Heuristic: There's No Us In Success

12

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'.