A/N: I'm like a couple days behind because my Wednesday was super busy. I had a doctor's appointment and then I went to see Wicked for the third time in my life, and I met the cast and it was brilliant and amazing and yeeEEESSSSSSS. Anyway, here you go. Something a little fluffy, and I'm sorry it's so short, but I didn't really have an idea for this theme. If anyone has ideas for Day 6, I would be eternally grateful. I love you, darlings.

Disclaimer: No.

Santana is stocking merchandise in her aisle when she hears her boss approaching, talking to what seems like a new employee. "Actually, I won't be the one training you. I'm going to have one of my experienced employees train you." Ha, sucks for them, Santana thinks as she bends down to pick up another box. "Here she is."

A loud thump is heard as Santana drops the box she was holding as she spins around to see Quinn standing next to her boss. "What?"

"I need you to train Quinn here while I train the other new guy," Jason says as he pats Quinn on the back and walks away.

"But-" Santana tries, but he's already around the corner on his way to the other new employee.

Quinn tilts her head at Santana's outfit. A white tank top and jean shorts. "I didn't think you could wear that."

Santana snaps her head towards her former Cheerios captain. "I can when the store's closed." Quinn wears jeans, and a short sleeved shirt. "You're gonna be hot."

"What?" Ever since Santana came out of the closet, Quinn has distanced herself from Santana.

A perfect eye roll is executed by Santana, and the Latina pulls at the other girl's shirt. "They don't run the A/C overnight. It gets really hot."

"Oh…" Quinn switches from one foot to the other, unsure of what to do as Santana bends down to pick up the box she dropped.

"Just," Santana gestures to the cart full of boxes and then sighs. "Just hand me boxes that have 'aisle 11' on the label."

"Okay, so next to where it says 'aisle 11', it will give you a bay number. Odd numbers are on the right, even on the left." Santana explains as she walks down the aisle with Quinn following her. "This box goes in bay 13, so that's here. There are little stickers on the rack," Santana says as she points to the sticker, "to show you what bay it is. Go sort through the boxes and put each box in front of the bay it goes in."

Santana sits on one of the shelves, and drinks from her bottled water as she watches Quinn work. She smiles to herself, knowing that she's giving the blonde orders instead of the other way around. I'm milking this for all its worth, Santana thinks to herself.

As soon as all of the boxes are unloaded from the cart, Santana directs her to find the matching 6-digit SKU and stock the items. It doesn't take long before Quinn starts to complain that some of the items are too high for her to reach. Santana sighs and hops off of the shelf before grabbing the box and reading the SKU. Like a professional, Santana steps on the shelf and grips the top bar with one hand, and then she stacks the items in the box with the other hand. "There," she says, "easy."

Santana is surprised at how fast the girl stocks the aisle and as soon as she's done, Santana hops off of the shelf once again. "Break time." Santana starts walking down the main aisle towards the lockers where they keep their items. She notices that Quinn is sweating profusely. The blonde would rather die of heat stroke than ask Santana for any favors, and the Latina knows that. So, with an inward sigh of frustration, she asks with a monotone voice, "Want to borrow some shorts?"

She looks almost surprised at the question, which honestly doesn't surprise Santana. They both resent each other for completely different reasons. Neither of which know the other's reaonsing. They never talk about it, but they both know there's a lot of tension in the air between them. With a meek nod, Santana hands Quinn a spare pair of shorts and the blonde quickly changes into them in the bathroom.

When she emerges, Santana can't help but look her up and down, but quickly focuses on her locker combination. After grabbing her cigarette pack and lighter, she slams her locker out of frustration and almost stomps towards the side door. Quinn follows hesitantly since she doesn't know any of the other employees there.

"Why are you following me?" Santana asks as she spins around to confront the blonde.

"I don't… I don't know anyone else." Quinn stutters. She's not used to not knowing anything, and she certainly isn't used to following anyone, especially Santana.

The Latina scoffs, and opens the side door, using a stone to keep it from locking them out. She slides a cigarette between her lips and lights it, letting her head fall back against the wall. As she exhales, she can feel the buzz start to emerge in her head. "Ahh…" she sighs at the pleasure.

Quinn just kinds of stands there, she doesn't have the stance she normally would; confident and knowing. She stands there looking uncomfortable and awkward. Santana studies the look on her face before trailing her eyes down her body, reading her body language.

Again, she scoffs. She hates how attractive the blonde is. How she can get anything she wants. How she's both smart and gorgeous. Also, the fact that she's all kinds of attractive, like the perfect blend of cute, pretty, hot, beautiful, and sexy all rolled into one person. She knows the blonde is also all kinds of talented; smart, vocally gifted (not like Rachel, but still), and artist, a writer, and an amazing actress. Quinn could do whatever she wanted in this world, and that pisses Santana off to no end.

"Would you stop looking at me like you want to put your cigarette out using my eyeball?" Quinn speaks up.

Santana chuckles darkly. "But that'd be so much fun."

Another inhale. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Santana exhales too quickly, causing her to start coughing. "Me?" she chokes. "I should be asking you that." She gulps down some water before clearing her throat. "Just because I'm gay, doesn't mean I've changed. You're the one that threw ten years of friendship away because of the gender I'm attracted to."

"That's not true!" Quinn is quickly becoming defensive.

Santana flicks her cigarette butt away. "Oh, so it just so happens that I come out, and you don't want to be friends anymore? Nice try, Quinnie." Santana starts to walk away, but Quinn grabs her wrist.

"Do you ever think about where you spend all of your time?" she asks. "Why we never hung out after you came out of the closet? Tell me, what do you do every day after school?"

She yanks her arm out of the grip the blonde has on her. "Don't you dare blame this on Brittany."

"I'm not," Quinn says, voice slightly shaking, "I'm blaming you."

Quinn walks ahead of her into the store, and heads for the next aisle they are going to work on, quickly sorting the boxes and refusing to let the tears fall. Santana just stands in the doorway. Had she really forgotten about spending time with Quinn? The blonde never asked to hang out with her or anything, but is that because she was locked onto Britt? Sure, she knows Brittany is with Sam now, and they both seem to be head over heels. Sure, she's always had a small crush on her best friend of ten years. Had she subconsciously been avoiding her ever since she came out of the closet? Is Quinn right?

Santana thinks back to when she sang 'I Kissed a Girl' in Glee Club a couple months ago. Quinn was there, next to her as she came out. Ever since, Quinn has always been somewhat close, but ever so carefully keeping her distance from Brittany. Brittany. Those two blondes never really got along. Maybe Quinn just didn't want to get in the way. Oh boy, Santana thinks as she holds her hand to her head, I have a headache now.

As she walks down to the aisle where Quinn is, all she can think is, Is this my fault? She's unaware that she's said it aloud until Quinn answers, "Yes," the blonde sighs, "but it's also mine." Quinn wipes her brow with the back of her hand. Santana goes to open her mouth, but Quinn interrupts, "Can we just get this done, first? We can talk later."

Santana nods, and bends down to pick up some boxes and spread them out to their designated bays.

"Finally," Quinn says, stretching her back, "time to sleep."

"Why did you even pick a night job?" Santana asks out of amusement of watching Quinn stretch. She sees a thin sliver of skin as the blonde's shirt rides, up but she quickly looks away, scolding herself.

"It's summer, and it pays more than day jobs."

Santana hums in acknowledgement as she pulls out the keys to her car. "Well… I'll see you tomorrow night, then?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Both of them stand there awkwardly for a couple of moments, until Quinn moves to hug Santana. "I miss you, San."

To be honest, Santana didn't know how much she's missed her friend until that moment. Even more surprising to them both, Santana starts to cry into Quinn's shoulder, throwing her arms around the blonde's waist. Quinn coos into Santana's ear quietly as she runs her fingers through her hair. "It's okay," she says over and over again, "I'm here."

Santana swallows and sniffles after a minute or two, she's never one to cry for too long, and releases Quinn to wipe at her cheeks. "Yeah, I miss you too and stuff."

Quinn chuckles and helps Santana clean off her tears. "Always the sentimentalist."

"Mmm," the other girl hums sarcastically.

"And one of many words, as well."

"Shut up." Santana punches her lightly in the shoulder.

They're both smiling like morons and Quinn tells her that they need to catch up very soon, maybe a sleepover after work or something. Of course, Santana agrees because she really does miss the blonde, and it's hard to say 'no' to her. It always has been.

A/N: Please review, I love all of them. And again, ideas for Day 6. The theme is 'Wanna Bet?' Okay, love you, bye.