Can't Take My Eyes Off You || Quinntana

Thirty

Quinn awoke to the soft sound of piano, a strange sense of deja vu striking her. Pulling on a random oversized t shirt, she walked quietly to the study. She could have made her presence known, as Santana was finally getting comfortable with Quinn hearing her music, but she decided to linger silently in the doorway. There was something about the way Santana glowed when she sang alone, performing for nobody but herself.

As the song came to an end, Quinn walked up to her girlfriend and gave her a hug from behind.

"Good morning, babe. New song?"

Santana turned her head to kiss Quinn on the cheek.

"Yeah. I want to submit it in my application, but there's just something missing."

"Hm," Quinn pondered. "Maybe you'll figure it out once you've eaten something. Chocolate chip pancakes?"

Santana grinned. "Will you make a smiley face on mine?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Anything for you, princess."

Santana resumed her piano playing, then turned around to stare at Quinn, who had yet to leave.

"What's that stupid grin for?"

"Remember the last time we were in here together?" Quinn reminisced.

"When you were totally snooping on me? Yeah, I remember."

"I'm really proud of how far you've come."

Santana let out a groan. "Please just go make my smiley face pancakes. I can't deal with emotions before noon."

With a giggle, Quinn made her way to the kitchen. As she walked, her ears clung to the soft sound of Santana's music, slowly fading the further away she got.

. . .

"I like seeing you wearing my clothes," Quinn remarked, eating a forkful of pancake. Santana had opted for some of Quinn's sweatpants and a t shirt with no bra, because, let's face it, she would not fit into one of Quinn's.

"I like seeing you wearing no clothes," Santana smirked.

Quinn blushed profusely, unable to come up with a snarky response.

"Can I ask you something serious?" Santana asked, Quinn perking up. "I'm better in bed than Puck, right?"

Quinn made a show of contemplating this, scratching her chin and mumbling to herself.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray, I am very serious."

"Ooh, we're using full names. Alright. Yes, Santana Diabla Lopez, you are much better than Puck. I was pretty drunk when I slept with him, but I'm pretty sure I didn't even...you know."

Santana shrugged, pleased with the answer. "That checks out."

"With you, I must have at least three times."

"Four," Santana corrected, a smirk on her lips. "I counted."

"I didn't even know that was possible."

"That's the power of the female body."

Quinn looked up at the calendar hanging on the wall, having completely lost track of time over the past few days.

"Oh, shit," she groaned. "Judy is coming home tomorrow. Today's our last day of peace."

Santana looked slightly amused. "I've never heard you call your mom by her first name before."

Quinn shrugged. "I'm unlearning the behavior of worshipping someone who makes me feel terrible about myself."

"Fair."

"Anyway," Quinn searched for a topic change, "What do you want to do today? Obviously, we should do some recording, but we should also enjoy our last day of bliss."

Santana bit her lip, the way she always did when she was thinking deeply. It was one of Quinn's favorite habits of hers. For a second, her spunky demeanor was stripped down, replaced by pure thoughtfulness.

"Ice skating."

It was not the answer Quinn expected, but it sparked some excitement. Santana went home to change, and they agreed to meet at the rink in an hour.

. . .

"Have you never ice skated before?" Santana said with amusement, watching Quinn attempt to find her balance.

Finally getting both skates firmly planted on the ground, Quinn replied, "I took lessons when I was five, but apparently, they didn't stick."

"Well, you're lucky you have me to hold onto."

Quinn, suddenly defensive, stated, "Actually, I can do it myself, thank you." She let go of Santana's hand, took a few steps forward, and fell on her butt.

Santana reached her hand out, pulling the girl back up. "You're cute when you get defensive."

"You're not cute when you get smug."

The rink was outdoors, allowing the gently falling snow to set a perfect winter scene. There were garlands and lights strung around for ambiance. Hidden speakers were playing holiday classics.

Once the girls were tired out, they found a bench by the rink, sipping hot cocoa from a nearby stand. River by Joni Mitchell began to play.

"This has to be the most depressing Christmas song I have ever heard," Santana remarked. "Wait, isn't this the one Rachel butchered last year trying to get it into the TV special?"

"Hey, don't disrespect Joni Mitchell like that. The song isn't depressing, it's more melancholy. And please never associate her music with Rachel Berry again."

Santana grinned. "I get defensive Quinn twice in one day. How lucky am I."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Wait," Santana continued, "Joni Mitchell is the one who wrote that song you sang at the coffee shop, yeah?" Despite the freezing cold weather, the memory of the over-the-phone performance brought her warmth.

Quinn nodded. "She's a musical genius," she said matter-of-factly.

Santana interlaced her gloved fingers with Quinn's. Their hands were a perfect fit, as always. They had a way of making each other better. She had a sudden realization.

"I know what the song is missing."

Quinn cocked her head to the side.

"It's missing you. It needs to be a duet."

Quinn looked down at her feet. "Thats sweet, San, but you know that you're a much better singer than me. I'll only hurt your chances of getting in."

Santana placed her hot cocoa beside her, using her now free hand to gently hold Quinn's cheek. She turned her face to look directly into her eyes.

"I'm serious, Quinn. You're what's missing."

She looked from the blonde's green eyes, noting each fleck of gold, down to her lips, soft and full as ever. Gently, she pulled her face in, connecting their lips.

For a moment, it was just them, alone in the most picturesque winter scene imaginable.

Pulling away, she couldn't help but smile at how red Quinn's cheeks had gotten.

"You'll do it?" She pleaded.

"Whatever you want."

Wow, I can't believe this is the thirtieth chapter. I started writing this story on a whim last summer, not even planning on publishing it. I'm glad so many of you have been reading it and enjoying it. Thank you all for your support :)