A/N: This chapter was a struggle. It's pretty much a filler, but a necessary one. I hope it's still enjoyable. Much love to all of those who are still on this ride with me. As always, read, review, follow, favorite and enjoy.

...

Proud. Not a word Quinn Fabray has had the opportunity to use many times in her life, especially in regards to herself. She really hadn't done too many things that she was proud of. Yet that's the only way she could describe the feeling coursing through her as she stands in front of the mirror in the guest bathroom, giving her appearance a final once over. Tonight is the wrap party for the movie. There is a sense of accomplishment that pervades her. It wasn't an easy road, personally or professional, but she was here. She basks in that accomplishment, taking a second to appreciate all the things that culminated in this very moment happening. Some things had gone as expected, while others had been a surprise. She fastens her charm bracelet on her wrist, smiling about the one surprise she was most grateful for. Never in a million years would she have thought that she would fall in love on a movie set. Yet, here she stands in the home of a woman who has run off with her heart like a thief in the night, quickly and without a warning. That was another reason Quinn was proud. She was finally coming to terms with what she was feeling and was willing to admit she was in love. The next step was to summon the courage to convey the sentiment to the object of her affections. She was getting ahead of herself. For tonight, all she had to do was enjoy the moment.

...

The wrap party starts off like any other industry event Quinn has attended. There's music, food, alcohol. People wheeling and dealing, always looking to have a hand in on the next big phenomenon. Quinn spots Santana the minute she walks in. They pose for a few pictures together, but other than that, Quinn choose to keep her at a distance. It's becoming more difficult for her to keep up the ploy that they are just friendly acquaintances, nothing more than co-stars to each other. She knows that if they spend an extended amount of time together, anyone can easily figure out that something more is going on between them. She's not yet willing to let everyone know the true nature of her relationship with Santana.

Santana takes notice to it right away and is trying her best to be respectful of Quinn's desire for some discretion. She tells herself that it's no big deal, that she knows who she is in relation to Quinn, but it in all actuality, that isn't really the case. It's always one step forward, two steps back with her. Santana really hadn't given much thought to it until now. How can she be so deeply in love with someone who can barely acknowledge her unless they're alone? The reality of it hits her hard. So much so that she indulges in a little more champagne than she usually would. Three and a half bottles in and Santana is weepy and hysterical. She corners Quinn on the way back from the bathroom, blubbering on about how she can't stand pretending and that all she has wanted to do all night is to hold her but Quinn doesn't want Santana the way that she wants Quinn. The blonde is more than taken aback by the barrage. She stands silently, not quite knowing how to respond. Her eyes dart around, hoping that no one over hears them. Thankfully Dice shows up and ushers Quinn and a still overwrought Santana to her Escalade. Once inside, Santana falls against Quinn. She's beyond drunk and Quinn doesn't think she's ever seen Santana this far gone before. She holds Santana close, stroking her hair, knowing how it calms her. As Tank takes them home, her heart aches just a little more every time the intoxicated woman in her arms mumbles 'all I want is you.'

...

Each day since the movie had wrapped brought a more morose version of Santana. You would think with it finally in post production, she would feel a bit of elation about the whole thing. Her mood was on the entirely opposite end of the spectrum. Sure, she's grateful to have a goal of hers coming to fruition, but every step to the movie being completed and released is another step that could possibly take Quinn away from her.

They had discussed a bit about what each would be doing between the movie being finished and them doing the promotional tour together. Quinn had explained that she didn't have anything lined up in L.A., so she would be heading back East.

Santana has been moping around the house ever since. For the most part she's been avoiding Quinn, trying to acclimate herself to being without her. Still, it's nearly impossible to fight the tug Quinn has on her heart strings. The constant push and pull is driving her insane. Her need to be close leads her to the guest room, where Quinn is packing up her things. Santana plops down on the bed with a dramatic sigh.

"Sweet Pea?"

"I want to apologize about last night. That's the reason I really don't like to drink too much. I tend to get a little melodramatic when I do," Santana explains.

Quinn nods at Santana's gross understatement of her emotional state the previous evening. She wonders how much of it the other woman remembers.

"Don't worry about it. It's already forgotten."

Santana continues to watch Quinn pack, fidgeting in her seat.

"Was there something else on your mind?" Quinn asks.

"You don't have to be in such a hurry to leave. You can stay as long as you want," Santana answers.

She really wants to tell her she can stay forever, but now isn't the time for that.

"I need to get back to New York. I want to check on my mom and there's things that need to be done around my place, not to mention a mountain of unfinished business I need to attend to. Besides with the movie done, there really isn't a reason for me to be here anymore."

Santana recoils as if she's been punched in the gut. She stands up abruptly to leave.

"And with that, I'll let you finish packing," she says flatly.

Quinn hops up, internally berating herself for her faux pas.

"Santana that came out all wrong," she says.

"Whatever," Santana says flippantly.

"Santana sit down," Quinn demands.

Santana folds her arms over her chest, still giving Quinn a hard glare, not budging a bit.

"Please," Quinn says softly.

She sits with a similar huff to earlier. Quinn kneels in front of her. She hesitates for a moment before placing her hands on Santana's knees. The physical contact steels Quinn's nerves as much as it melts Santana's icy attitude.

"Santana, I know I haven't been good at verbalizing it, but I don't want you to doubt how I feel about you."

She stares at her fingers as they play against the skin of brown thighs. Everyone of her instincts is telling her to hide. To give some lame reason to placate the fears that have been emanating from deep, dark eyes for days now. She tries to come up with some half truth, but she can't. She can't be anything less than honest with Santana.

"I'm not very good at this, but I want you to know that whatever is happening between you and I isn't ending just because I'm leaving. You are so very special to me and a few thousand miles isn't going to effect that. I could be on the moon and that still wouldn't change how I feel about you."

Santana resist the smile that's twitching to get free due to Quinn's declaration. She desperately wants to believe Quinn, but she hasn't really given her anything concrete to go by. The glimpses she has had of the other woman's feelings have been fleeting at best.

"I just need you to have some faith in me. In us," Quinn pleads.

"Okay," Santana agrees.

Quinn grins before standing again to finish packing.

"Besides, I think the time apart will be good for us, you especially. With me gone you'll finally be able to get back to your life. I know I've been cramping your style. You'll be able to get back to the party life with out having to worry about keeping me occupied," Quinn says.

"I'd gladly give all of that up if it means that you're here with me."

Quinn stops folding the shirt she's holding, not sure how to answer such a open and definitive statement. Does she really mean that much to Santana? Quinn doesn't want to allow herself to believe she can be that important to someone, so she deflects instead.

"Well maybe you can get some work done. I know you haven't been recording much since I've been here at the house. I know you're on a deadline."

"I guess," Santana shrugs.

The rest of the process is finished silently, each lost in her own thoughts. Both women having her own stack of apprehensions to what was to become of them.

...

After a restless sleep for them both, Quinn and Santana stand in the latter's foyer, waiting for Tank to bring the car around. Santana looks at the blonde's luggage around her feet and can feel the seconds slipping away. She decides to go against Quinn's wish for them to say goodbye here instead of at the airport.

"Give me a second to grab my shoes, I'm going with you," Santana says.

Quinn stops her with a gentle tug on her wrist. They had previously discussed it would be better to share a private farewell at the house verses a very public one at LAX. It was met with much consternation on Santana's part. She didn't like it, but she understood and couldn't disagree with Quinn's logic.

"Santana we talked about this already," Quinn says gently.

"I know but it doesn't make this any easier. I don't want you to go."

"Hey this isn't permanent. We'll see each other again before you know it. Besides there's still phones, we can FaceTime."

"I know but this still sucks," Santana grumbles.

Tank comes in to retrieve Quinn's bags, letting her know that he's ready whenever she is. Quinn nods and looks back to Santana. She links hands with Santana, watching how they're fingers intertwine together just so. Neither is ready to say goodbye, but know that it can't be put off any longer. Santana hangs her head low, trying not to become a complete mess over Quinn leaving.

"Santana, I," Quinn stops.

Santana lifts her eyes, finally making contact. It's like the wind is knocked out of Quinn when she's not only the sadness, but the uncertainty there. She wants to give her something to hold on to. Something to let her know she meant every word she said the previous evening.

"I'm really going to miss you," Quinn admits.

It's not what she really wants to say. She hopes that the sentiment behind her words can convey how she really feels. I love you. I need you. I adore you. My heart is yours. The women thus far have had an uncanny knack for being able to discern all the things neither is able to voice. Quinn prays that Santana can hear it.

Santana bits her lip, holding the tears at bay. Quinn can see them none the less. She pulls the younger woman into her, both holding on for dear life. She inhales Santana's scent deeply. She stores it in her memory bank to tide her over until the next time they're together.

"Im going to miss you too, Quinn. So much."

Quinn lets Santana go, but not before placing a soft, delicate kiss on her lips. She hopes it can communicate at least a fraction of what she feels for the woman in front of her.

"This isn't goodbye. Okay?" Quinn reiterates.

"Okay," Santana mumbles.

"I'll see you later Santana."

"I'll see you later Quinn."

Quinn blows her one last kiss before stepping out the door. She quickly hops into the waiting car, feeling the last shreds of her control slip away. As soon as her bottom hits the seat, she leans against the window. The hot tears trail down her face as the palm trees of Malibu pass her by. She's hoping that it isn't too long before she's able to see them again.

...

Quinn unlocks the door to her penthouse and allows Johnny, her doorman, to place her bags down. The last time she was here was for her birthday. What a difference a few weeks can make. She frowns after he leaves, walking around a bit. She wonders when this place turned from her own personal retreat to just four walls that housed her stuff. It's kind of surreal to be in a place that you've lived in for five years, yet it doesn't feel like home anymore. She sighs, knowing that it isn't what or where, but who that makes a house a home. She quickly shakes off the feeling. She and Santana have only been separated for seven hours. If she doesn't get it together, there's no way she'll make it until the next time their together.

She almost calls to let her know that she's home, but opts to send a text instead. If she hears her voice, she might lose her resolve and hop on the first thing back to California. Checking her voicemail, she listens to an urgent one from Danny and calls him back right away. He lets her know that he has some jobs lined up for her. He says that she has a limited amount of time to make a decision and that the scripts are being couriered over right away. While she waits, she takes here stuff to her room, sorting things to launder and what will go to the cleaners. She calls Judy not too long after, letting her know that she's home and that she'll be by soon. She makes a mental list of the things around her place that she wants to catch up on and finds her favorite spot to sit. It's a beautiful summer night in the City. Quinn opens her balcony doors, taking in the view. It was one of the reasons she loved this place. Her stomach growls and she remembers that she hasn't eaten all day. She takes inventory in the kitchen, finding that there's nothing salvageable in her fridge. She mulls over takeout menus, finally deciding on Thai food, and waits for it to be delivered.

Over Pad Thai and a nice glass of Chardonnay, Quinn peruses through the scripts. There is a total of five and they range from movies to television to a stage play. Out of the five, only two really appeal to her. The first is another movie. The second is a pilot for a sitcom. Quinn weighs the pros and cons of each. The film is a guaranteed hit. The latest action star, Biff McIntosh, had already signed on to a multi movie deal. She would play a Bond girl-esque type of role. If it works in her favor, she would have at least a few more movies lined up if she stays with the franchise. Not to mention that back to back hit movies would be great for her career, as well as her checkbook. She could get in, get the movie done, then be free in a few months to do whatever she pleases. It would be a lot of money for a small amount of a time commitment.

Then there's the sitcom. It's only a pilot episode. There's no guarantee that a network will pick it up. Even if it is picked up, the average viewer is so fickle who knows how much longevity it will have. The premise of the show is good though and with the right cast, the possibilities are limitless. Not to mention it's being shot in Burbank. That would mean her being in California possibly long term. The idea of working and being that close to Santana appeals to her greatly. There's so much to take in to consideration.

She lets out a frustrated groan. There's no way anything is going to be decided tonight. She finishes another glass of wine before putting everything away. She takes a long hot shower and curls underneath her covers. She squirms for a while, not used to sleeping in her bed, or alone, for that matter. After twenty minutes of being no where closer to slumber, she checks the clock on her bedside table. It's still early on the West Coast. Quinn picks up her phone, dialing the number that she knows by heart. It rings a few times before going to voicemail.

"Hi San, it's me. Just wanted to hear your voice before I went to bed and to let you know that I,"

Quinn's voice cracks a little. She's in disbelief that she's getting this choked up from leaving a voice message.

"I'm thinking about you and I hope to talk to you soon. Good night."

...

Their game of phone tag turns out to be a continuous one. Both are finding it hard to find a substantial amount of time to talk and the time difference certainly isn't helping. Text messages can only do so much. Words on a screen can't always convey the emotions behind them like an actual conversation can.

Santana dives deep into getting her album done to combat her loneliness. She's hardly satisfied with the concessions she has to make, but it's better than the alternative. She spends the majority of her time writing or working out the kinks on some of the songs she's already recorded. The nonstop pace keeps her occupied enough that she only thinks about Quinn for most of the day instead of all of it. It helps to distract her, but it still doesn't take away the dull ache that has taken up residence in her chest. That is what leads her to her favorite corner of the studio. She's in the booth, tinkering away at the piano. She has been working on something the last few days, but can't quite get it right. It feels foggy in her mind, but the stillness of the room is helping to make it a little clearer. She presses her fingers to the keys, a soft melody playing out.

There will never come a day

You'll ever hear me say

That I want and need to be without you

I want to give my all

Baby just hold me

Simply control me

Cause you're arms, they keep away the lonelies

When I look into your eyes

Then I realize

That all I need is you in my life

All I need is you in my life

Santana stops to make a couple notations on her pad. She takes a second to catch her breath, the jumble of feelings slowly starting to unravel.

Cause I never felt this way about lovin

Never felt so good

Never felt this way about lovin

It feels so good

The emotions seep out with each stroke of the keys. Santana is shaking slightly, tears slipping out of her closed eyes, but she doesn't stop.

How it takes away my breath

Starts pounding in my chest

Makes me weak when I think about you

Makes me want to give my all

Life wouldn't mean a thing

Not a happy song to sing

Just emptiness if I had to live without you

Her heart aches, but not because she is in pain, but because it feels so full. She knows Quinn loves her, even if she can't say the words. She can hear it in her voice. She can see it in her eyes. No matter how hard the blonde tries to hide it, they love radiates off of her.

Cause I never felt this way about lovin

Never felt so good

Never felt this way about lovin

And it feels so good

Santana powers through the end of the song, pouring all she has into it. When she's done she lays her forehead on the surface of the instrument. The catharsis of the moment has her a bit unsteady.

"Wow."

Santana cranes her head around to find Noah at the sound board, slowing clapping his hands. She tries to discretely dry her face before heading out to meet him.

"Santana that was amazing," he says.

Santana just shrugs her shoulders.

"Thanks. The label will never let me release it though," she says glumly.

They're both quiet, at a lost at what to say. Neither has ever had the type of friendship where they talked much about feelings and it was painfully obvious that song came from a deep emotional place.

"Noah I've been thinking about something lately and wanted to run it by you."

"Shit you called me Noah. I know it's serious. What's on you're mind?" he asks.

"What do you think about me starting my own record label?"

"It would be a lot of damn work for me, that's what I think," he answers.

"I know that, but is it feasible? Not any time soon, but maybe in the not so distant future."

"Yes it's not entirely impossible. Can I ask what brought this on?" Puck inquires.

"Tired of prostituting myself. I want, no, I deserve better and I don't want to settle any longer."

"Alright. I'll look into some things and get back to you," he assures.

"Thanks."

"So I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Noah starts.

"What is it Puckerman?"

"But the label is pushing the the release date if your album back."

Santana stands abruptly, ready to go off. Noah flinches, preparing for her reaction.

"What the hell!" she yells.

"They claim that you have too much going on and aren't focused. They want a quality product and that isn't going to happen until all the stuff with the movie is done and over. So they've decided to move your release date to the fall. "

"Fuck!" Santana screeches.

This is the last thing she wants to deal with right now.

"I'm sorry," Noah apologizes.

"It's not your fault. But do me a favor. Make that looking into things happen sooner rather than later."

...

It has been a few weeks since the pair has parted ways. Santana is fearful that she'll be 'out of sight, out if mind' in regards to Quinn, but the blonde has been putting in a valiant effort to assure Santana that she isn't going anywhere. She's also getting a lot better at being more forthcoming with her feelings. She'll text Santana, telling her how something she saw or heard made Quinn think of her. She makes it a point to call every night, even if the only speak for five minutes, claiming that Santana's voice is the last that she wants to hear before drifting off to sleep. It's working wonders to put the other woman at ease, finally feeling like they're making some headway.

With Quinn's new found boldness has come a sense of certainty that she hasn't had thus far. She feels secure in cage direction she's geading for the most part, but is still in need of a sounding board. She has invited Rachel over, longing to have some quality time with her friend. Her play having a couple of dark days gives the two a chance to catch up. They sit around Quinn's living room, drinking wine and Rachel explaining how this show is so different than any she has ever done. Quinn is only half way engaged, her attention very much on her phone at the moment.

This meeting is so tedious I want to poke my eyes out.

A text from Santana.

Aww poor baby you'll be ok.

You should save me from my boredom and play a game?

Ok.

What are you wearing

Quinn lets out a giggle before typing out her response. Rachel watches her friend, tickled pink by how giddy she is over a few messages.

"It's Santana, isn't it?" Rachel ask.

Quinn blushes a little before taking a sip from her glass. She gives a subtle nod, before checking her phone again. Whatever Santana texts back is enough to cause Quinn to turn beet red. Rachel laughs out loud and Quinn attempts to give her best scathing looking. This only cause Rachel to laugh even more.

"You know it's hard to be intimidating while your face looks like a cherry tomato," Rachel teases.

Quinn tosses her phone to the side and sticks her tongue out at her friend.

"Quinn I don't think I've ever seen you like this before. You are positively radiant. Why didn't you tell me that you and Santana were so serious?"

"Because we're not really serious. It's not like we're together or anything. We're still kind of just hanging out and seeing where it goes," Quinn replies.

Rachel scoffs. There's no way the two are just 'hanging out' after what she just witnessed.

"Well she does have a reputation as being a bit of a philanderer. I'm not surprised that she's dragging her feet in regards to making a commitment to you."

"It's not her, it's me," Quinn supplies.

Rachel nods, but doesn't say anything immediately. She's aware of her friend's tendency to self sabotage. She takes in Quinn's demeanor and pries a little more.

"I don't really know her that well, but from our brief interaction, she seems like a really nice person," Rachel says.

"She is that and so much more. Any woman would be lucky to have her," Quinn agrees.

"So."

Quinn can see her friend struggling to make sense of what she's hearing. Quinn can barely make sense of it herself most of the time, let alone explain it to someone else.

"I'm kind of at a lost when it comes to her. She's all grand gestures and big declaration and I've never really had those things before. I don't know how to reciprocate that," Quinn says.

Rachel takes a moment to think, wanting to word what she has to say correctly.

"Quinn, I'm no expert in how things between two women work, but if that's the only thing keeping you from her, than I'm sure its something that can be easily rectified. I can certainly offer you romantic advice if that's what you need," Rachel offers.

"But it's not just the grand gestures, it's her everything. Like how she always thanks me when I cook her a meal. Or how she always asks me about my day, and listens, no matter how boring it was. Or the adorable relationship that has formed between her and my mother. How anything that matters to me is important to her. She looks at me like I'm the most beautiful woman she's ever seen. She's so thoughtful and selfless and I don't think I've ever been treated with so much care and concern in my entire life and I don't know how to even begin to show her the same thing."

"You could just be you. I have it on good authority that Quinn is pretty awesome," Rachel says.

"But Rachel she wants us to be together. Like girlfriends in a monogamous relationship together."

"Quinn forgive me if I'm missing the point, but you have a beautiful, successful woman who is crazy about you and wants nothing more than to be with you. I'm having trouble seeing what the problem is. "

"Rachel do you know what it we be like for me, someone who's never had a public relationship, to not only announce that I'm dating someone, but I'm dating a woman. Oh, and it's not just any woman, she just happens to be Santana Lopez. The media would have a field day. Not to mention what it might do to my career."

"All that might be well and true, but who says you have to make some big announcement about who you're doing the naked Tango with."

"The naked Tango?" Quinn interrupts.

"Focus Quinn, I'm trying to be of some assistance."

"I'm sorry. Please carry on."

"As I was saying, I think instead of worrying so much about everyone else's stance on the matter, instead maybe you should place your focus on the only two opinions that matter. Santana sounds like she's pretty amazing. Don't you think she's worth putting yourself on the line for?"

Much to Quinn's chagrin, Rachel is absolutely right. Wasn't her mother just saying that the biggest risks usually have the best payoff. Not to mention Santana is constantly going out on a limb emotionally, not sure how Quinn will react. Yet she willing takes the plunge anyway. It's time for Quinn to match her effort.

"So I got a couple of offers I'm considering," Quinn says, done with the current topic of discussion for the moment.

"Really? Any top contenders?" Rachel asks.

"Yes. Another movie and a sitcom. Both being shot in California. I haven't made a definite choice yet, but I'm leaning in a certain direction."

"California you say? Hmm. Interesting," Rachel muses.

Quinn gives her a look. Rachel raises her hands in surrender.

"All I'm saying is that I finding it quite fortuitous that both of your next professional opportunities just so happen to be in California. Has to be fate that all roads seem to lead to Santana."

...

Long after Rachel has gone home, Quinn sits in the same spot, fiddling with her phone. She knows what she needs to do, but the doubt that always nags at her is slowly creeping in. It's almost crippling, but she's not going to have it effect her life any longer. She replays the message she's going to leave over in her head a few times. Satisfied that she's gotten it right, Quinn finds the name she's looking for, swiping right to initiate the call.

"Hello," Santana answers a few rings later.

"Hey San," she says surprised.

She wasn't really expecting to talk to Santana directly.

"Give me a second, let me get somewhere quiet," Santana says.

Quinn can hear the background noise dim, Santana clearly having left the room.

"What's up sweetheart?"

"I can call you back if your busy," Quinn offers.

"I'm never to busy for you."

Quinn takes a deep breath, fingertips tracing over her bracelet.

"I have something I need to say to you and I don't need yofeu to say anything. I just need you to listen," Quinn rushes out.

"Okay."

"I want to start by telling you that I miss you. I miss you more than I think that I've ever missed anyone in my entire life. And I know that's sounds crazy because we've only been apart a few weeks and we've only know each other a few months, but it's the truth. Knowing how true that is made me realize how much you've become a part of my life. Not only just that, but that fact that your an important part life. I wanted to tell you that I want the things that you want. I know this isn't anything official but I needed you to know that. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. So I'll talk to you later?" Quinn asks.

"Yes."

There's a pause over the line, neither woman quite ready to hang up.

"And Quinn?"

"Yeah."

"I miss you too."