed a 'bad aunt' by her family, Quinn relents and brings the child closer to her, loosening her grip slightly.

Her siblings and mother were unaware of her past struggle, only turning around to see the serene sight of Aunt Lucy holding one of her dear nieces close.

"Lucy, that's a darling picture. George, quick, get your phone. If not for you, for Anita." Her sister comments, passing the phone to her unwilling brother. Quinn adopts her perfect smile, making it look like she actually enjoys holding this squirming, drooling child.

The picture is taken, and Quinn is quick to hand the child- Ceciley, it turns out is its name- back to her brother.

"I'm going upstairs, to sort my stuff out." She says, already leaving the room. As the door closed behind her she can hear her sister asking about her, in a concerned tone.
She doesn't really care, to be honest.

Once upstairs, however, she opens the door of her room to find her elders niece on the bed, scrolling through her phone.

Kitty, her red hair highlighted and dyed until it's almost blonde, and her makeup always immaculate, is Quinn's least favourite person. It doesn't help that she idolises Quinn.

"Can you please get out?" Quinn asks, before Kitty can even squeal her name.
"Grandmother said I could come up here."
"Well, I'm home now. I've got a headache. I'm going to take a nap."
She's not completely lying. Her head is aching slightly, but it's probably the aftereffects of Tina and Brittany's atrocious music wearing off.

Kitty huffs, but leaves. Quinn locks the door and climbs into her bed, opening her phone. Brittany has texted. As always, instead of sending one paragraph, Brittany has send a chain of texts, riddled with grammatical and spelling errors.

'Q!'
'Iknow how your going to talk to Santana.'
'Make a privet insta account'
'and follow me tina and Santana'
'then you can talk to her'

It's a good idea. Brittany ideas tend to be outlandish, and without sense, but this one is actually realistic.

She doesn't have Instagram on her phone, since she doesn't own her account. So she downloads it and creates her account.

Within minutes, quinn_diana16 is created and introduced to the app. Quinn follows Brittany and Tina, then finds Santana's account and follows that as well.

Santana accepts her request first.
'hey q'
'Hi'
'do u know when im coming over again?'
'the day after tomorrow i think'
'cool. can't wait :)'
'me neither :)'

Quinn texts Brittany to let her know that her genius idea worked, and receives a string of heart emojis in reply.

Then Quinn sets up the rest of her account. It's private, obviously, and she makes the profile picture one of a sunset that she took a couple of weeks ago.

Satisfied with her work, she plugs in her earphones and opens her book.

Chapter Text

Quinn can't wait to see Santana again. She buzzes around the castle all morning, and even her mother notices her change in mood.

"What's going on with you, Lucy?"
"I'm just looking forward to seeing Santana."

She manages to sit still for long enough to practice the piano, a chore that she had neglected for the past few days. She's methodical in her routine- scales, then sight-reading, then finally her pieces- and is soon finished.

The knock on the door signals Santana's arrival. Quinn is first to answer. She pulls it open, revealing Santana in the doorway, dressed in her usual school uniform and Cheerios jacket.

"Good morning!"
"Morning. You seem in a good mood." Santana replies in an amused tone. She doesn't think she's ever seen the princess in this kind of positive mood. Especially not this early in the morning. It's barely eight o'clock, yet she's bright eyed and smiling.

"I was just, uhm, looking forward to seeing you" Quinn explains as they walk through to the library. They sit in their usual place.
"You were?"
"Yeah, sorry, yes. I really feel awful about how I spoke to you the other day."
"I know, and it's cool. You like, texted me."
"I just wanted to say it in person. I know we've not known each other for long, but you've been a really good friend to me."

Quinn rarely makes these kind of emotional statements, even less to someone who she's known for barely three weeks. She hopes that Santana understands that, and how important she must be, to receive Quinn's gratitude.

"I've had a nice time with you as well." Santana replies in a soft tone, her eyes warm. Then they light up.
"Also, look at this!"

She brings out an essay, with a red 'A' written at the top.

"I wrote my essay on the book you gave me."

Quinn picks up the papers and reads the first few lines. Already, though, she can tell that Santana is a writer at heart. Each sentence flows, and it's like Quinn is reading the book for the first time.

Santana's handwriting is messy, scrawled words that blend in to one another. She writes in some sort of cursive, but rather than smooth, flowing letters, it's scrappy, scribbled letters instead.
It suits her, Quinn thinks.

Santana is watching her, head tilted slightly to the side, her expression curious.

"Is it any good? I was one of the only people who handed an essay in, so my teacher might have gone a bit overboard."
"It's really, really good. You captured the ideas of the book perfectly. Santana, you have a gift."

Santana wrinkles her nose at the compliment, but she's blushing.

Santana isn't the kind of person who is 'gifted'. She has to work hard for everything. And it pays off, she's like the smartest person in her year (not that it's difficult. Half the student body spend more time hanging around Lima Heights than actually coming to school). She's not naturally athletic, she spent months doing cartwheels and flips in her Abuela's living room, in the run up to cheer tryouts.

It paid off. She's the captain.

Usually, when someone tells Santana that she has a gift, or is talented, she shakes her head. Because she's not. It's hours of work, and time, and effort, that make her who she is. For her to accept their compliment, means she is completely disregarding all the time spent becoming a better person.

But Quinn's compliment is genuine, and she supposed she was complimenting her writing skills. So she'll accept it.

"The question is, what book will you read next?"
"I don't know if I'll have time for that. I've got all these assignments to finish, and a party to plan."
"A..birthday party?"
"No. It's for, uhm, my year. Most of us are leaving school soon. I've only got a couple of weeks left. My friend, Mercedes, she's finishing up tomorrow. There's like, two people staying on."
"Why do so many people leave?"
"To get a job. Most of the students at McKinley are from Lima Heights, myself included. There's no extra money, or trust funds. Just whatever you can scrape by on."
"Would you have wanted to go to college?"
"Yeah. I wanted to escape Lima. But I can't do that. There's no money, and I have a job, which means my Abuela can stop working."
"Really? She still works?"
"Yeah. I mean, she's not ancient- and she would chase me up and down with her wooden spoon if I said that- but she's getting older. She should be sitting at home watching telenovelas, looking after her grandkids, stuff like that."
"Is she similar to you?"
"Yeah. As similar as a woman in her sixties can be, to a sixteen year old. Sometimes I find myself saying something she would say, or repeating one of her superstitions in my head. It's scary."

Quinn laughs softly. Santana loves the quiet chuckle that the princess has, and every time she hears it, she swears the world gets a little better.

They fall into a comfortable silence, Quinn continuing to read Santana's essay, and Santana watching, trying to discern any emotions. After Quinn's face proves to be unreadable, Santana decides to look out of the window.

The weather is nice today. Hopefully it'll stay this way for cheer practice later. Even the slightest wind can affect their flawless pyramids.

McKinley might not have many positive assets, but they do have one crowing glory. The best cheer team in all of Ohio. Maybe it's down to the captain, or maybe it's down to the coach. Maybe it's even because of the student's desperation to finally succeed at something.

The point is, the trophy cabinet is empty, save for the Cheerio's trophies.
And Santana is hoping to get one more National Title, before she leaves.

"That was incredible, Santana. Does McKinley have a writing club or something?"
"Probably, but I'm not going anywhere near it. It could completely ruin my rep."
"Your rep?"
"My reputation. You don't get this far in high school without getting slushied, for nothing."
"Slushied?"
"Y'know, I forget that you're not at school. Basically, for whatever reason, McKinley is in ownership of a slushy machine. It's the most popular way for the bullies to mess with other kids."
"Do they...throw them?"
"Yep. Just go all out. Sometimes they'll even throw the cup as well, but only for special occasions."
"Why does nobody stop them?"
"The teachers don't get paid enough for that. It's fine, though. Creates a sense of community amongst the less-popular student."
"And are you a popular student?" Quinn raises an eyebrow, half joking. Santana responds in a similar tone, smirking.
"Of course. The most popular." She replies.

"Do you think I would be slushied?" Quinn asks a few minutes later.
"Hmm. It's hard to tell. You're pretty, so that would definitely be a plus. Depends who you hung around with. I would guess you would maybe be slushied once, but only by association. You're too quiet to irritate anyone, so it would be down to the people you hang out with. Unless you stuck around with me."
"You would protect me?"
"Of course I would."

Quinn realises that Santana called her pretty around the same time that Santana realised she called Quinn pretty. A quiet panic ensues with both girls. They don't make any eye contact with each other; Quinn pretends to look over the essay, while Santana looks out the window again.

They stay in these positions until the moment passes, and they feel as though they can actually look at each other again.

Quinn is the first to look. She's desperate to salvage the situation in some way.
"What do those letters on your arm mean? C. C?"
"What letters? Oh, right. 'Cheer Captain'"
"Wow, you're the cheer captain?"
"Yeah. Not to brag, but we're actually pretty good. It's the only club at school that has ever won a title."
"Because of you, I suppose."
"Obviously. Why else?"

They're disturbed by Quinn's mother entering. She looks panicked. This is unusual. Judy Fabray is always in control.

"Lucy, there you are! I got my times confused, and you're supposed to be having an acquainting party this afternoon. In less than half an hour, to be precise."
"We could cancel?" Quinn suggests, but the expression on her mothers face tells her this isn't even an option.
"No. We will not be doing that."
"I mean, there's not a lot of work needed to get ready for it."
"The room needs to be prepared, you need to get ready- there's no way you can wear that. And in future, when you leave the house, please wear clothing that is appropriate for a spontaneous photo. I saw the picture of you, Tina, and Susan from the other night, and I'll admit, I was disappointed. You weren't dressed correctly."

Quinn, who had been standing up during her mothers spiel, getting ready to leave, stops. Her arms cross her stomach, and her head ducks slightly downwards. Through the strands of blonde hair, Santana can see the redness creeping up Quinn's neck.

"I could come and help you pick an outfit. That's part of my job, right? To help Q- Lucy, get ready for stuff?" Apart from the slight stutter over the princesses name, Santana exudes confidence.

The queen nods. She'll admit, she was slightly apprehensive about hiring her, considering where she's from, and how young she is. But she's had nothing but positive reviews so far- even from Lucy, who usually doesn't take well to new people.

So she gives the girl a beaming smile.
"That's correct, Santana. And I'm sure that Quinn would appreciate some advice."

The snide comment doesn't go unnoticed by either Quinn or Santana, but they don't acknowledge it. Instead, Santana just turns to Quinn.
"Shall we go?" She asks quietly. Quinn nods, and they leave the library.

Quinn doesn't say a word until they get to her room. Even then, she still doesn't speak. She just opens her closet doors, and starts to lift out items of clothing.

"I saw the photo, y'know." Santana says. Quinn stops her frantic rummaging, but doesn't turn around yet.
"And...?" Her voice gives away any fear she had been trying to hide. She likes her outfit, as much as she liked her offending outfit from a few days ago. She doesn't understand why her mother is constantly complaining about her appearance.

The truth is, each time her mother comments on how Quinn dresses or acts, Quinn can feel herself getting more and more distant. One day, their fragile bond will be broken.

"And I thought it was a really nice outfit. It suited you. You looked really pretty." Yes, Santana has called Quinn pretty twice in one day, and she's beyond caring. All she wants is to see Quinn smile, and not look like the world is pressing down on her shoulders.

To her dismay, the complete opposite happens. She hears soft sobs, and a quiet whimper. Leaning to the side, she sees past the tilted doors, to where Quinn is pressing the heel of her palms into her eyes, shoulders shaking.

She's crying.

Quinn can't believe she's crying in front of Santana. She's not a pretty crier- she looks more like she's laughing. But her mothers snide comments, combined with Santana's kindness, in enough to push her over the edge.

She knows that she's putting Santana in an awkward position, and if she could then she would stop the tears. But she can't.

"Quinn, is everything okay? Do you want me to get Holly, or your mom?" Santana questions.
"No!" Quinn almost yells.
"Please, don't get anyone. I'm fine." She says seconds later, in a poor attempt to reassure Santana.
"Okay, I won't get anyone. Don't worry."

Quinn takes deep breaths, and tries to stop the tears from running down her cheeks. Movement behind her makes her spin around, and she's met by Santana. The other girl had decided to check on her, see if there was anything she could do.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just seeing if you were okay."

With a strangled sob, Quinn throws herself at Santana, wrapping her arms around her and pressing her face into her shoulder. The force almost makes Santana topple over, but she rights herself, and gently holds the sobbing girl.

"It's okay." She whispers.

Quinn's hair tickles the backs of her hands, and sh runs her hands through them, comforting the princess. Her tears form a damp patch on Santana's shoulder. But Santana doesn't care.

It's impossible to say how long Santana holds Quinn. They stay there for a while after the sobs subside, Quinn only sniffling occasionally. Her chin stays tucked into Santana's shoulder, her hands still holding her tightly.

"I should, uhm, probably start getting ready." Quinn eventually pulls away. She wipes the areas  under her eyes, getting rid of any stray tears.

"You're not going to cancel it? You seemed pretty upset."
"My mother wouldn't let me. The crying was my fault, for being over-emotional."

Quinn steps back and looks through her clothes again. Santana helps, though she's not sure what she's looking for.

"Sorry for swearing. I wasn't thinking, and it just sort of slipped out."
"Honestly, don't worry about it. I've heard people swear before. My friend, Tina, she's said much, much worse."
"Okay, that's cool. I was kind of starting to worry that it would mess things up. Between us."
"Santana, you're my friend. Accidentally swearing while comforting me, that isn't going to ruin it." Quinn replies, lifting out a few different outfits, the taking them over to her bed.

"What one?" She asks, as Santana comes to stand beside her.
"I don't know. They're all so nice. I'm guessing that pink is your favourite colour?"
"Yeah."
"Can't say I'm a fan. Last time I wore pink, it was a bridesmaids dress for my aunt. Hated it. Not worn it since."
"What's your favourite colour then?"
"Red. You don't have a lot of red stuff."
"My mother says it washed me out."
"I think it would look amazing on you. But I guess your mom knows what suits you."

Quinn wants to tell Santana how wrong she is, and how her mom doesn't really know anything about her. But Santana's already talking again.

"I think this outfit would be nice. The little hearts are cute." She says, pointing to one of Quinn's ensembles. The outfit in question is a top and skirt, and Quinn isn't sure if she's worn it before. The top is white and short sleeved, with little dark-pink hearts patterned over it, and the skirt is short and pleated, the same shade as the hearts.

"I've got hair slides that will match perfectly." Quinn tells her.
"I'll, uhm, close these doors and get ready." She lifts the outfit up, and takes it into the closet- which, to be fair, Santana thinks is bigger than her whole bedroom.
"I can help you do your hair, if you like?"
"Yes, please. I'm awful at doing my hair, especially when it comes to putting clips or braids in it. It never looks even."

Quinn dresses quickly, aware that she's running out of time before the people arrive. When she comes out the closet (no pun intended), Santana has reordered her clothes.

So Quinn sits down at her dressing table, and Santana is behind her. Soft hands twist the front strands of her hair into two loose braids, and she uses the heart hair slides to pin them back.

Quinn applies some light makeup, just to cover up the fact that she was crying. She turns to Santana for approval. The other girl nods.
"Perfect."

Chapter Text

Quinn and Santana leave the room just as the Queen comes to get them. She looks up and down the outfit, and then to the girls.

"Lucy, you look lovely. Santana, thank you for your help. Your friends should be here soon, Lucy, so I would suggest that you to to the library or to the front door, to greet them. Santana, I can arrange for your transportation back home, unless Lucy wants you to stay?"

Santana's not sure what to expect, since Quinn is maybe feeling sad, and doesn't want Santana to be around again. So she's surprised when Quinn turns to her, resting her cold hand on Santana's forearm.

"Could you stay? Even if it's just for a little longer, please?" Quinn pleads. Santana nods.
"Of course. Ma'am, is that okay?"

The queen observes the two girls in front of her, her daughters hand still on Santana's arm.
Perhaps Miss Holliday is correct. Perhaps they are friends.

"Of course." She says, even offering a smile to confirm her support. She doesn't miss the gratitude in her daughters eyes, a look that is getting rarer and rarer with each passing day.

The trio walk downstairs together, where the Queen goes to her office, and Santana and Quinn continue down to the foyer. Miss Holliday is there, awaiting the arrival of the other royals (and Sugar).

"Morning, girls, how are we?" She asks.
"Good, I think." Quinn replies. And she means it.

The stupid party is the same as before. Also, Quinn is going to need to figure out a better name, because a party suggests something entertaining and joyous, which couldn't be further from the horror she is experiencing.

Tina and Brittany are on the other side of the corner that the whole group have congregated in, and Santana excused herself to go to the bathroom a while ago (she probably climbed out a window and ran while she still could).

So Quinn is sandwiched between Rachel and Finn, who have began dating in the just-over two weeks since Quinn saw them last. She would be okay with this, if they didn't keep kissing and mumbling things at each other. On her other side is Sugar, but she's not as annoying, not since her squeal ruptured Quinn's eardrum, rendering her deaf in her right ear.

But then Brittany calls Sugar over to show her a video on her phone, and Sam takes the opportunity to slide into the seat next to Quinn.

"Hey."
"Hi."
"How are you? You look, uhm, pr- nice, that's a cute, no, nice top. I like your top."
Quinn feels bad for Sam, who's face is flushed pink by the time he makes it to the end of his statement. He's almost as awkward as her.
"Thank you. I like your shirt."

He blushes again (seriously, this must be how Quinn looks all the time. She didn't realise it was this obvious) and pulls on the collar.

"I'm not a fan. But my mom made me. My sister picked out the colour."
"How old is she?"
"My mom? Like forty something. I think."
"I meant your mom."
"Oh. Right. She's eight. Her name is Stacey."
"So there's Stacey and Sam. Nice theme."
"My brother is Stephen, but we call him Stevie for short. He's nine."
"I admire your parents commitment to the letter 'S'."

He doesn't say anything after that, and Quinn starts to think that she's made things weird, he finds her weird, he's going to get away from her at the first opportunity...

"Are you dating anybody?"

Woah. Not expected at all.

"No. I'm not."
"Okay. I'm not dating anyone either."

He looks her in the eyes for a little too long, and there's a sinking feeling in her stomach. She doesn't want to get ahead of herself, but she's seen this happen in movies and books. And it's not going to happen to her.

"I need to go. To the bathroom."

Her exit is possibly the fastest she's ever moved- she's out of that library before anyone can notice. Apart from Sam, of course, who just looks a little perturbed at the disappearance of the princess.

Maybe he was going to ask her out. That's none of your business.

Once out in the cool corridor, she rests her head on the wall, groaning quietly. Footsteps make her spin around, but she relaxes when she sees Santana walking up, looking guilty.

"Q, you good?" The nickname doesn't go unnoticed, and Quinn nods.
"I guess. I just had to escape."
"That bad, huh?"
"I think I was about to get asked on a date. Or maybe not, but there was a lot of eye contact and a little talk of relationship statuses." Quinn sighs and sits on the windowsill, her feet hovering a few inches off the floor. Santana gets up beside her, a sympathetic expression on her face.

"Well, do you like him?" She asks.
"I don't know. I barely even know him."
"Sometimes that's the best way." Santana jokes, but one look at Quinn's face tells her that it's not the time, or place, or possibly person.
"I'm joking, Q. Well, if he asks, then just say that you don't know him well enough. Though that could encourage him further. I don't know, boys are freaks."
"And you're still single? How, you're so charming and kind towards them." Quinn quips, and is met with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, well, the train wreck that is my dating history is not something to be copied. Or even talked about."

Santana will never fail to fascinate Quinn. The princess now wants to hear about each of Santana's relationships, each one told in her sarcastic monologue that makes it seem like Quinn is there, experiencing it for herself.

But Santana is like that with everything she says, so detailed and descriptive. Quinn has never seen McKinley High, yet she's sure she could navigate her way around, based entirely off of what Santana has told her.

"Are you going to go back in?" Santana eventually asks. Quinn shakes her head.
"I don't want to. Are you?"
"Probably not. Sorry for disappearing, I was helping Miss Holliday with some things. Since my probation period is officially over, there was a bunch of paperwork I had to sign. As of today, I am officially working here as a companion of Princess Lucy Quinn Diana Fabray."
"Congratulations. As your first job, you have to figure out an escape plan for me, because I really, really don't want to go back in there."

Santana nudges Quinn with her shoulder, the act more endearing than irritating.

"Couldn't you go and sit with Tina and Brittany. Maybe being with your friends will make it bearable, just until it's over."
"I've got three hours left. Even if it is 'bearable', that's still a long time."
"Damn. I don't think I can help with that."
"Then you're fired."

Santana rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, and Quinn gives her a small smile, just to show that she's joking.

"Are you sure you're okay? You seemed pretty upset earlier."
"Yeah. Just an, uhm, moment of weakness."
"What about the other day, you were upset. You can tell me if I'm reading too much into it, and you want me to stop, but are you okay?"
"Mhm. There's just a lot going on, and sometimes I get overwhelmed by it all. You're just the unlucky person that saw it." She ducks her head slightly, letting her hair cover her face. Santana's realised that she does this when she's nervous.
"Well, if you ever need anything, then I'm here. And you can text me if I'm not here." Santana's tone is sincere, and Quinn gives her a grateful smile.

"Thanks. I usually mostly cope with it myself, since it's not as bad as it seems, but thanks. It's good to know I have you."

They sit in silence for a short while. A burst of laughter comes from the library. Quinn groans again, resting her head in her hands.

"I'm going to have to go back in there eventually, aren't I?"
"I'm afraid you are. You're the princess. Social gatherings are supposed to be your thing."

Quinn takes a breath, and stands down from the windowsill. Santana drops beside her, dusting down her skirt, and they stand at the doorway of the library.

"Are you coming in with me?"
"I wish I could, Quinn, but I don't want to abandon Miss Holliday. She's probably wondering where I've gone."
"Oh, right. Yes, you should probably do that."
"But how about I come around here in about an hour, and if you need an escape, you can come out here and we can have another chat."
"Deal."
"But you might find yourself having a nice time. Who knows."
"No chance."

Upon entering the library, she's met by an organised chaos. The group has separated a little, and it's easy to see where the friend groups are going to develop. Finn and Sam and Artie are talking in a corner, while beside them, Kurt and Blaine are listening to Rachel talk. Sitting in Quinn's chair is Sugar, with Marley, Brittany, and Tina in the chairs across from them. Each small group is talking amongst themselves, with the occasional burst of laughter.

Quinn doesn't want to integrate herself into any of the people. It's not like anyone noticed her coming back into the room. So she goes to sit in a different place. She usually wouldn't choose this area, since it's a little too dark, and she can't see the door. But it's further away from everyone else, and so it's perfect.

Or so she thought. Her solace is gone when someone clears their throat, drawing her attention to the edge of the bookshelf, where the boy stands.

Kurt is his name, and Quinn can already tell that he's got a thing for Blaine.

"Hey, can I sit?" He asks. She doesn't reply straight away, and he sits anyways.
"You know, out of everyone here, you're like the biggest mystery. I've dedicated my time to researching each person here, generating a fact file on each. Yet I have next to nothing on you. No wild dating history- no dating history at all, no controversial friends, no vaguely offensive posts. Not even anything that a trashy magazine could turn into a story." He acts as if this is a tragedy, that his stalking is perfectly normal and it's her fault that she doesn't project her life all over the place.
"I'm sorry?"
"It's just weird. You're the princess. Either you have a really good PR team, which I don't doubt, or you're just really good at hiding."
"I'm just a private person."
"Well, I would love to solve the mystery of Princess Lucy Fabray. You should start hanging out with us more. I know Rachel can be kind of loud, and Sugar is obnoxious, but we're mostly very nice people."
"Mhm."
"I'll take your ambiguous response as a yes. I'm having people around to my and Finns house in a few days. When I say people, I mean everyone here. And I would be honoured if you made an appearance. I'll send you the address."
"You and Finn live together?"
"Yes. Our parents are together. My dad, his mom.  Wait, did you not know? You are so out of the loop. It's decided then. 6:30 at mine. I'll make sure Brittany and Tina bring you."

He walks away, though the better word may be sashay, leaving Quinn alone with her thoughts.

Is she hiding? Yes, she supposes, she is to a certain degree. But only because she doesn't want rumours circulating, rumours that are fake and completely untrue. It took Brittany weeks to live down the rumours that she was dating some random kid from her school, almost ruining their friendship completely. And then there were the rumours that Tina was a vampire, with some magazines actually claiming to have evidence, which was just ridiculous.

So, really, is it that bad that Quinn doesn't put her whole life in the public eye? She's the Princess. People already know who she is, and what she's going to do. Why can't she hold onto that last shred of dignity?

Then there's the subject of the arrangement for her to attend this ghastly hangout at Kurt's house. She's not even sure she likes the boy that much, after he confessed to stalking her and berated her for not sharing her secrets.

But he's going to tell Britt and Tina, who will probably force her along. Maybe going will appease her mother, and possibly stop her from hosting these acquainting parties so frequently.

Ugh. So many thoughts, and none of them welcome. She's got at least two and a half hours left of this hell, and she's not sure she's going to make it.

Half an hour later, she goes out to the corridor where Santana is standing, as promised. She takes one look at Quinn's face and puts a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh.

"Having fun?"
"No. I don't want them here. I've been invited to a party, and found out I have a stalker. Is it that bad that I have nothing on social media?"
"Woah, a stalker?"
"Not in a creepy way. In a nosey way."
"Oh. Right. No, I don't think it's bad that you don't have anything on social media. I mean, I only really post when I'm with my friends. It's the same three people in every picture. Sometimes four, but rarely."
"And they're all your friends?" Quinn asks, thinking of the boy with the Mohawk who Santana seems so close to. Granted, she was only looking at the profile picture, but still.
"Yeah, why?"
"I don't know. Also, I've been invited to this party get together thing." She changes the subject. Very smooth, Quinn, good work.
"You should go. Will there be alcohol?"
"I don't know, does it make a difference?"
"Uh, yeah? When people are drunk, or tipsy, or even a little buzzed, they're the most fun."
"And are you the most fun when you're drunk?"
"No comment. As far as you know, I'm a well-behaved upstanding citizen who's never taken a drink in her life."
"I'm sure that's exactly right."

The doors open, and Brittany and Tina stand there, arms crossed.

"Quinn, seriously, hiding again?" Brittany says, raising an eyebrow.
"I was in there, I'm just taking a break."
"We're not here to tell you off." Tina says, nudging Brittany "we were just here to ask if we can hang out here after. Brittany's car is getting repaired, since she drove it into a tree."
"I thought there was a squirrel on the road."
"Yeah, that, and her parents said that they couldn't arrange for a car to collect us because their other driver is on holiday. So we figured out that we would camp out here for a bit."

Quinn glances to Santana, who's looking at the other girls like she's about to laugh, mixed with slight confusion.

"Yes, you can stay, of course. Santana, would you like to stay as well?"

Santana can feel their eyes on her, and she looks away, and out the window. The blue skies and sun from earlier have been replaced with clouds and rain. Not ideal weather for cheer.

"I was meant to have cheer practice, but it's not looking likely. But then there was meant to be a meeting. Give me a sec, and I can try call it off, but only if you want me to stay."
"Of course I do. It'll be cool. You can get to know Brittany and Tina."
"I'll call now."

Santana pulls her phone out her pocket and wanders down the corridor, talking to the person on the other line.

"Yes Bree...no, have you seen the weather...it's being used for A.A tonight...I'm not doing the meeting either. Something came up... I don't care.... Look, if it's that upsetting, then I'll give you my Stix voucher...yeah, the ten dollar all you can eat one...uhm, it's at my house...fine, don't skip double geography. I'll get it for you...okay, yeah, love ya."

She hangs up, and turns around, the smile she was trying to hide has broken free.

"I called the co-captain. She took a bit of persuading, but it's all cool. I can hang out with you guys. Once I run home and get the payment."
"Run home?" Quinn asks. Santana nods.
"Yeah, you've got two hours till this is done, right? Plenty of time."
"Isn't it pretty far?"
"I'll make it."

She goes down the corridor, presumably to ask for permission to leave. Once she's out of sight, Quinn turns to Tina and Brittany.

"I like her." Brittany says. Quinn nods.
"Yeah. Me too."

Chapter Text

Santana is good to her word. As Quinn says bye to the last of the guests, Santana appears through the door, waving hi. Quinn thinks that she looks remarkably put together- apart from her slightly messier hair, and flushed cheeks, she looks the exact same as when she left.

"Hey, Q, I made it!" She says, walking through the doors. She looks from side to side.
"Are your friends still here?"
"Yes, they're in the library. You must have ran really fast, to make it. Plus there's a hill. Several hills, actually."
"I'm a Cheerio. My coach would have kicked me off the team if I couldn't manage a few hills."
"I think that would have killed me."
"You're not an athlete?"
"Not even close. Any time I try a workout, I have to quit halfway before I collapse. Even doing Just Dance with Brittany gets me winded."
"Damn. Well, if you ever feel like it, I'm always going out on runs. You could come with me. There's some routes that are really pretty."
"I'll keep it in mind, but you would probably have to carry me for most of it."
"Deal."

Their conversation is interrupted by Brittany and Tina leaving the library, arm in arm.

"Quinn, can we go up to your room? I think I left my earrings up there." Brittany says. Tina looks more concerned than the other girl.
"The heirloom ones? Brittany, you need to look after those ones."
"Yeah, I know."

Their voices fade as they go up the stairs.

"Are you sure that you want me to stay? Like, you don't want to just hang out with your friends."
"You're one of my friends. Plus, Brittany and Tina are so close, I feel like I'm third-wheeling their friendship."

Santana laughs softly, and Quinn realises that she's changed out of her earlier clothes, into a sports uniform. Perhaps a cheer uniform, that's the logical answer. It's red, black, and white, with a sleeveless top and very short skirt. 'WMHS' is emblazoned across the chest, and Santana has even changed into white sneakers and socks.

She looks really, really, incredibly pretty.

"I like your, uhm.." Quinn gestures to her outfit.
"My cheer uniform? Thanks. I think I'm gonna miss it when I leave."
"You don't get to keep it?"

They walk up the stairs together. Brittany and Tina's voices are gone completely, and Quinn assumes that they've found their way into her room.

"No, it gets reused for the freshmen cheerleaders that join next."
"Oh."

As Quinn expected, the other two girls are already in her room. Brittany has found the missing earrings and puts them in, then goes to look out the window and at Quinn's plants. Tina turns on the TV and sits on the bed.

"Wow guys, make yourselves at home." Quinn mutters. To Santana, it sounds like she's irritated by the girls, but that couldn't be further from the truth. She loves her friends, and all their strange, admittedly annoying, quirks.

She sees Santana hovering in the doorway, holding tightly onto her bag.

"Come and sit down. I think Tina is choosing a movie, so I hope you like horror. You can leave your jacket on my chair if you want." Quinn says, trying to make Santana feel welcome. It must work, because she deposits her things on the chair in front of Quinn's dressing table, and perches on the edge of the bed.

Brittany turns to look at Santana, as if just remembering that she's there. Quinn watches as she examines her, and prays that Brittany doesn't say something wrong. It's not that she's mean- and there's nothing to be mean about when it comes to Santana- she just has no filter. At all.

"Wait, you're a Cheerio?" She asks. Quinn can't figure out how she knows, she's never really spoken to Santana before.
Oh. The uniform. Of course.
"Uhm, yeah." Santana's tentative.
"You guys are, like, legendary. We had to learn one of your routines at school, and it was impossible. What position are you?"
"Flyer."
"Yeah, that makes sense, you're like tiny."
"Santana's the captain." Quinn interjects. A blush starts to spread up Santana's cheeks, hard to discern, but definitely there.
"What, you are." She says. Santana's expression is hard to read, but she seems pleased that she's getting noticed for her position.
"That's really cool." Brittany compliments, then turns back to argue with Tina on the movie.

Santana shifts back towards Quinn, who's resting with her back against the head board, watching her friends.

"You're blushing." Quinn comments. Santana's quick to shake her head.
"Nope. I don't blush."
"You do. And you just did."
"Whatever. You didn't have to say that. About me being captain. I can talk to people."
"I know. You're probably better at it than me. But Brittany and Tina can sometimes be a bit full on. Especially Brittany. I thought if I broke the ice a little bit, then you could do all the rest of the talking."

Santana's watching Quinn talk, a smile playing on her lips. When Quinn is aware of it, she frowns.

"What? Did I say something?" She worries.
"No." Santana reassures her. She's about to continue her sentence, but they're both interrupted by Brittany.

"Guys, can we listen? Thank you. Your options for viewing are The Blair Witch Project, or Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again." She announces. Quinn looks at Santana, then at Brittany.

"Britt, what kind of choice is that?"
"It's a compromise."
"Brittany, it's not." Tina says. "A compromise would have been if we agreed on a movie that combines our tastes."
"Oh. Right."

And that's how the four girls end up watching Scary Movie. A satirical horror movie that is unbelievably problematic, and shouldn’t really have been made.
It's probably more horrific than The Blair Witch Project.

At some point Miss Holliday appeared with a raft of snacks and drinks. They have a makeshift picnic on the floor, since there's no way Quinn is going to let crumbs get in her bed. No, she doesn't really sleep there often, but still.

Santana still hasn't totally relaxed. She keeps glancing at the other girls, who are unaware of how their presence is making her feel. But Quinn notices.

It's strange to see the usually confident girl be so unsure. But cute.

Quinn taps Santana's hand, causing the other girls head to snap around. Brittany and Tina don't notice, they're too busy watching the awful, awful movie.

"Are you okay?" Quinn whispers. Santana nods.
"Mhm. I'm just gonna go to the bathroom." She replies, standing up and tiptoeing around the bowls and other debris on the floor.

She leaves the room, and Brittany pauses the movie almost immediately.

"Okay. So. Is she okay?" She asks. Quinn is about to ask what she's talking about, but Tina joins in.
"Yeah. Q, the girl has barely spoken a word."
"She's just a bit nervous, I think."
"Of us?" Tina is incredulous.
"Yes. And I think that she's just trying to figure out where she stands."
"So, should we try to get to know her more?"
"Maybe. I don't know. But give her time."
"Of course."

They change the subject, talking instead about Tina's upcoming exams. She's confident that she's going to pass: her predicted grades are the highest of her class, and she's been studying as much as she can (when she's not with Brittany).

When Santana returns, though, Brittany changes the movie onto a reality TV show, and turns the volume down low.

"Santana, we've realised that we barely know you. And me and Tina would really like to get to know the person who Quinn didn't immediately hate upon meeting."
"Rude." Quinn says.

Santana looks a little like a deer in the headlights, but she blinks and it's gone. Her confidence is apparently back. She sits down, crossing her legs and looking at Brittany and Tina.

"Well, I'd like to get to know you two as well." She replies.

"So, Santana, you're sixteen?"
"Yeah. Turned sixteen a few weeks ago."
"So did Quinn."
"My birthday is the day before hers."
"Cute."
"What about you? How old are you?" Santana asks Tina.
"I'm sixteen. And Britt is nearly seventeen."

The conversation continues, focusing on the small topics- age, school, hobbies. Quinn lets the talking fade into the background, as she watches the sun slowly sink lower and lower in the sky.

By the time she tunes back into the conversation, it's taken a completely different turn.
"And do you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Friend with benefits? Talking stage?" Tina asks. Santana shakes her head.
"Nope."
"Really? You're like, so pretty though." Tina says. Quinn gives her a nudge, trying to tell her to chill, but the other girl pretends to ignore her.
“Have you dated anyone?” Brittany asks. Santana nods this time. Quinn will admit, she’s listening and interested now.

“Yeah. For about a year, last year. He’s one of my best friends.”
“And you broke up?”
“Yeah. We’re better as friends. He’s an idiot. In the best way, but still an idiot.”
“Is he hot?”

Santana wrinkles her nose.
“Ehh, I guess. He definitely thinks he is. He’s got this whole Mohawk situation, which gives him the biggest ego possible. But he’s a sweetheart, and like I said, one of my best friends.”

Quinn isn’t sure how to take this news. She can’t imagine Santana being someone’s girlfriend, least of all some guy with a Mohawk and giant ego. She seems too good for that.

At least they’re not together anymore.

“What about you, Tina? Are you dating anyone?”

Tina shrugs. This isn’t the first time that she’s been asked this question. And obviously she won’t be giving the truthful answer.
“What do the magazines say?” She asks. Santana tilts her head to the side.
“They say a lot of things, but obviously I don’t believe them.” She replies. Tina gives her a proper smile, and then looks over to Quinn.
“You were right, Q. She’s a good one. And to answer your question, yes I’m dating someone. But I can’t tell you who. Not yet.”
“That’s cool. I wasn’t sure if you would be allowed to date, given that you’re famous and stuff.” Santana replies. Tina hesitates, almost visibly thinking things over, then replies.
“My parents don’t know. At all. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

Santana then turns to face Brittany.
“Are you dating anyone?”

Brittany shakes her head.
“Nope. Like Tina, I’m not really meant to. Plus I’m really busy.”

If Santana knew about Tina and Brittany, the way Quinn does, she would have known to watch Tina’s face. She would have seen the light in Tina’s eyes flicker, and her smile falter slightly. She would have witnessed sadness and frustration passed over the other girls face in less than a second.

But of course Santana wasn’t watching Tina. She didn’t know to. She was looking at Brittany, who held eye contact, not daring to make eye contact with Tina. And she didn’t see any real emotion pass over Brittany’s face. Just a hint of regret, perhaps, but nothing more.

Of course Quinn saw it all happen. And she squeezes Tina’s hand subtly. Just a gesture to show that she’s not alone. By the time Santana turns back to look at Quinn, her comforting hand has been retracted, and she’s biting her thumbnail instead.

In some ways, Quinn wishes that she could join in on this conversation. She’s sixteen years old, and the only type of relations she has to her name is the occasional make out session with her best friends girlfriend. But she can’t bring that up, because the aforementioned best friend and girlfriend are in the room with her, and she has no doubt that Santana will draw the wrong conclusions from the situation.

The subject of dating is abandoned, and Brittany begins talking about music. Tina joins in after a while. She’s slightly quieter than earlier, but that could be blamed on tiredness, rather than her girlfriend not acknowledging their relationship.

Santana is more relaxed, as she chats with Brittany about the concerts she wants to go to, and the concerts Brittany has been to. If there’s something Brittany loves as much as dance, it’s going to a concert. She has all the tickets stuck on the walls in her room, with backstage photos of her and whatever act was performing.

Brittany was always begging Quinn to come along. And Quinn would always politely decline, until she decided that she had to grow up. So she said yes. Quinn went along to the next concert. They were about thirteen, maybe fourteen. It was fun, until it wasn’t. Quinn could feel the people pressing in from all sides, screaming and singing and jumping. Her hand was safely tucked in Brittany’s. Then she was gone.

Quinn had felt like her chest was about to burst. She couldn’t breathe. There were so many people. And none of them were Brittany.

One of their security guards found her. She was at the edge of the crowd, curled up in a ball and hyperventilating. Brittany had been looking for her for nearly an hour, he said, and she was almost hysterical. Quinn had felt so guilty. Or she would have, if she was able to breathe.

Brittany came home with her. In the back of the car, she didn’t let go of Quinn’s hand once.

That was when Brittany realised that Quinn wasn’t just shy. It was far deeper, and way more complex than that. She would never forget the image of her friend, tear stained cheeks and messy hair, her thumbnail bitten so much that the soft skin from underneath was exposed.

Quinn never went to another concert again. Brittany never asked her. It was just how things were. It was better, and safer, for both of them. And when Tina started hanging around with them, she went to the concerts, while Quinn would stay at home and listen to her own music.

Brittany isn’t going to mention any of this to Santana. Instead she offers a ticket for the next concert she’s attending, and a backstage pass. The other girl refuses it at first, but Brittany is insistent. She likes Santana. The girl is funny, and confident, and if Quinn likes her, then she must be the best thing in the world. And she would like to spend some time with her.

Miss Holliday knocks on the door.

“Girls, sorry to disturb you, but this is Santana’s last chance for her car home. Unless you want to stay the night?”

Santana is surprised when Quinn nods.
“Yes! Santana, you should. Tina and Brittany are staying over. You’ve got a room ready.”
“I’ve not got anything to change into.”
“I’ve got lots of spare clothes that I can lend you.”
“I guess I could stay…I’ve not got school tomorrow. As long as it’s not any inconvenience.”
“Of course it’s not, honey. Maybe phone your grandmother, and let her know. Is there anything else I can get for any of you?”

They all say no thank you. Santana leaves the room to phone home. The tension between Tina and Brittany from earlier is gone, and they get the nightclothes that they now keep at Quinn’s, since they’ve had many an impromptu sleepover.

Santana comes back in. She gives Quinn a double thumbs up.

“All cool?” Quinn asks.
“All cool.” Santana replies.

Chapter Text

Quinn hands Santana a pile of nightclothes, all immaculately folded.

"There's some different things in there. It does get really cold in here at night, just warning you, so make sure you're dressed warm."
"Thanks Quinn."
"It's no problem. Uhm, Brittany and Tina are in the room next door to you. If you need anything at all, just come and ask me."
"I think you've got everything covered."
"Mhm." Quinn is trying to think of anything else she needs to say. The only people who ever stay over are Brittany and Tina, and it would be insulting for her to give them a tour or tell her to 'ask if they need anything' (They don't ask. They just take.).

Santana carries the clothes through to the bathroom, and gets changed. Keeping in mind what Quinn said about the temperature dropping, she pulls on loose black cotton shorts, and a black long-sleeved pyjama top that's patterned with stars.

She would usually sleep with two braids in, so her hair doesn't get too tangled during the night. However, having two braids in makes her look like a five year old, and that's not the look she's going for when she's hanging out with these cool, pretty, shiny girls.

So she opts for one braid, even though it makes her arms ache as she reaches around. Pulling it over her shoulder, she twists the strands until the end, then ties it off with the hair tie on her wrist.

Looking in the mirror, she winces slightly. She doesn't look bad, but she doesn't look great either. It's not the clothes (they seem brand new, but still don't quite fit), or her hair. She just feels really out of place.

Stepping back out into the corridor after washing her face, removing her makeup with the bottle Quinn lent her, she finds Brittany and Tina talking quietly. They're both wearing William McKinley High sports shirts, and Tina is wearing long pants. Brittany is in shorts.

She has really nice legs. Santana is pretty sure Quinn mentioned that Brittany was a dancer, and it's obvious to see. The tan must be fake, though. It's been grey and cloudy for months, with nowhere near enough sunlight to get the bronzed colour Brittany has.

Neither girl notices her. They keep talking in soft tones. Tina reaches for Brittany's hand and squeezes it. Santana barely makes out 'I'm sorry', and she can't hear Brittany's response.

There's obviously something going on. A tender moment between the two. Santana's not one to make assumptions, but there's a possibility that the two girls are slightly more than friends. And she's not talking about being best friends.

She turns to go back, but the floorboards beneath her creak and she catches the attention of both girls.

"Santana, you okay?" Tina calls out. Santana nods.
"Mhm. I was just going to bed."
"Okay. Sleep well."
“Thanks. You too.”

The room she's been assigned to sleep in, could probably fit her own room in it three times. The walls and furniture are a plain white, the floor pale wood with a few white rugs. A tv sits on a chest of drawers in the corner, and the window shows a view onto the town. The sun has sank well below the horizon, and it's almost completely dark outside.

She turns on her phone, to some messages from her friends.

cedes- Santana Diabla Alma Lopez
cedes- Are you sleeping in a CASTLE?????
cedes- I need a room tour
cedes- now
cedes- also I've got your chem hw
cedes- you got 100% bitch
cedes- fuck u

From her other friend, is just one message.

puck- steal me smth

Shaking her head, she tunes her phone off and sits it on the bedside table. She lies on the bed. It's a fancy mattress as well, probably memory foam or some shit. Her own mattress is a health hazard, with springs that point in every direction, and that clatter whenever she moves.

The castle is already much colder. You'd think that the royal family would be able to afford central heating. Maybe the castle itself is too old to be updated. That's why there's several blankets in the cabinet beside her bed.

She should be able to sleep. But whether it's the different surroundings, or the ungodly amount of coffee she drank this morning (all-nighters for studying are not practical), she can't sleep.

After tossing and turning for what feels like hours, but is probably only a few minutes, she's faced with another problem.

She needs to pee.

Like, really, really needs to pee. Not a hold-it-until-the-morning kind of pee. No, this is a I-need-to-go-now-or-I-will-have-an-accident.

She stands up, unsteady. Checking her phone, it turns out she was actually tossing and turning for hours. It's just after midnight.

Standing out in the corridor, she is faced with another problem: she can't remember where the bathroom is. Quinn did give her directions, but she can't remember them at all.

There's still light coming from under the princesses door. Maybe she's still awake. Santana decides to try her door first, and if she turns out to be asleep, then she can ask Brittany and Tina.

So she knocks the door. It's not closed over, and opens effortlessly as her knuckles connect with the solid wood. As it's open, she looks in.

The room is empty. Quinn's bed looks like it's been used, with the duvet rumpled and two of the pillows on the floor. There is, however, no sign of Quinn.

She's not on the window seat either, or at the dressing table. She's not there.

Santana tries not to jump to the worst conclusion (which is that Quinn has been kidnapped and/or being held hostage). Maybe she's at the bathroom, or in Tina and Brittany's room?

So Santana closes the door over, and waits in the hallway. Quinn wasn't wrong when she said it gets colder- it's freezing. She wishes she'd put on the pyjama pants rather than these shorts.

She keeps waiting, and still no sign of Quinn. She even checks in her room again, but there's nobody in there. With panic settling in her stomach, she decides to go to Tina and Brittany.

Their door is closed, but when she knocks, a voice calls her in.

Brittany and Tina are in a room identical to hers next door. They're both in the double bed: Brittany facing away from the door, curled on her side, but Tina is sitting up on her phone.

"Is everything okay, Santana? You look really worried. Are you homesick?"
"No, it's Quinn. She's- she's not in her room. Or anywhere else."
"She isn't?" Tina purses her lips, but she doesn't look surprised.
"I think she's been abducted." Santana says. The word sounds so much scarier, more grown-up, now it's out.
"Mhm. I don't think she has been."
"Then where is she?" She demands.

Tina's lack of concern is frustrating. But she picks up on Santana's panic.

"Take a deep breath, and then we can go and find Quinn, okay." Tina swings her legs out of bed, hissing a swear under her breath when they make contact with the cold floor.

They go back across to Quinn's room, and Tina doesn't even knock. She just pushes it wide open. Quinn still isn't there.

Tina strides to the wardrobe doors (is she hiding in the wardrobe?, Santana wonders) and raps hard on them with her fist.

A few minutes pass. Santana questions how sane Tina actually is.

Then the doors open, and Quinn steps into the room. A huge wave of relief washes over Santana, followed by confusion.

"I'm going back to bed. Q, explain why you were hiding in the wardrobe to Santana." Tina exits.

Before Quinn can explain, Santana holds up her hand, stopping her from talking.

"I'm dying to hear your explanation, but I'm about to pee myself. Where is your bathroom?"
"To the left, down the hallway, third door on the right. Do you need me to show you?"
"I'll make it. Be back in a sec."

Once Santana has relieved herself, she finds her way back to Quinn's room. The princess is sitting on her bed, crossed legged. She's wearing a heavy blue hoodie with a sports team on it, and flannel pyjama bottoms, with fluffy socks.

Up close, Santana can see how without makeup, Quinn's eyelashes are non existent. They're tiny and a pale gold colour, catching the warm light from her lamp.

"Okay. Tell me why you were hiding in a closet." Santana asks, hovering beside the bed, unsure if she's welcome to sit or not.

Quinn hesitates.

"I think it would be easier to show you."
"Fine. Show me."

Quinn stands up, and goes to the closet. She opens it, and Santana takes another opportunity to wish that she had this many clothes (and the space to store them). But she's being led to the back of the closet, where the wood panel indicates the end.

Except Quinn pushes one, and almost the whole wall is dislodged, and opens.

"What the hell?" Santana murmurs. The door opens onto a room, dim and freezing. The room is small as well, barely big enough to fit them in.

"Remember how you asked if there were secret passages in the castle?" Quinn says. Santana follows her to a stone staircase, which leads to a light at the top.
"Mhm."
"I said no. Which was kind of the truth, because they’re not secret. At least, not with me and my family. We all know about them.”
“And you…spend your evenings sitting on these cold stairs?” Santana questions, skeptical. Quinn shakes her head, and pushes the half open door fully open. The light that Santana could see from the bottom of the stairs is sourced from in here.

It takes her eyes a second to adjust, but soon she can see that it’s a bedroom. Furnished in soft, warm colours and fabrics, and with a tv playing a programme. This is, undoubtedly, lived in.

“I don’t get it. Is this your room as well?”
“Yes. I prefer it.”

She seems more comfortable, Santana notes. Even her hands, which are usually curled tightly into fists, are relaxed.

“Please, sit down.” Quinn asks, sitting on the bed. Santana joins her, leaning against the headboard.

“What’re you watching?” She asks.
“Modern Family. Sitcoms, like this one, help me go to sleep. Even if I’m watching them, it’s like my brain is just switched off.”
“I get that. I love watching Gordon Ramsey Kitchen Nightmares when I can’t sleep.”
“I’ve not seen that.”
“You’re missing out. Though I feel kind of bad, I only enjoy the ones where the restaurant is really, really bad. Like, beyond help.”
“I’ll need to try that next time.”

The two girls fall into silence, watching the tv. Or, Quinn watches the tv. Santana does her best to scan the room without moving her head. It doesn’t take much effort, since it’s a small space, and she’s in full view of it all.

It’s more personal, that’s for sure. There are pictures of Quinn with her friends, and books piled up beside the bed. So. Many. Books.

It’s immaculate as well, but it doesn’t feel quite as sterile as the room downstairs.

Quinn’s soft chuckle snaps her out of her analysis of the room. Santana loves Quinn’s laugh, as endearing as it is rare.

“So, what was this room? I mean, back in the day, what was it used for?” Santana asks when the episode finishes.
“It was most likely servant quarters- a bedroom, probably.”
“Oh. So if this is a few hundred years ago, this would have been my room?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure. For what it’s worth, I really don’t see you as a servant. Or anything like that.”
“Then what do you see me as?”
“A friend. My friend.”

The next episode starts, and neither girl continues the conversation.

However, Santana places her hand on top of Quinn’s, gently squeezing it. And Quinn takes it. And she doesn’t let go.

~~~
The next thing Santana knows, she’s awake with a bitch of a sore neck.

“Sorry.” Quinn hisses, standing up, “I tried to get up without waking you.”
“S’fine. What time issit.” Santana mutters, not fully conscious.
“Six A.M. I’m going down to the library. You’re welcome to stay here-“
“I’ll go back to my own room. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can walk you to your room, if you give me five minutes…”
“I’ll go myself. Don’t rush. I’ll see you soon.”
“Oh. Okay. See you soon.”

Walking downstairs on unstable legs, Santana manages to get through the wardrobe and back to Quinn’s room. As she goes to her own room, she meets Brittany, who is also fully awake.

Brittany looks from her, to Quinn’s bedroom, where Santana has just come from.

“So she finally showed you?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank goodness. I’ve been telling her to do it for ages.”

Their conversation is cut short as Santana reaches her bedroom and goes in. Despite having just woken up, she’s still tired. And her bed looks warm, and the room is still in darkness. Really, it would be a crime not to get back in her bed.

The next time she sees Quinn, it’s several hours later. All four girls (Brittany and Tina are still there) sit at the table, eating cereal and drinking teas and coffees.

Quinn looks radiant, even though Santana pretty sure she only slept for a few hours. Her blonde hair is loose over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a green jumper that makes her hazel eyes seem more green than ever.

Santana takes a sip of the coffee in front of her, and looks up to meet the same hazel eyes. Even though Brittany and Tina are having another childish bicker, the room seems silent when Quinn looks at her. She smiles, and it’s like time goes into slow motion.

Then she looks away, and the moment is lost.

“So, Santana, what did you think of Quinn’s room? Pretty cool, huh?” Brittany asks. Santana nods.
“I love it. Seriously, I wish it was mine.”
“Me too. I wish I lived in a castle as well, so I would have funky old passages and secret rooms. My house is new, and it’s so boring.”
“Brittany, you have a pool.”
“I would rather have a cool secret bedroom. Lord Tubbington has nearly drowned in that pool several times.”
“She’s talking about her cat, incase you were wondering, Santana.” Tina adds.
“Ah. I see.”

Later that afternoon, after Santana and the others have left, Quinn is in the library talking with Miss Holliday.

“I mean to ask, Lucy, how was it having Santana to spend the night?”
“It was great. I’m really, really happy that she’s my companion.”
“Do you see you two becoming friends?”
“I think we’re already friends, Miss Holliday.”

Chapter Text

Santana's last week of school comes around faster than she expects, and she finds herself walking into the building on Monday, feeling an incomprehensible amount of emotion.

It's a shithole. McKinley is not a pretty school, nor is it good at education or anything. The cheer team is literally all it has.

But she's going to miss it. This is where she became the Santana she is today, and met the people who she's always going to love.

Her first class is English. It's almost empty, with only eight or so students scattered across the rows of desks. Santana sits in her usual corner, where initials have been carved into the wood beside her. At the end of the period, she's called to stay behind by her teacher, Ms. Wilson.

"Santana, honey, I just wanted to talk about the essay you submitted a couple of weeks ago."
"For the book report?"
"Yeah. Sit down, please."

Santana sits in the chair opposite the desk, trying to read her teachers face.

"In my time teaching, I've taught this book to every class, every year. I know it inside out. Given the chance, I could probably recite it. So, reading the same essays every year has become a boring activity, one which I dread. And then I got to your essay."
"And..?"
"And it was like I was reading the book for the first time. Your perception of the story and the characters, the language and turn of phrase you used, it was just perfect."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"That's not all. Every essay you've turned in this year has been perfect. But this was the one that had the most feeling in it. It was perfect, but it was also emotional and heartfelt, like the book itself. You really have a gift, Santana."
"Thanks, Ms. Wilson, that's really kind of you to say that."
"This is your last year of school, yes?"
"This is my last week, actually. I've got another job lined up, and I'm finished all school work."
"Goodness. What is this job?"
"I'm a companion to Princess Lucy Fabray."
"Wow. That's impressive. But this is what I wanted to talk to you about. There's a scholarship available to students aged 16 and over, for a college of your choice in New York. I would like you to apply for it."
"Why would I do it?"
"Because you're incredibly intelligent, and I think you have a very good chance of getting it. Nobody from McKinley has ever achieved it. A few students from William McKinley have, but never anyone from here. But then again, we've never had a student like you."
"I really appreciate you thinking of me like this, but I can't apply. It's not fair on my grandmother, she's worked way more than she should have, so that I could have good opportunities. It's time for me to pay her back, not run off to New York."
"Don't you think she would rather you used the opportunities she's given you, and reach your full potential?"
"I couldn't do it."

Ms Wilson sits back, and looks at the girl in front of her. She's known Santana for years, has seen her go from a rough and loud preteen to a quietly confident teenager. She feels for her, and the world around her that will always be holding her back.

"I won't pressure you. It's your decision to make. If you change your mind, though, I have the paperwork here. The application is due by the end of the week."
"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye Santana."

Later that afternoon, after Santana's last ever Monday at school is finished, she's sitting in the library with Quinn. Today, the princess is wearing a flower patterned dress, with a pale pink cardigan over the top. She's given Santana another book to read, but Santana can't stop thinking about what her teacher said to her.

"Quinn?" She says, eventually, breaking the silence.
"Yes?" The princess closes her book and looks at her.
"What are you going to do?When you're done with high school, I mean."
"I would like attend college or university, I guess. I'm not sure what I'm going to study, probably English or Philosophy. They're what I'm doing right now."
"What place would you go to?"
"Somewhere close. I'm not sure if I would be able to leave."
"Why not? Don't you feel trapped in Lima sometimes? Like, it's a dead end."
"I get that. But also, I don't do well in big places with lots of people."
"Then you could go to a small college in a small town."
"It's not that easy. I'm not very good with unpredictable situations. College is an adventure, but also very stressful and messy and I'm not sure if I could cope."

Quinn hates thinking about college. She's terrified of the future, and taking responsibility when she can barely cope with herself.

"Why do you want to go to college?" She asks Santana, changing the subject from herself to the other girl.

"Like I said, Lima is a dead end. Everyone from here, especially in Lima Heights, never leaves. It's like I'm set up to fail. Going to college means I can be who I want to be."
"I think that college would suit you. You're so confident and uhm, cool."
"Cool? I don't think I've been called cool since, like, fourth grade."

Quinn curses herself for not remembering that some compliments don't hold the same meaning they did when she was at school. She had been called cool back then. Unless it was as a veiled insult. Looking back, that's probably the case.

"Sorry."
"Don't apologise! It's cute."

Quinn nods and looks back down at her book, waiting for her cheeks to stop feeling like they're on fire. When she looks up again, Santana is watching her.

"What about Brittany and Tina? You could go to college with one of them, and live with them."
"Brittany is probably going to go to Russia or something crazy like that. For her dancing. A bunch of dance schools have already offered her a place. I couldn't go that far."
"Damn, that's crazy. To be fair, the girl looks like a dancer. Those legs are insane."
"Yes, I totally agree."
"So if Brittany's a definite no, what about Tina? You two are quite good friends, yeah?"

Quinn doesn't know how to convey the intricacies of her and Tina's relationship, so she just nods.

"I don't think Tina and I would work well in an apartment together. We're so similar, except she's very extroverted and I'm definitely not."

Quinn is kind of lying. The real reason is that Tina would feel like she has to take care of Quinn. Making sure that she's eating enough and sleeping enough and not doing anything stupid. Quinn is so bad at remembering that she has a body that needs her, it's like she needs someone else to remind her. It's too much to ask Tina to do that.

"I get that. Well, you're like, crazy smart, so you could probably go anywhere you wanted."
"And that just happens to be here, in Lima. So my parents can keep an eye on me, and I'm not totally independent. Wouldn't your parents be worried about you living further away?"

Santana shakes her head.
"I'm not really...in contact with my parents. I live with my Abuela, and to be honest, she's probably be glad to see the back of me. She doesn't like my music or my clothes or my friends. Apart from Mercedes. She loves Mercedes."

Santana goes back to reading her book, leaving Quinn to mull over this new information. She hadn't realised that Santana didn't live or talk to her parents at all.

It's a strange thought. Quinn wouldn't say that her relationship with her parents is good, but they have one. She can't imagine not having them around to tell her what to do and what she's been doing wrong. She would probably be a lot happier, as horrible as it sounds, without them adding all this pressure on to her.

Then Quinn does feel really bad about having that thought, so she reads her book until the guilt has gone.

Santana is nearly finished the book when Miss Holliday comes to tell her that she can leave. Quinn walks with them to the door.

They say the usual goodbyes, and Quinn squeezes Santana's hand before she leaves. It's enough to give Santana a strange feeling in her stomach- like she's nervous, but also really happy.

The car journey taking her into Lima Heights is fairly long, mainly because the Heights are on the opposite side of the city from the castle. The usual chauffeur is off, and the replacement is less friendly, and doesn't make any attempt to match Santana's small talk. So she just reads her book instead, and listens to the soft music playing out of the speakers.

It's easy to tell when Lima turns into Lima Heights. The buildings slowly become more run- down, with more broken windows. The stores even change, from upmarket retailers to fast-food and dollar stores. The centre of the Heights is fairly busy, considering it's a Monday evening, and the car has to slow down as people cross in the middle of the street without even looking.

The car stops a few metres away from the street (although it's more of a glorified alley) that she lives on. The dumpster at the end prevents the car from fitting in, and so she walks the last part.

The tattoo parlour is shut, with the railings pulled over the windows and door. Her apartment is above, and the window glows, emanating warmth she can’t wait to be envelopes in. It’s been a bitterly cold March.

Her key sticks in the lock, and she gently pushes it in, not wanting it to snap in the frigid temperatures. It eventually eases in, and she turns it, letting herself into the cramped foyer that smells like food and home. It’s still freezing though. It’s always cold.

Quinn’s hand was cold, when it held Santana’s. Not an uncomfortable cold, or clammy. It was just like ice, impossibly soft palms and blunt nails.

Quinn held Santana’s hand.
Quinn had held Santana’s hand.

Quinn couldn’t believe how bold she had been. She’s never been one for making the first move. Yet here she was, even breaking the barrier of physical touch, to show what she couldn’t say.

She wonders what Santana would be like, if she had grown up like Quinn. With money, and endless opportunities, and pushy parents.

Santana would have thrived. She fits this scenario far better than Quinn ever could.

But where does that leave Quinn? She’s aware that she wouldn’t survive outside the safety of the castle. If she was to talk to her mother properly, honestly, then she doesn’t doubt that the next day there would be a parade of therapists and psychologists waiting to fix her. But if Santana was to feel that way (though Quinn can’t imagine that), then who would she have?

She’s already so tired. And that’s without really having anything to do. If she was like Santana, then she’d be exhausted from fighting all the time, fighting against everything and everyone who’s stopping her from going far.

And so Quinn imagines. She thinks of another world, or universe perhaps, in which her brain doesn’t hate her. She’s not in Lima, but in New York perhaps, and the city doesn’t make her feel anxious. She sees it as a playground, or as a paintbrush, and herself the blank canvas being turned into a work of art. And Santana is her friend, but properly, as an equal. Not as a job.

And they are normal people together. Quinn doesn’t delve into the intricacies of their friendship, only knowing that they are the kind of friends you read about in books. Maybe they’re both on the cheer squad and popular, or a little different but still cool.

Not cool. Cool doesn’t mean cool anymore.

Quinn continues this imaginary world throughout dinner, and late into the evening. It’s only when she pictures her boyfriend in this imaginary world- or at least tries to. She imagines all the male celebrities she can. She even thinks of Sam, and his cute blonde hair and open smile. But it still feels wrong, forced.

And when Santana is the only person she can picture in this world, except she might not be a friend, Quinn decides to stop imagining.

What does happen, in a few months? When Brittany and Tina leave. Will Santana stay?

Quinn decides that if she feels like she’s holding Santana, or anyone else, back, then she will push them to go. No point in dragging anyone down with her.

Talking to Santana made her realise how stupid she sounds. Like a child, scared of being away from her parents and her castle. It’s embarrassing.

Quinn picks up her phone, scrolls through hundreds of unopened messages. She finds one from Kurt, the guy who cornered her at the party. Tomorrow night, is when he proposed the meeting. She’s sure of it.

Just to check, she texts Brittany and Tina

Q- hey guys, are you going to Kurt’s?
B-yea !
T-is Q leaving the house?
B- is it rlly you?
Q-haha.
T-seriously tho, pls come. it’s not as bad as u think, it’s pretty chill
B- I’ll pick u up at 7
Q- isn’t it at like 6:30?
T- only u would be early. trust me, it’s better to be a little late. less awkward
Q- are you sure?
T- until 5 mins ago, u couldn’t care less about how these people feel. they’ll survive half an hour without us
B- q can u stop texting Tina now pls we were busy
Q- ew, gross
-but sorry guys
-see you tomorrow

She’s almost glad they don’t respond.

This is her making a change. What if she just gets better after this? Like, this is setting in motion a whole new Quinn Fabray. Soon she will be social, and confident, and with a boyfriend. She will barely remember full days spent under a duvet, feeling like the world is ending and like her bones are made of lead, too heavy to even move.

This new self seems almost as far-fetched as her earlier fantasy. But it’s probably more likely to happen. And she needs to start making a change, before it’s too late, and she’s spent her whole life just surviving.

It might be hard to believe, but at that moment, Quinn truly believes that she’s going to get better. It seems so clear cut, and so easy. As long as she has a spark of hope, no matter how small, she can keep working towards it.

(Quinn has been through this thought process many times, in which she decides to sort herself out. Don’t worry, it won’t last. It never does. But don’t tell her that yet. Let her pretend, just for a little while longer.)

Chapter Text

Quinn is standing at her front door, when she realises this is a bad idea.

Like a really really bad idea.

But she always does this. Feels better for like five minutes, makes plans, and then regrets them when they actually happen.
She's still feeling better though. Managed to get a record 5 hours of sleep, and eat breakfast.

Now she's looking through the window and wondering if it's still too late to call off Brittany, despite the fact she can see her car pulling into the drive.

Her mother walks past, and raises eyebrow (signalling fake surprise).

"Are you going out with Susan? Again?"

"Yeah. She's driving me and Tina to Kurt and Finns."

That gets her. Before she can reprimand fun her daughter for the use of 'yeah', the rest of the sentence sinks in.
"The Hummels? For what?" Both her mother's eyebrows are in the air now (signalling genuine surprise).

"I don't know. A gathering or party?"

"Oh. Well, have fun. And maybe consider wearing something other than black next time. You just suit pastels so well."

Quinn just nods.
"Mhm. Thanks. They're here, bye."

She's out in the car before her mother can ruin her confidence anymore.

"I was so sure that you'd call out." Tina says, as Quinn slams the door behind her.
"I nearly did, but that would mean a night spent in the house with my mother, so I thought this would be slightly easier."
"Damn. Really stuck between a rock and a hard place, aren't you?"
"Still time for me to call out."
"Hell no. These doors are locked, and staying locked until we get to Kurt and Finn's"

Quinn gazes out the window, regretting every decision in her life.

It's about half an hour later, that they arrive at their destination. It's in one of the very upper class suburbs of Lima- one step below mansions, but a step above normal houses.

There's three cars parked in the drive- a battered pickup, and two shiny sports cars. More cars line the street- others have clearly arrived.

Brittany parks, and they get out. Quinn takes a deep breath.

She can leave anytime she wants. Her parents have a fleet of cars to come and get her, whenever and wherever she pleases. It's this small fact that lets her follow Brittany and Tina.

The house is lovely. Honey coloured interior, warm wood, and it's light and airy. Straight out of a mid-2000s sitcom.

Quinn sees who she assumes to be the parents, sitting on the sofa. An attractive older woman, and a smiley man wearing a baseball cap.

"Girls, lovely to see you again." That part is directed at Brittany and Tina. Then their eyes move to Quinn and there's that flicker of recognition.

Before they can get up to bow (as instructed in royal protocol), Quinn just offers them both her hand.

"I am Lucy-Quinn, it is lovely to meet you both."
She introduces herself, shaking hands.

"I'm Burt, and that's Carol."
"You have a beautiful home. Thank you for having us."

"It's no problem. The rest of the kids are downstairs, in the basement."

They go downstairs. Tina mimics Quinn's voice, and her manner.

"You know they're just chill people. You don't need to be all princess and do all the formal stuff." She tells her. Quinn just rolls her eyes.
"It's habit. And if my mother even had an idea that I wasn't doing it right, I'd never hear the end of it."
"Fair dues."

"You guys have been here before, yeah? It looked like they recognised you."

Brittany and Tina share a look and then nod.
"We've been over a few times. I didn't think you'd want to come, plus it's kind of different when the plus-one is a princess."

Quinn isn't even close to being annoyed at them. They're right, she'd have said no.

"It's all good. I was just wondering."

They come to the bottom of the stairs, and into the room.

'Basement' doesn't do it justice. It's a huge space, and the same honeyed tones as the rest of the house. There's a pool table in one corner, sofas scattered throughout, and a flat-screen Tv on another wall.

There's snacks in bowls on almost every surface, and music playing.
It's the most normal place Quinn thinks she has ever been. Not an heirloom or royal portrait in sight. It's perfect.

"Ladies, you made it!" Kurt greets them. He's slightly more casual than Quinn has seen him before- skinny black jeans instead of suit trousers- but still looks like he spent a significant amount of time choosing his outfit.

"And Lucy as well. I have to say, I'm honoured you decided to come to my humble abode."

Quinn can't tell if he's talking like this because she's royalty, or if he usually talks like this.
She's going to go with the second option.

Looking around, everyone seems less formal than when they attend her castle. Shorter skirts, jeans, no ties or small bags. It's a very normal teenage hangout.

She sees Sam sitting on one of the sofas, and he waves to her. She gives him a small wave back (he's not wearing a tie today, and already looks a lot more relaxed than usual).

As she continues to look around, she realises that she looks like she's dressed for a funeral. Even Tina, who is like 90% goth, has toned it down for today. Shit. She didn't even think about what she was wearing- just wanted it to be comfortable and let her hide in it.

Brittany and Tina split up, leaving Quinn stranded in the middle. Brittany sits with Marley, the quiet girl (although Quinn can't talk). And Tina goes to chat with Blaine.

Kurt, however, notices Quinn looking lost.

"Please, come sit with me. Can I get you a drink? Or something to eat?"

Quinn just shakes her head slightly, and follows Kurt to the small sofa.

"I have to say, I still can't believe you decided to attend. Brittany and Tina made out as though you barely leave the house, although I'd imagine there's rather a lot of royal duties..."
He tails off, waiting for a response.

"Hmm, yeah, I guess. It's not too bad for me. My brothers and sister mostly cover that for me."
"Ah yes, of course. I can't imagine five brothers. I've only had Finn for a few years, and let me tell you, it's tough sometimes. But five?"
"It's okay, if I'm being honest. We didn't exactly grownup together, I'm basically an only child."

They're quiet for a second. Quinn watches as Kurts gaze wanders to Blaine, the guy with the curly hair. And he smiles slightly, despite the other boy not even looking in his direction.

It's a look that Quinn recognises all too well, in Brittany and Tina.

"You like him, huh?" She says softly. Kurt's whole facade cracks slightly, and she sees a brief panic. But then he nods, once.
"Unrequited love is a cruel mistress."
"I wouldn't be surprised if he likes you back."

Kurt is giving her a different look now, almost quizzical.

"I have to say, I'm surprised. I didn't think that, given your parents values-"
"I'm not my parents." She cuts in, her voice unusually sharp.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. But it's important that you know that I have my own values. Regardless of what they say or imply."
She thinks it's the most she's spoken to someone new, possibly ever. But it's worth it.

"I like you, Princess Lucy. You're surprising."
"Call me Quinn, if you want." She offers, tucking straight blonde hair behind one ear.
"If it's what you prefer, then I shall. And what about you. Anyone caught your eye?"

Quinn shakes her head.

"Oh, I won't share. I know it's more complicated for you, than just my silly little crush. However, if I was to choose someone who liked you, then it would be Sam."

Kurt turns to see Quinn's reaction, and is disappointed to see her shaking her head again.

"Really? I was so sure. If the feeling isn't mutual, are you perhaps looking for something slightly different? Finn wouldn't appreciate it, of course, but it's to my understanding that Rachel is currently single..." he trails off, probably for dramatic effect.

Quinn thinks this is the closest she's ever been to getting caught.

She's not ashamed of who she could potentially be. But, she is scared of how people would react. And who she would disappoint.

And she knows that Kurt is the last person who is going to call her a slur, or tell the whole world.
But still. She needs to be careful.
Plus she definitely doesn't like Rachel in that way.

"No. I'm not...I like guys. Just not met enough to figure out who." The excuse sounds fake, and leaves a bad taste in Quinn's mouth, but it's enough to get Kurt off of her back.

"Whatever. I'm hoping that there are more gays in this group though, other than myself and Blaine. It's like this everywhere."
"You'll find your people."
"I hope so. I'm going to New York for college. Or an internship, whatever comes my way first."
"Wow. That sounds amazing. Internship in what?"
"Fashion."
"Cool! I wish I was more into clothes and stuff. I'm good at picking outfits that match, and that look nice, but nothing that's ever really cool. I think I'm pretty basic."

Kurt assesses her outfit.

"While it's a little more drab than my personal palette, I think it's lovely. Very princess-off-duty." He answers. Quinn smiles.
"I'll take that as a compliment."

Before they can say anything else, a piercing noise cuts through the air. Quinn traces it back to Rachel, who is holding a karaoke machine and looking guilty. Kurt is up in a flash.

"Absolutely not, Rachel Berry."
"Come on Kurt, just a few-"
"No. Not after last time. Karaoke is only for when drinking, or post-performance."

Now holding the microphone in his hand, Kurt turns it on properly.

"As a notice for everyone in the room- this machine is off limits. Unless you are attending one of Finn and I's legendary house parties, or are here after a performance our theatre group, then this stays off. Understood?"

Everyone nods, and go back to chatting. Quinn checks her phone for notifications (there are none). Someone dropping into the seat beside her startles her, and she turns round.

"Sam? Hey." She greets the blonde boy, who immediately breaks into smile and inches closer (too close. FAR too close).
"It's good to see you, Princess Lucy. How are you?"
"I'm fine, thanks. You?"
"Good. Very good. Listen, my mom and your mom were talking."

Quinn is already dreading whatever Sam is about to say.

"And your mom mentioned that you're, like, needing someone as your dance partner. For the ball."

Of course. Her parent's stupid ball.

"And I was wondering if you'd maybe, like, consider me? I promise I'm great at dancing, and I'll wear whatever colour you want me too?"

He's looking at Quinn all eager, practically holding her hand. But his eyes seem honest, like she genuinely just wants to be a dance partner. It's not a secret marriage plot or anything, she doesn't think her mother would go that far.

"What's this I'm hearing about a ball?" Kurt reappears, before Quinn can even answer Sam. Quinn just shrugs.
"It's just to celebrate my parents coronation. It's a big anniversary. I think."

Quinn has never seen someone's face 'light up before', yet Kurt's visibly brightens.
"A real palace ball? How fabulous."

His voice is far too loud for Quinn's liking, and it gets the attention of the others around the room.
"Q, you never told us it was soon?" Tina calls over. Quinn nods.
"It's in a couple of weeks. Or like, a month."
"Is it like, a big deal? In the palace and shit?" That question comes from Artie, who is immediately shushed by Rachel for 'language??!!'
(Quinn wants to tell her that people can swear, it's not illegal).
"Yes. In the palace and shit." She replies. Rachel looks taken aback by the concept of a princess swearing, but quickly recovers.

"Are we all invited?" She answers. Quinn can feel all the eyes on her, and also her face starting to get hot.

"I'll ask my mother, but I don't see why not.."
She's drowned out by everyone else talking, all at once. And they're loud. But she's just found out they're mostly theatre kids, so it's makes sense.
It's so, so loud though. She can barely concentrate, and the door to get out is way over the other side of the room. There's no way she could make it, without being hit with a barrage of questions.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam nudges her gently, his voice laced with concern. Quinn nods.
"Yeah."
"Its a lot. Especially cause I'm new, it's a difficult group to break into. You're lucky, getting to grow up with them."

Quinn shakes her head.
"I don't really know them that well. I'm best friends with Brittany and Tina, like insanely close. But the others, I don't know."
"Damn. Us newbies have to stick together then, yeah?"

Quinn nods.
She likes Sam. He's nice.

"By the way, you never gave me an answer, about being your partner."

Quinn takes a couple of seconds to consider, but it's not like she has guys lining up to dance with her. So she nods.

"That would be really cool. Yes."

Sam unironically does a fist pump, and then looks very embarrassed at himself.

"Sorry. I didn't think you'd say yes, at least not right away. Wait, this is crazy. We're going to the ball together!"
"Yep! So crazy." The enthusiasm in her voice is faked, but she doesn't think Sam has figured that out yet.
"My mom will definitely have us in dance classes. Not that I can't dance, but dancing with someone is like, a whole different thing. And once you choose your dress, I'll get whatever tux to match. I'll even wear a tie, and I'll get you a corsage-"

Sam's voice fades out, he's not even really talking to her anyway. It's more of a mental checklist.

The gravity of the situation doesn't hit until Brittany is driving them home, much later that evening. They ended up ordering pizza to Kurt's, and watching movies. Quinn escaped from Sam and spent the rest of the night sandwiched between Brittany and Tina.

Quinn also didn't talk to anyone at all for the rest of the night, which isn't great, but she didn't leave the party, which is great.
She has to take the wins as they come.

They drop her off, and she walks into the warm castle. It's in darkness, but she knows her mother will still be awake. Sure enough, the light is on in her study.

"Hey."
"Lucy Quinn, hello. You're back late."
"Yes, it went on for a while. Brittany drove me home."
"How was it? Did you have fun?"

For all Quinn's mom comes across as cold and controlling, Quinn thinks that she really does just worry about her.

"Yes. Oh, also." She pauses as she leaves the room.
"Yes..?"
"I'll need to get proper dancing lessons. Sam asked me to the dance."
Her mother actually smiles, which is a rare sighting (for Quinn anyway."
"Oh, Lucy, I'm so happy for you. Yes, we will get you dance lessons immediately."

Quinn says her good nights before her mother can congratulate her anymore.
Today was a lot. It was new, and scary, and it didn't kill her.