AN: Omg I started two new stories what is this! Anyway I promised myself one day that while I was writing Family Portrait I'd do a Charlie/Santana/Brittany fic. That was always the original idea for family portrait, as I was writing it, I totally chose Santana. I like Chartana, I do. But I'm a bit more comfortable in my writing. And I wanted to write this story. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but whatever. Enjoy don't enjoy. Don't worry the Original Family is still number one, but I need to cleanse my palette every now and again. Keep it fresh, and focusing on just one story, is terrible for me.

Summary: In a world where people are either dominant or submissive and their soulmate is tattooed on their wrist. Charlie Fabray (G!P) is terribly late to the party, at age twenty-five she's hitting rock bottom as everyone around her gets their happy ending. She asked for one—but she got two.

Song: Only One – Kanye West

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"When I said she could stay with us I thought it was going to be for the weekend, a week tops. It's been three months. She needs to give me back my couch." Quinn hissed quietly to Rachel, her wife and partner for five years. She glanced at the body on the couch. Her living room had been taken over, clothes everywhere. "She's been living here rent free and eating my food. You need to stop being nice to her and enabling her," Quinn grumbled. "She has her own money Rachel, she can afford a place as nice as this."

Rachel touched Quinn's arm gently, "Quinn, she got her heart ripped out and stomped on, she's twenty-five and she still hasn't gotten her tattoos yet. Not everyone can be like us, and I think she's a bit jealous and a bit lonely. Just give her more time and slowly begin to build her confidence back up."

"Confidence? My sister has many problems, inconsiderate being one of them, but she's not lacking in confidence. Have you seen the tabloids? Partying all night, hitting on people who are bonded—and then there's the drugs."

"She's not on—" Rachel began gently only for Quinn to pull out a Ziploc bag that contained several pills. "Where did you get that?"

"It fell out of her pocket when I was trying to clean up our living room. This is why our father and mother don't take her seriously at all. She's not even in the running to take over the business, she came into work drunk yesterday. She's been drunk at work nearly every day this week. This isn't helping her."

"Quinn—she's twenty-five, people generally know who they're bonded to by eighteen. She probably thinks that she's going to be one of those people who never find out who they're meant for and she's going to be eternally alone, you need to take it easy and just talk to her. Put your foot down about the drugs though, be firm but gentle."

Quinn exhales and flicks her eyes back to Rachel, her voice low. "Like I am with you?" Rachel smiles and nods and Quinn leans in for a quick kiss. Another thing having her twin around has done is cut into her vigorous sex life with Rachel. She understands, to some degree what her sister was going through. That was a lie, she didn't know anyone, who didn't have the tattoos on their body that showed who their soulmate was. Except for her sister, and she had been patient. In fact she had been happy for her, when she had gotten hers at age fifteen nearly ten years ago. She'd been with Rachel for nine years. And Charlie had waited patiently for hers. She had turned eighteen and nothing had shown up on her wrist. Seven years later her wrists were still empty. A string of failed relationships, hadn't panned out she had been trying to force it to appear. But time and time again whoever she was with would get their tattoo and she'd be left alone.

"Talk to her—be gentle," Rachel whispered.

Quinn nodded and slowly approached her twin who was sitting on what had once been pristine couch. A bag of chips was lying on her stomach and she was just sitting there flipping through the channels mindlessly. She was just sitting there in a wife-beater and boxers. Reason number seven hundred and fifty why her sister really needed to get out of her penthouse apartment. Be gentle and firm. She could do that, she just need a push to get her life back in order. "It's been three months." Quinn said as she took a seat beside her twin who looked at her. There was a bewildered expression on her twin's face. "Since you moved in and decided to crash on my couch and make it your place of permanent residence. So when do you think you'll be ready to move into your own place?" Quinn stated simply.

Charlie turned to her twin a pout on her face, it wasn't the first time Quinn had tried to kick her out and she doubted it would be the last. A part of her knew she had more than worn out her welcome, but she didn't want to be alone. To go back to a place that was empty. She could do strangers. "I don't have anywhere else to go Quinn? I mean who the fuck am I going back to? You have Rachel and you get to come back to her all the time and be with her. I don't want to fucking die alone Quinn. I can't die alone."

She was ready this time for the pouting and the slight underhanded methods that Charlie normally used to get what she wanted. "You can't die on my couch either. I'd never get the smell out," she responds dryly. "Charlie, if you were got your tattoos tomorrow, you're not in any place to take care of whoever it is. You live on my couch, you've shown up to work drunk, your work is suffering. People have bets that you're going to die at twenty-seven like all the greats. Our parents don't think you can handle the responsibility. Dad's threatening to cut you off if you get into any more trouble. You aren't even in the running to run our parents company." Quinn sighed. "Charlie. You could get it tomorrow, the tattoos can come in an hour. It could still happen for you, and you need to be ready for when it does. Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help you."

Charlie scoffed and looked at her bare wrists, Quinn didn't know what it was like. She had been lucky, the burning itch came and the tattoo appeared. It was still there, even with all the years that had passed, the small tattoo with Rachel's name done in cursive. Quinn had later added a small golden star after her name it was nauseatingly sweet and romantic and she desperately wanted her tattoo to show up. "I'm twenty-five. Time to face facts, I'm going to die alone."

Quinn groaned, "I never knew a dominant could be so whiney—are you sure they didn't classify you wrong? You aren't a secret submissive are you?" It was enough to generally goad her twin into some action and she saw that familiar devilish glint in her eyes.

"If you want to see how dominant I am why don't you give me Rachel and I'll give you a lesson or two," Charlie said crossing her arms over her chest a smug smile on her face. There was a shocked expression on Quinn's face, followed by the white hot anger. Maybe she had gone a bit too far.

Charlie rubbed her cheek and looked at her meager possessions surrounded her feet as the door slammed shut in her face. It had been a joke. Really it had been now what was she supposed to do? She grumbled and grabbed a pair of ripped jeans and slid them on slowly. Quinn hadn't even let her put on some pants, and she dialed Frannie's number. She may not be on speaking terms with her eldest sister but she was still family.

'Charlie?' Frannie said picking up on the third ring. 'I am not bailing you out of jail.'

"Frannie—so Quinn kicked me out and I need a place to crash for a few days," Charlie said. She was met with laughter, and she frowned looking at the phone, before putting it back to her ear. Frannie was still laughing on the other line. "Is that a yes?"

'That's a no. You are not staying on my couch for the next year, it's brand new and expensive. Don't think about calling mom or dad either. They'll probably have the same reaction. Get your own place, get your act together and maybe they'll stop being so pissed with you.' With that Frannie hung up, some people had real jobs to do. Charlie had money, she could go crash at a hotel.

Charlie flicked her eyes down her list of contacts. She was like the last single person, most of them had kids or were just as in love. Or they simply didn't have the space. She sighed, she'd probably find some cheap ass hotel and figure out what to do next. She looked down at her clothes and kicked at them before slipping into her boots and walking down the hallway leaving her stuff there. It was just clothes and things, all of her important things could fit into a small storage locker. She knew that's where she had kept them when she had moved in with Quinn.

There was a bar nearby and maybe if she got drunk and walked back Quinn would have forgiven her and she'd be allowed back inside. It's not like she really wanted to go back anyway, she just would rather not be alone. But watching Quinn being happy with Rachel just reminded her of what she didn't have. It was a toss-up which one was worse sometimes. It's why she spent most of the time out of the apartment anyway. She hit the button to the elevator and scratched at her wrist absentmindedly as she waited for the elevator.

She was so tired of being alone, of meeting people who were like her, of fostering a relationship only to be left jilted yet again. It didn't matter if she was one of the most desirable people on the planet. She wanted her fucking soulmate, she wanted to be happy. She had prayed for it nearly every night after Quinn had gotten hers. After she had seen her with Rachel. Hell even Frannie had found her soulmate. Her parents had found each other early as well. It's not like that she had anyone else to talk about this with. She didn't know anyone who hadn't gotten there mark after twenty.

The elevator dinged and Charlie entered the room and stuck her hand out slamming on the L button, pausing for a moment as she looked at her wrist. Red letters had appeared on it in the fancy handwriting that she had been envious of since she was fifteen. Charlie stared in shock and began to vibrate in excitement as she stuck her foot out catching the door as the elevator began to close. She scrambled out of the elevator tripping over herself as she practically ran back to her twin's apartment. "Quinn, fucking open up. It came. It fucking came," she slammed her hand on the door repeatedly. "Quinn it came. It came, I'm not going to die alone."

Rachel bit her lip, holding back the moan as Quinn kissed her neck. "Quinn—" they weren't going to have sex with that racket outside. And she hadn't exactly been pleased at the idea that they had kicked out Charlie, it was like caring for a wounded animal. Her wounds hadn't healed yet and she knew Quinn would blame herself if Charlie went off the deep end. She was already crashing.

"Rachel she just wants to be let in," Quinn said trying to ignore the rapid pounding. It was giving her a headache and she was trying to have sex with her wife. Charlie was twenty-five nearly twenty-six she wasn't getting her tattoo, it was time to start being realistic. She continued to kiss Rachel's neck for a moment but the pounding and the yelling got louder. If this was another one of Charlie's fucking tricks she was going to commit murder. They wouldn't find the body. She groaned and pulled away from Rachel. She was already painfully hard. Definitely going to murder her. She unlocked the door and opened it angrily. "What!" She hissed at her.

"It came. It fucking came." Charlie said holding her wrist out so Quinn could see the red lettering. "Look it just—I was going to the fucking elevator, and it just came. Quinn. I'm not going to fucking die alone and miserable. You were right I just needed to be patient." There were tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around her twin tightly.

So she felt a bit guilty for doubting that her twin would ever find someone, but she was happy for her. Finally she could get over her little depressive state and find her one—and be happy just like she and Rachel were. "See I told you," Quinn said hugging back. Charlie pulled away from her and she couldn't help but grab her arm to get a better look at the name. "So all you have to do is find this—Brittany Pierce person."

"I have to tell mom and dad—and Frannie. Holy shit—it's actually happening. You've got to help me look for her. Please Quinn you have to help me find her." Charlie begged her twin the grin still on her face. She turned to Rachel who had hung back. "Come on Rachel you've put up with my whining for years—what should I do? Should I get her flowers? I don't—what do I do?" Charlie extended her left arm out to get a hug from Rachel.

Rachel shook her head for a moment, she had been telling Charlie for years to keep the faith. To just have faith while everyone else had given up. Even Quinn had given up that her twin would ever find someone. She took Charlie's hand and Charlie pulled her closer the movement causing her jacket to ride up and Rachel caught a glance at something on Charlie's left wrist and she saw lettering on it. Which was odd—you only got it on one wrist. Quinn's name had been tattooed to her left wrist for ten years. Her right wrist bare. "Charlie?" Rachel said pulling away and grabbing her other arm and pulling the jacket up and staring at the name. It certainly wasn't a Brittany Pierce on her other wrist. "Charlie? Why do you have two names?" Rachel asked and both twins stopped what they were looking at and looked at her.

"What do you mean two names?" Quinn said grabbing her sister's other wrist and pulling it forward. "Who the fuck is Santana Lopez? Why do you have two names? Are you trying to punk me so I'll let you back into my house?" Quinn said looking at her twin. But there was a look of surprise on Charlie's face. Her twin wasn't Rachel, she was not the best actor in the world. "What did you do?"

"I have—two?" Confusion swept across her face and she looked at her twin. She had never heard of two names being given. That wasn't possible.

AN: Thank you for taking the time to read this story, I hope you enjoyed it, I hope you like it. Reviews make the world go round.