Two Years Later

"Hi, I'm Santana and I'll be your waitress today. What can I get you?" She smiled and took the couple's order. She wrote it down on her note pad and took it to the kitchen, yelling, "Order up!"

She glanced at the clock then felt someone nudge her. She turned to see a man in his late forties grinning at her. He flipped a burger and asked her what her hurry was.

"I just want to get to the bookstore before it closes." She said nodding across the street to a bookstore that had opened a year ago.

"Ah." The man said. "I will never understand your fascination with books."

"Well, Marley, if you picked up more than Maxim every now and then you'd know."

"Ouch, that stings." He chuckled. "Well we don't have many customers, so take off."

"Really?" She asked, not wanting to leave him and the others to themselves for the day."

"Yeah. Go ahead." She thanked him and shrugged on her coat before stepping out into the chilly New York air. She hummed to herself as she made her way across the street to her favorite bookstore.

She had found it by complete accident. It was a winter day about a year ago and the rain had started so suddenly. She had ducked into the nearest building for cover and happened to find Greenberg Bookstore. As soon as she entered the smell of books took her by surprise and she glanced around. The sight was magnificent; books of every color lined the walls and little aisles in the center. There was a section for everything it seemed. Mystery, supernatural, romance, kids, teens, comic book nerds. She loved it immediately.

Now, she walked into the bookstore and let the smell of books waft over her and comfort her in a way no one else could. She let her fingers brush over the mysteries before making her way to the classics section. She had taken a liking to the oldies. She had never been much of a reader in high school, always too busy with Cheerios and glee club and being a royal bitch to everyone and everything. But that all changed senior year when Finn had outed her and—Nope. She couldn't go down that thought trail.

She reached for a copy of the Great Gatsby. Just as she was about to grab it, someone's hand brushed hers. She pulled her hand away and apologized, not bothering to look at the person before turning to another book.

"Santana?" The voice, a little older, but she knew that voice. She turned and met hazel-green eyes. "Oh my God. It is you." A beautiful smile.

Santana stood staring at a girl she never thought she'd see again. "Quinn." Santana practically croaked.

"Well don't look so happy to see me." Her smiled had dropped a bit.

"No. No. I am. I'm just surprised. I didn't know you were in New York."

"Um, yeah. About a year into college, I transferred to NYU." Quinn smiled and shuffled the copy of the Great Gatsby in her hands. "To major in film."

"Really? That's great!" Santana said. "How's that going for you?"

"Ah, you know, same ole, same ole."

"That's cool. So you live here?" Santana asked, knowing the answer. Quinn nodded.

"So, how's Brittany? Is she here?" Quinn smiled, oblivious to the events that went down in LA. Santana's arm dropped the happy smile dropping to be replaced with a frown.

"When was the last time you talked to Brittany?" Santana asked, her voice cool, neutral.

"Um, two, three months ago." Quinn frowned, confused.

"I left Brittany two years ago Quinn." Santana said softly.

"You left her? But, you were so in love…" Quinn obvious didn't have a clue as to what was going on.

"It's a long story Quinn." Santana said brushing her hair back and rubbing her forehead.

"So let's get coffee and catch up. I've missed you, S." Quinn looked at her with her big hazel-green eyes and Santana lost all resistance. How could you say no to that face?

"Okay. " She sighed.

"Yay!" Quinn cheered.

"I think Berry rubbed off on you." Santana chuckled.

Quinn looked up, mortified. Santana burst into loud laughter. The kind of laughter she hadn't had in two years. It felt good. They set out to a coffee shop that Quinn said was to die for. She said it would take about thirty minutes to walk there but Santana didn't mind. On the way, they talked about their lives since they had arrived in New York. Quinn had more to say since Santana had wallowed in self-pity for months before setting out to do anything. She told Quinn about her job at Brightstone Diner and how she lived at least a block from the diner. About Marley and how he was like the dad of the group. How how she hadn't gone to a single bar in New York or slept with anyone in two years to which Quinn looked at her like she had grown two heads and had one whacked off.

Quinn seemed to be doing good. She had graduated NYU top of her class and gotten an internship at a great film company. Of course that job mostly included getting coffee and making copies but Quinn wasn't complaining. Quinn had an apartment in Queens and even had a dog. Quinn seemed to have a good life going for her.

"So here we are." They reached the quaint little coffee shop and took their seats. Santana picked up the small menu and looked it over. "What'll you have?"

"I'll have an Irish Crème coffee." Santana said in reply, tucking the menu back into its slot. The waiter came and took their order. Santana smiled amusedly when he paid little attention to her and focused mostly on Quinn. Quinn seemed oblivious and gave him a polite smile. He smiled flirtatiously at her before putting their order in. Santana burst into laughter as soon as he was gone.

"What?" Quinn asked. "Seriously, what?"

"That waiter," laughter, "is totally into you."

"No, he isn't."

"Yes, he is." Santana said, laughing. She replicated his smile. "He was flirting with you."

"Oh my God. He was." She dropped her head into her hands. "What am I going to do? He's totally not my type."

"I see." Santana asked. Placing her chin in her hand and leaning forward.

"So," Quinn started. "I won't force you to tell me what happened but I would like to know."

Santana sighed. The carefree air had suddenly become stifling. She took a deep breath and began her tale. "I was going to the pre med at UCLA. I was at classes most of the time and Brittany had gotten into a dance company so she was busy. Our relationship was falling apart. When I was home, I was studying and she'd want to do something. We argued when I was at home. It got to where she wouldn't try anymore. And I wouldn't either. She'd stay out late with her friends. I would study or go to the library. We weren't even friends anymore really. One day I came home early. It was our anniversary and I wanted to surprise her with her favorite dinner.

"I heard them before I got to the room. I opened the door and there she was. In our bed with a guy from her company. It hurt more, you know? That it was a guy. Like because I didn't have a dick, I wasn't good enough or something. I don't think it would have stung so much if it was a girl. I told her I hated her. I didn't think it was possible but at that moment I hated her more than I had ever hated anyone or anything. I hated her more than I hated Coach Sylvester. " Quinn winced at that, knowing just how much Santana had hated Coach Sylvester. The waiter cam back at that moment.

"Can I get you anything else?" Completely ignoring Santana and focusing on Quinn. Quinn seemed to realize this and glanced at Santana, irritated.

"Another coffee." She said. "Anything for you?"

"Same."

When the waiter left Quinn sighed in irritation. "That is so rude."

"The waiter flirting with you?" Santana asked, confused.

"No, him completely ignoring you." Santana laughed.

"Guys do that when they flirt."

The waiter arrived once again and set the mugs down once again smiling at Quinn. "You sure I can't get you anything else?"

"No thank you." Quinn gave a polite smile. "Wait! I need two to-go cups." She glanced over at Santana. "We'll be leaving now."

The waiter nodded and left to get the cups and their check. Santana sighed, feeling the emotions of the past hour catch up to her. She suddenly felt drained. The waiter came back and handed them their things. He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked at Quinn.

"So, uh, I was thinking..."

"Sorry, man. You're not her type." Santana spoke up to save him from what was to be sure embarrassment.

"Oh, uh, ok." He said and awkwardly walked away. Quinn gave her a grateful smile before they walked into the cool night, making small talk.

"So, I guess this is goodnight." Quinn said, grinning at Santana.

"I guess so." Santana said, grinning back. "Hey, let me have your phone."

Quinn gave her a puzzled look. Santana huffed impatiently. Quinn warily gave Santana her phone.

"I'm giving you my number. I had fun and wanna hang out again."

"Oh! Okay. That'll be cool."

"Alright. Text me. Bye." Santana waved goodbye to Quinn then set out to home with the smallest of smiles on her lips.