Honestly I've been writing and rewriting, huffing and puffing and (rightly) despairing of getting to where I want the story to be for this chapter. So here's the 'warts and all' least irritating version of this chapter - I reserve the right to delete it in a fit of pique or embarrassment.

Santana's smug satisfaction at finally rattling Quinn's cage sufficiently to elicit such an intense response - 'Go Fuck yourself Santana' was so oddly reminiscent of HBIC Quinn of old - lasted only until just she and Brittany were the sole occupants of the choir room. Schuster's half hearted rebuke, Mike's simmering anger, Kurt and Mercedes disappointed irritation at a missed golden gossip item (wrongly directed towards her), even Puck's leery "now that's something I'd like to see", all left her unmoved. The pleasure derived from provoking Quinn to loosen some of that iron willed control on her emotions was one she rarely experienced and Santana knew she needed to savour her triumph - made that much sweeter by the readily expressed disapproval of her peers. Then came Brittany's disappointed expression, heavily sighed,"Oh San" and the savouring was brought to an abrupt end.

From there the conversation followed an often-repeated tried and tested pattern. Santana blustered an unconvincing claim of innocence (What? She hadn't done anything, she'd merely suggested Q sing a song....) moving quickly into a defensive almost angry justification of her actions (She'd spent years enduring the silent disapproving dyke-phobia of Q with her stuck up sense of superiority, one remark was hardly payback ...) before finally being able to reflect on her behaviour as others might perceive it (This was totally different to what Finn-becile had done to her because - well, it just was. Everyone knew about Q and treasure trail's recent conversion to the delights of lady loving - worst kept secret ever - so unless outing just how 'out' Q was to herself was a crime... Besides, she was just joking. Admittedly maybe it wasn't very funny (Santana's inability to completely snuffle out a snigger at the memory of Q's expression served to undermine her protests) particularly if you had Q's neurosis about reputation, the world's biggest stick up your ass, never mind her long repressed lesbianism and midget fetish. Okay, so maybe she shouldn't have...).

Brittany's role was to maintain a silent disappointed air until Santana finally recognised and then apologised for the error of her ways. Only this time Santana had run out of apologies (trying to get Quinn to publicly acknowledge what everyone already knew, playing on the insecurities of a friend, picking on the disabled, disrupting a glee club rehearsal, upsetting Mercedes,...calling Berry a midget - even though she was one?) without that disappointed expression on Brittany's face even wavering. Santana racked her brains for any further misdemeanours she needed to apologise for before finally slumping defeated in her chair. It was the first time she'd ever failed to pinpoint the cause of Brittany's disappointment in her. Should she - dare she - ask?

Brittany solved the dilemma for her as she sadly stated in that lip-quivering disappointed way that never failed to halt Santana in her tracks

"I was really looking forward to a movie night with Quinn and Rachel."

Santana's heart sank. Ridding Brittany of that look would invariably involve seeking Quinn's forgiveness. She so wasn't used to asking for it, Quinn certainly wasn't used to giving it - hardly a combination of factors to engender confidence in her ability to fix this. Perhaps she could distract Brittany with...the audible Brittany sniff was enough to stop that thought mid-formulation. Feeding the ducks just wouldn't cut it - Brittany at this level of focussed disappointment wasn't going to be distracted. Santana just needed to suck it up. She sucked at sucking it up. Right, the only option open to her was to make movie night with Quinn and Berry Baggins happen - if she could do that without having to apologise to Quinn, well, even better.

Quinn's car journey home was torturous - an equal mix of intense pleasure and total despair. Rachel's singing could move Quinn to tears (the song type or lyrics being irrelevant) and the thought of being deprived of future impromptu Rachel sing-alongs led her musings along a dark path. A sensible voice in her head counselled her to start getting used to a Rachel-free existence by not inviting her in for their usual post school chat. A smaller far more timid voice in her head kept telling her to confess everything because - as it reminded her ominously - once Rachel met up with Sarah... The inner debate was crippling her ability to enjoy these last few precious moments and causing Rachel to (eventually) eye her warily. Quinn's denials about anything 'being wrong' or 'troubling her' had been unconvincing; her tone had been one of annoyance - with herself, but Rachel obviously thought it was directed at her, judging by the way she nervously bit her lip and her eyes appeared to be that bit more teary. Quinn realised she needed to say something to Rachel - to at least try and prepare her for Sarah's version of the truth. To arm her for what she would hear because, although Sarah would be factually correct, she'd probably miss out the subtle nuances and motivations that changed absolutely everything. But where to start and how much to say? By the time Rachel parked her car on the Fabray driveway there was a tense atmosphere in the car only heightened when Rachel abruptly switched off the radio mid unwanted exaltation to 'always look on the bright side of life'.

Rachel slipped off her seatbelt and plastered a smile on her face. She was struggling to contain her dismay at Quinn's ill-disguised irritation with her - she'd had plenty of experience over the years of identifying it to know that was what it was despite Quinn's weak attempts at denial. Rachel had got in her car on an emotional high - that hug of intense closeness they'd shared in the school corridor earlier had given her the false hope that their friendship was back on track. The euphoria had quickly melted away as Quinn slumped into a monosyllabic depressed state that even Rachel couldn't fail to notice.

If only they could just spend their time hugging - Rachel swallowed her sigh - hardly practicable. Maybe her need for a highly tactile friendship was the problem? Or maybe she was just too smothering as a friend? She could still recall the warmth and sense of comfort that being hugged by Quinn had given her and yet now here she was feeling uncertain and insecure; annoyed with herself that her mere existence seemed to irritate Quinn and then annoyed that she was annoyed! So much for not letting anyone come between her and her Broadway dreams - Quinn's opinion really shouldn't matter (although it did and she positively ached for Quinn's friendship). Rachel drew in a steadying breath - she used to be famed for her directness - maybe she needed to channel some of the old Rachel; Quinn was never one in the past to shy away from honest answers and brutally frank critiques of everything Rachel related.

"I'm sorry if I've been." "Maybe I should.." The silence was suddenly broken by them both speaking simultaneously followed by them both grinning idiotically at each other. The pause and then them saying in unison "after you' caused more merriment - okay maybe it wasn't as amusing as their laughter suggested but the tension was suddenly eased. In a rash moment Rachel summoned up all her courage to reach across the car and take Quinn's hand in hers as if she could somehow hold on to the version of Quinn that made her feel special.

"Rachel," sighed Quinn, as she struggled to think of what to say.

"Sorry," Rachel's pained apology was accompanied by her gaze dropping to her lap and her attempting to remove what she thought was her offending hand. She just couldn't do anything right, misreading social cues and seeking physical contact when that was the last thing the other person wanted. A smile was hardly an invitation to grasp someone's hand for goodness sake! Why was she so socially inept? No wonder everyone found her irritating.

Quinn quickly clasped the retreating hand in both of hers but Rachel stubbornly avoided looking at her.

The awkward silence returned and then lengthened.

"Rachel, I ..you," Quinn's voice was hesitant and croaky. Those few words seem to have exhausted her.

Rachel swallowed as her heart hammered in her chest from watching Quinn nervously stroke her fingers. She was allowing Quinn to toy with her feelings with as little resistance as she allowed her to toy with her fingers. Her mind briefly dared to suggest that maybe Quinn was going to say something about valuing their friendship but far more ominous thoughts of Quinn trying to extricate herself from Rachel's suffocating desperation to be her best friend now held sway.

"Quinn," Rachel finally managed to say in a soothing calm voice that she felt disguised all her inner turmoil, "I really should be going," her accompanying attempt to extricate her hand was half hearted.

"I need to tell you," Quinn stopped, bit her lip and then tried again, "I just want you to know.." She ground to a halt again. Anything she said would cause Rachel pain - those dark brown eyes would look at her with hurt and disappointment through a film of tears as her lips trembled with barely suppressed emotion...Quinn shook her head in frustration at her inability to admit how she'd been less than completely truthful with Rachel. A confession to dishonesty when she still wasn't prepared to admit the full truth was hardly going to be convincing.

"Need me to know?" encouraged Rachel eventually because she loathed silence. Time to hurry this all along. She accompanied her words with what she considered her devil-may-care smile even though a fear of rejection was gnawing away at her insides. She was well versed in dealing with Quinn rejections and this would probably qualify as one of the nicest if you looked at them all objectively (she couldn't. Somehow it was easier to be without Quinn's friendship when she didn't know exactly what she was missing).

" I just.. I ..." blurted a croaky Quinn "These last few weeks...Spending time together ... Some people think...I might have implied," Quinn's frustrated sigh at her own inarticulacy reverberated around the car. Rachel closed her eyes, focussed on the electric touch of Quinn's hands on hers and braced herself for words she didn't want (but expected) to hear.

She waited - 'some people think', 'I might have implied' could surely only end with an incredulous 'we're friends'?

After a brief silence filled only by the sounds of their breathing Quinn suddenly released Rachel's hand and threw it towards her as if it had been declared the sole source of all known cases of bubonic plague. Rachel kept her eyes tightly shut - here was the old Quinn she was so familiar with - and fought back the threatening tears. 'Actions speak louder than words' repeated in a goading manner in her head. She just needed a moment to compose herself.

It was Quinn's emphatic "oh for fuck's sake " and the sound of her wrestling with the door lock that caused Rachel to abruptly open her eyes. Quinn seemed to be in a desperate haste to escape the car and Rachel's bewildered "your chair" was swallowed up in Quinn's loud animalistic wail of frustration and despair. Rachel's alarm turned immediately to empathy as she finally managed to direct her gaze in the direction Quinn was angrily staring, only for a smug looking Santana Lopez to come into focus. It was all Rachel could do to stop herself joining in with a harmonised wail of irritation and frustration to complement Quinn's (if indeed Quinn's irritation was directed at Santana rather than frustration at being unable to escape Rachel's company). Instead she busied herself with the practicalities of fetching Quinn's chair by releasing her seatbelt and exiting the car on the side away from where Quinn had slumped into a defeated silence. The sooner she delivered Quinn's chair the sooner she could be out of here.

The true extent of Quinn's impotence and dependence on others due to her wheelchair bound status finally hit home as the red mist descended on seeing Santana standing in her driveway. What part of 'go fuck yourself' had been ambiguous in conveying the urge to never have to deal with Santana again? She'd wanted to jump out of the car and intimidate the hell out of her former deputy; by being in her face and glaring dismissively at her using her height advantage to full effect - incredibly close proximity to Santana without actually touching her had proved a most effective tactic in the past and Quinn had honed the technique to paper width perfection over the years...when she could use her legs that was. Instead her upper body had been eager to exit the car, ready for a confrontation and tensed in anticipation, even as her lower half completely failed to respond to the sudden burst of endorphins and instead had treacherously anchored her in place. It was all Quinn could do not to fall out of the car and suddenly she was reduced to screaming her frustration about absolutely everything. In fact she was positively howling in rage until Santana's initially startled reaction made Quinn realise how dangerously out of control her emotions were. She bit her tongue to stop a stream of profanity escaping and tried to master the swirling sea of feelings rushing through her. A blank-faced Rachel brought her wheelchair to the car door and then evaded any of Quinn's efforts at eye contact. Quinn concentrated on manoeuvring herself from car to chair.

Santana drawled an amused," Good to see you too Q."

Quinn's head snapped up to glare witheringly at her," Why.. you..," she paused to order her chaotic thoughts, "Why are you.."

"Sure you haven't had a blow to the head Q cos your alphabet reciting is way off?" interrupted Santana only for her smile to fade as Quinn wheeled in a threatening manner towards her. Would being crushed by a wheelchair be classed as vehicular manslaughter?

"Yo Mrs Fabray," announced Santana with a little less sang froid than she hoped for, looking at a point beyond Quinn's advancing shoulder.

"Oh please," snarled Quinn. Did Santana really think she'd fall for that old chestnut? She'd been the one who'd taught it to her after all.

There was no mistaking the owner of the voice that projected a puzzled "Quinn?" across the driveway. Quinn turned slowly to face her concerned-looking mother and more alarmingly to take in Rachel's still expressionless face.

Hearing her daughter's yell of anguish and frustration had Judy rushing from the house in alarm, hardly daring to think about what she might find. She quickly surveyed the scene in front of her. Although Quinn looked embarrassed and frustrated, Rachel's face was unreadable and that irritatingly rude and crass Santana girl was grinning inanely at her – nobody seemed to be in any imminent danger.

"So Mrs F, how's tricks?" breezed Santana, relieved with the temporary cessation of hostilities.

"Santana," Judy's acknowledgement was icily polite. Her gaze moved on to Quinn, expressing both concern and disapproval with the lift of one perfectly arched eyebrow. Quinn was avoiding looking at her so Judy concentrated on the shortest member of the group for answers. Her voice held a warmth that Santana had spent years trying (and failing) to evoke," Rachel? Is everything okay?"

Rachel snapped to attention and the transformation was immediate; unfortunately the sudden beaming smile that she managed to put in place lacked the warmth of the fixed painted smile on a ventriloquist doll.

"Absolutely!" said Rachel in a frighteningly enthusiastic manner as all attention fixed suddenly on her.

"Everything's fine Mom," managed Quinn between gritted teeth as she deflected attention away from Rachel "In fact, Santana was just leaving."

"Oh good one Q, but I've only just arrived besides," Santana grinned," you seem at least as pleased to see me as your manically grinning girlf…,"

"Is there a reason we have the pleasure of your unexpected company?" cut in Judy with a frostily polite voice that communicated the very opposite of 'pleasure' and implied dropping in unexpectedly was a crime on a par with filming a kitten drowning and then uploading said video with a laughter soundtrack. The contrast to the tone she used for Rachel was jarring.

Santana resisted the urge to voice a 'calm your tits' at Mrs F, surmising it would probably have the opposite result and there was little to be gained from antagonising her further. The joint effect of the two Fabray women glaring at her was far less disturbing than the Berry teeth-baring disguised as a grin. She made a placating gesture with her hands towards the hostile Fabrays.

"Just seeking a little clarification," Santana soothed, as she momentarily considered just getting an answer and leaving but the urge to goad Q remained as big a temptation as ever, "on whether Q's suggestion for a solo activity for me tonight was a serious one," Santana's solemn expression gave way to a grin as a hint of red crept up the usually white Fabray cheeks. As she suspected, Q had been her usual secretive self about events in the choir room judging by her flustered irritation and Berry obviously fighting the urge to ask further questions.

"Frankly, I can do 'rubbin' the nubbin' anytime," Santana's grin broadened as Q's face reddened further," You know, 'auditioning the finger puppets'," Santana curled and extended two fingers as a visual prompt as Q looked on the point of exploding. Q's seething anger was rare to evoke but always had a thrillingly unpredictable scary edge to it. 'One last push' Santana promised herself. Berry's eyebrows as a barometer of her level of understanding were doing an excellent job of signalling her total bewilderment.

"Well, not to 'beat about the bush'..." another innuendo laced sentence was accompanied by a Santana smirk, "Or rather, whether I should indeed beat.."

"Santana," Judy's warning growl effectively cut Santana off just when her memory was providing her with euphemisms galore - 'fanning the fur', 'muffin' buffin' and 'paddling the pink canoe' would all need to be stored away for later use. Santana narrowed her eyes - surely Mrs F was too uptight and aged to have understood what she'd been alluding to?

"I must be going," Rachel announced far too brightly in the sudden conversational lull.

Judy saw the momentary distress these words caused her daughter before Quinn's expression settled on impassive; the involuntary twitching of the muscle in a tightly clenched jaw continued to give her away.

Oh," the extent of Judy's disappointment was effectively conveyed in the one syllable "I was looking forward to conversing with you."

Santana's half amused grunt of disbelief went unacknowledged.

"Hmm well I'd love to stay and chat," the sentiment wasn't reflected in Rachel's eyes as she dutifully shared her fixed grin with them all, "but needs must." She upped the wattage of her smile. All that was missing from Rachel's performance was a hearty slap of her thigh and a jaunty wink. There was no way anyone – particularly not Santana – was going to have a hint of her disquiet.

"That's a pity" Judy's sincerity rang through before she added in a confiding stage whisper," It's usually the best part of my day."

Rachel's painted smile wobbled slightly before she steadied herself, "Yes, well..."

"Surely you've time ..." wheedled Judy, she could sense Rachel's conflict almost as clearly as Quinn's desperation for Rachel to stay.

She dropped her voice and added flirtatiously, "I might even be able to find a secret stash of chocolate brownies."

There was a moment when Rachel's willpower wavered and she teetered on the edge of accepting Judy's invitation. Judy pressed home her advantage, ignoring Santana's incredulous expression.

"Vegan of course," purred Judy," Made just for you."

Quinn's focus switched to Rachel as she willed her to agree to her Mom's blatant bribery and manipulation.

"Never thought I'd see the day when the Fabrays were supportive of vegetarianism," mused Santana loudly, "or should I say vagit-arianism?"

Quinn froze with fear - her heart pounded in her chest, her palms were suddenly clammy and breathing became painfully difficult - even if she could have moved she wouldn't have dared look to see her mom's or Rachel's response to the myriad of implications in Santana's words..

"It's veganism," snapped Rachel unable to tolerate Santana's uncouth ignorance for any longer.

Quinn drew in a ragged breath and the world returned sharply and dizzyingly quickly into focus, starting with a beautifully angry Rachel; her 'everything's wonderful' facade had given way to a cross armed, blazing eyed, indignant Rachel that was so familiar - was an irritated slow-motion flick of those dark silky locks really too much to ask for?

"Whatever you want to call it is fine by me," drawled Santana suggestively.

"It's not about what I call it, I think you'll find the term vegan originates from..." Rachel's irritation was apparent as she raced through her standard patter about veganism, skipping the usual ovo-lacto vegetarian digression. It gave Quinn time to recover even if she wasn't prepared to risk a glance at her mom.

"Whatever," dismissed Santana with a wave of her hand. She was trying to understand the weird undercurrents to the exchanges so far, never mind all the furtive and hesitant looks going on. Rather than irritation being unanimously directed her way she was experiencing the unusual sensation of her presence being irrelevant - even with Berry giving her that fixed stare.

"Soooooooo, are we still on for girls movie night." Santana asked to bring the attention back to her.

"Q? Mighty midget?" she prompted before adding," Mrs F – sorry – but you're way too ancient for an invite."

Rachel tore her angry gaze away and didn't bother replying - Santana had only ever included her in the movie night invite out of misguided politeness or ..worse. A quiet retreat to her car was needed.

Judy rolled her eyes and managed a sarcastic "I'll just try to learn to live with my disappointment." Her remark went unacknowledged as Quinn and Santana glowered at each other just like they'd often done over the years. She noticed Rachel silently edging away and made to follow.

"Until apologies are in place, girls movie night isn't even an option," Quinn's voice was pleasingly even despite the overwhelming desire she had to physically harm Santana. She still didn't dare check for her mom's reaction and she needed Santana to just leave so she could attempt some damage limitation work with Rachel. Nothing caused Santana to disappear faster than the suggestion she owed an apology.

Santana nodded her understanding and made a show of readying herself. After a significantly long pause and a surprised "Oh, what, me? But I thought..." Santana managed to convey that she was the one expecting an apology.

Judy decided she'd seen this version of an argument hundreds of times before, had had more than her daily quota of teenage posturing and really wanted to find out what was going on with Rachel.

"I'm waiting," snapped Quinn impatiently. Santana must have seen something in her expression that caused her to swallow whatever quip had sprung to mind.

"Brittany was really looking forward to movie night," Santana tried a different approach "please, you wouldn't want to disappoint B.." Quinn was unmoved so Santana switched her focus to where Berry was trying to edge away," surely manhands you couldn't be that heartless - even if you only have a teeny tiny hobbit heart..."

"And now you need to apologise to Rachel too," added Quinn. Yet another intense glaring match followed.

"Santana Maria Bernadette G.." began Quinn. Of the many things she had on Santana only her full name had the power to embarrass her - although how George came to be in there remained a mystery that Santana was tight lipped over even when completely inebriated.

"Fine then," caved Santana before wrestling with every word of apology " I'm...sorry.."

"For what?" demanded Quinn.

"That you swore at me " exclaimed Santana after yet more eyeballing of each other.

"And?" insisted Quinn, before prompting Santana with a gesture towards Rachel – or where she thought Rachel was. Rachel was at that moment busy easing the door of her car open and trying to evade Judy's attempt to catch up with her.

" For leaving you to the clutches of the singing smurf..." Santana made a final attempt at humour to no avail.

"Santana Mar.." Quinn threatened

" For calling dwarfette..um.. ah..Berry names that accurately reflect her stature," sighed Santana. The things she did for Brit.

It was the last part of the conversation that Rachel overheard as she quietly closed the car door. She knew her presence was no longer required - or noticed even. Santana and Quinn were now in the midst of an apparent verbal slanging match judging by the grand gestures and muffled annoyed tones. Rachel dragged her gaze away - Sarah was expecting her.

The sound of Rachel's car starting caused the Fabray-Lopez shouting and staring match to end in a sudden draw as they both turned to see the car speed out of the driveway in a very un-Rachel like manner. So even Rachel hadn't been listening to her own lengthy expositions on responsible driving as an ethical and moral imperative particularly for teenagers.

"And there goes any hope of a positive answer to movie night," observed Quinn morosely, "I'm only coming if Rachel does and she," Quinn had to pause to control the emotions that threatened to wash over her, "is never going to speak to me again."

Santana was off running after Rachel's car and so didn't hear the end of Q's self-pitying mutterings. By the time she'd returned, after being completely ignored by a speeding Berry, stoic Q was back and giving Santana what she recognised as a rarely used but deadly serious 'don't ask' look. This time the Santana apology was a softly spoken yet serious one. Her confiding to Q how intensely she disliked Brittany being disappointed with her was accepted as the peace offering it was meant to be. Quinn offered no reciprocal confessions.

"I think movie night's a non-starter," finally ventured Quinn. She didn't expand on the statement.

Santana snorted, "yeah right, you just need to ask Berry to go, she's always been a sucker about trying to please you even when you weren't a couple, just text her."

Quinn's quiet "no" was cut off by Santana's suddenly enthusiastic, "Wait. Wait..I've got it. Even better,"

Santana was pacing around Quinn making animated hand gestures as she fleshed out her inspired plan.

"Suggest Berry doesn't come to Movie night because she deserves so much more than..,"

Quinn's "No" was brushed aside as Santana became further enamoured with her plan.

"wasting her evening with the unholy trinity, who so mercilessly used to bully her - let a hint of self-loathing into your voice – and then forcefully insist she doesn't attend, it isn't fair to her yadda yadda,"

Quinn voiced a more emphatic, "No."

"And voila," Santana could barely contain her delight at her cunning," Two things that never fail to lure Berry in – acting contrary to a direct instruction and racing in to save a self-loathing Q from herself – it's perfect.."

'NO," Quinn made sure Santana was clear on the matter and cut off all pleas to the length of their friendship, just this one time, for Brittany, until finally Santana lapsed into curses about the misplaced Fabray pride and arrogance.

"You want Rachel there then you ask her," Quinn finally added, "I'm not going to..to..exploit...or take advantage of..her ..trusting nature"

Santana gave Quinn a long considered look before saying, "A bit late for that Q but whatever. You're liting my options where was Berry racing off to anyway," Santana quickly had her phone to her ear as Quinn muttered sullenly about Rachel going to the Lima bean to meet someone.

"Last chance? "offered Santana as she waited for her call to be answered. Quinn shook her head - the sympathetic look she received from Santana was extremely unsettling.

Santana's focus switched to the phone. She dropped her voice to a low serious tone and said clearly "Operation Bag-a-Bilbo is a go. Try the Lima Bean " and ended the call.

Santana faced a clearly concerned Quinn and grinned, "It seems Lima's very own hobbit is about to star in a highly personalised version of the unexpected journey."