Name- Driving Me Delirious (Originally 'Road Trippin')

Rating- M (Language and later Smut)

Full Summary (The Trip)- Quinn Fabray is stuck in California after missing the buss and plane that her luggage and friends took back to Ohio. Santana Lopez was loving her new life in Long Beach until she was informed of her Abuela's declining health back in Lima. When Santana offers Quinn a ride in her van back to Ohio, Quinn's first thought is, "No! She's trying to kidnap me!" But then again, we all know that Lucy Quinn Fabray would never want to miss her senior Prom.

Updates- Sundays (And the occasional Saturday)

Author's Note- So, I've been working on this one for a while. I haven't given up on Lover I Don't Have To Love, but I'm having some intense writers block in that area. Any way, on with the story.

Disclaimer For The WHOLE story- I in no way own Glee.

And a thanks- scwritings has been helping me with this from the beginning and you guys should totally check out her story 'Take My Breath Away'.

Part One- The Trip

Chapter One- With Or Without You?

This is bad. Really bad. I looked around the Hotel parking lot about twelve times before finally sitting down on the curb, hugging my knees close to my chest. What the hell have I gotten myself into.

I blame Kitty. If she didn't leave behind her stupid hair dryer, I wouldn't have had to run back to our room to grab it, I wouldn't have found it under the bed (seriously, who hides a hair dryer under the bed?), and I wouldn't have missed the busses to the airport, and now, I'll probably miss the plane.

That's not the worst part. They took my luggage with them. All I have is about fifteen dollars, an iPhone thats on thirty five percent, and a Yogurt from the Hotel's breakfast menu. How the hell am I supposed to get to the airport before- I glanced at my watch, it's already seven fifty two. I pulled my phone from my pocket, and rolled my eyes when I saw countless missed calls and text messages. I called Marley, she'd be the calmest. I really don't need screaming right now.

"Quinn Fabray, where on Earth are you?" She yelled. Ouch. I pulled the phone away and put her on speaker, then balanced my phone on my lap.

"I'm in front of The Westin," I told her.

"Why are you there? You should be in the airport with us!"

I rolled my eyes. Duh. "Well, I missed the bus. Tell Kitty that I'm going to toss her hair

dryer over the balcony." I smiled faintly when Kitty shouted 'No!' in the background.

"You better get here soon, our flight leaves in seven minutes!"

"Would you stop shouting?" I hissed through my teeth. "I know that. Only, Britt has all of my belongings. My passport and all of my credit cards are in my purse. I only have a little cash on me, I don't think I can make it to the airport-"

"Quinn! You can't think like that!"

I groaned. Now was not the time for her can-do attitude. "Put Mercedes on the phone. Now."

"Alright, but-"

"Marley!"

"Fine," she mumbled. After a few seconds, I could basically feel Mercedes's attitude through the phone.

"Where the Hell are you? Marley told me you're at the Hotel, but I know that's bull."

I exhaled a dry chuckle. "It's true. I don't know what to do, Cedes."

"Okay. First, I need you to relax-"

"I am relaxed," I said honestly.

"Well then I need to relax," she paused. "You better be in California in time for Prom."

"I know!" This time I yelled. I've been planning for my senior Prom since the third grade. Now, it's in about seventy two hours, and I'm two thousand, three hundred and eighty nine miles away. "This is a nightmare. I don't have enough cash for the ticket, and I can't ask mom send me money because she thinks I'm at Brittany's and- what do I do?"

"What about that guy you spent most of the trip talking about? What was his name? Cliff?"

I rolled my eyes. "Biff."

"Like that's any better."

"I'm going to call him. My phone might die within the next hour or so-"

"Why isn't your phone charged?" She yelled.

"I let Brittany play that game she likes all night! Ask her!" I shook my head. "Alright. I'll call you back. I'm going to ask Biff to take me to the airport. If I don't make it, then-"

"You're making it seem like you're dying or something."

"Mercedes, I might miss my senior Prom. I am dying." I hung up and dialed Biff.

"Hello?" A female voice asked. I was taken back. Maybe it's his sister?

"Hi, is Biff there?"

"Who is this?" She snapped.

"Er, this is Quinn. Who is th-"

"His girlfriend," she said. I hung up. I am so over California. I heard a sob. It didn't come from me- at least, I don't think it did. I looked behind me, and sure enough, a girl was crying and stuffing her phone back in her pocket. She muttered a few things in Spanish, then looked at me. Her sad expression left without any evidence that it was ever there (other than her red eyes and slightly damp cheeks) and was replaced by a scowl. She looked kind of familiar.

"Take a picture, it would last longer," she rasped. I could tell that if she hadn't been crying only seconds before, her words would have sounded a bit more menacing.

"No thanks," I replied. She sniffled. I hesitantly patted the curb beside me. After a few painfully awkward seconds, she grudgingly sat down. Not exactly where I recommended, but a little further down. Not too far. "Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't," she said immediately. I arched an eyebrow.

"Then why weren't you?"

"Well, I don't see how that's your business."

"It's not," I shrugged. Silence.

"Why are you out here?" She asked. I looked at her. Why should I tell her? She refused to tell me why she was so obviously sobbing, quit obnoxiously I might add. You know what? I don't care at this point.

"I missed the bus," I said. I checked the time on my phone. "And my flight back to Ohio. And, at this point, I'm probably going to miss my Prom."

"That sucks. Prom was one of the best nights of my high school career. From what I remember at least."

"You graduated?" I asked. She nodded.

"Mhm."

"So you're…"

"Nineteen going on twenty," she said. "What's your name, blondie?"

"Quinn."

"Well, Quinn, you're in for a treat. I just so happen to be on my way to Ohio."

"Why?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm leaving in about twenty minutes- are you coming with me?"

I looked at her and cut my eyes. "How do I know you're not just trying to kidnap me?"

She shrugged. "You don't. I'm going up to my room to pack. Then I'm getting in my car and driving to the Gas station. Am I doing that with or without you?"

"Can I at least know your name?"

"Santana," she told me. "Santana Lopez."

I held out my hand for her to take. "Quinn Fabray." She stared at my hand for a few seconds, and I could see confliction in her eyes. Finally, she took it.

"Nice to meet you, Prom Queen."

Santana's Hotel room was a mess.

I wonder if she stayed here alone, but I know better than to ask. She doesn't really like questions. She was stuffing unfolded clothes into random suitcases, which she had about three of. My phone buzzed. For a second, I panicked. What if it was dying already? I took it out of let out a sigh of relief. It was just Mercedes.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Where are you? We are walking on the Plane- did Biff drop you off?"

"His girlfriend wouldn't have liked that," I mumbled. Santana looked at me curiously, but I waved her off. She shrugged and went back to tossing things in her bag. She'd moved onto flat irons and tooth paste.

"What the hell are you going to do, Quinn?" Mercedes sighed.

"I'll make it."

"How?"

"I'm hitching a ride with someone I met."

"Quinn! Are you crazy, girl? You're going to be on the News, dug up from a ditch!" She shouted. I rolled my eyes.

"She wouldn't do that," I turned to Santana. "Would you kill me and bury me in a ditch?" I asked her. She nodded.

"Absolutely," she said nonchalantly.

"She said she wouldn't," I told Mercedes. "Look, I'm going to buy a cheap charger as soon as possible. My phone is at twenty percent, so I'll call you back then."

"Please, Quinn. Please be safe."

"I will be. I'll see you in Ohio, okay We'll get ready for Prom together."

"I love you girl. Don't do anything stupid."

"You mean like hop in a car with a stranger for a impromptu thirty four hour road trip? Wouldn't dream of it." I hung up.

"Where's all your stuff?" Santana asked me. I put my phone in my pocket.

"On it's way to Ohio."

"So you don't have anything?" She started unbuttoning her pants. My eyes widened, and she rolled her's. "Cool it, Prom Queen. I'm just changing. I got a little syrup on my jeans." I nodded, but looked away as she slid on some shorts. "Help me with my bags?"

"Sure." She took two, and I took one. All of her suitcases had wheels.

Santana's car was a mess.

It was one of those vans that you'd see on every stereotypical California beach commercial. The outside was a dim, faded light blue. There were three rows. In the back, there were two long surf boards. Random clothing was scattered on the floor, along with food wrappers and empty beer bottles.

"Baby," Santana smiled. It took me a second to see that she was talking about the car. Her hand traced the trunk's handle before she yanked on it to open it. She tossed her suitcases in, but I placed them carefully. Without a word, she went to the driver's seat. I went to the passengers. The steering wheel looked like someone made it at home. It was brown, a large brown circle that was flat instead of in front of her. It was about a foot above her lap.

"Nice car," I commented.

"Thanks," she was proud. "I bought her and fixed her up with my brother."

"Her?"

"Cher," she told me as she started the engine. It was loud. Cher was loud.

"Where does your brother live?" I asked.

"I have a lot of brothers," she looked over her shoulder as she backed out of the hotel parking lot.

"The one that helped you fix Cher."

"Ohio."

I smiled. "So that's why you're going. To see your brother?"

She pursed her lips. They were plump. Wait, what? "You could say that." I hummed in response. "So, what brought you to Cali?"

"My idiotic friends. They kidnapped me."

"So you have a thing for kidnappers," she quirked an eyebrow. "Wanky." I rolled my eyes. What does that even mean?

"I don't," I told her. She shrugged. "They thought it would be fun to go to a beach. We don't have many nice beaches in Lima-"

"I know."

I looked at her curiously, but it was clear she wasn't going to explain. So I continued. "And where are the best beaches?"

"Mexico," she deadpanned.

"Maybe I'll go there next time."

Silence.

"So, do you live in Long Beach?" I asked her.

"Somewhat. I like to travel."

"Where have you been so far?"

She looked at me with a mischievous smile, then pulled over.

"You really are going to kill me," I said nervously. She rolled her eyes.

"Calm down, Prom Queen." When we were pulled over, I eyed her curiously. She turned her back to me, then started to lift up her shirt.

"Listen, I don't really-"

"Just look." On the center of her back, there was a map. Only a few of the places were colored in. "One day, the whole map will be finished. Then I'll get another."

"That's… interesting."

"Hm?"

"I've never seen anything like that before."

"Well, people aren't all that creative in Lima."

She's right. I don't think I'd ever get a tattoo.

The windows were rolled down. Her dark hair was whipping around. The radio was up pretty loud, but her voice was louder. It was nice. She was singing to 'Uptown Funk'.

"This shit, that ice cold, Michelle Pfeiffer, that white gold. This one, for them hood girls Them good girls- Straight masterpieces!" I blushed when she pointed at me. She could be in Glee club. But she doesn't seem like the type that would enjoy it. Then again, neither do I. I decided to join in.

"Stylin', while in, Livin' it up in the city. Got Chucks on with Saint Laurent, Gotta kiss myself, I'm so pretty!" I sang. When the song was over, she turned it down. We were still a giggling mess when she pulled into the gas station.

"Pretty," she said as she unbuckled, "-you're voice, I mean."

"Thanks," I smiled.

"Do you need anything?" She asked, pointing at the small Gas Station. I shook my head.

"Alright. Well, I'll be right back."

While she waited in line, I grew restless. These seats are comfortable, but I need to stretch out my legs. I got out of the car, then leaned against the door. Someone whistled. I turned to see who it was, knowing I wouldn't recognize them. I did. There stood Biff, with his clean cut hair, and his three piece suit. And no girlfriend on his arm. He smiled at me.

"I didn't know you drove a bus," he said playfully. I crossed my arms. "Come on, you mad at me?"

I glanced at Santana, who was handing money to the man over the counter. I smirk rested on my lips. "No, I'm not."

"Really?" He was taken back. Santana, I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. "My, uh-"

"Girlfriend? Oh, we had a nice chat," I chuckled. "I forgot to ask her if we could go on a double date."

"What?" He deadpanned. Santana was approaching us, eyeing Biff uneasily.

"Babe," I smiled at her. She arched an eyebrow.

"What?" She didn't step back when I tangled our fingers. I pulled her close.

"That's Biff. He's a douche bag," I whispered. I kissed her cheek.

"Baby, are you ready for our road trip?" She asked me. I nodded cheerfully.

"Baby?" Biff asked. His expression was torn. "Does she know about me?" He completely ignored the fact that Santana could hear him.

"I'm aware, Preppy." She kissed my neck, then looked at Biff. "Of how bad in bed you were. Seriously? Less than a minute?" How could she guess that?

"You told her!"

"Well, yeah. When you get back together with your girlfriend of five years, honesty is the best policy," Santana shrugged. Biff glared at me. "Now, if you'll excuse us," she said. Without letting go of my hand, she opened the passenger door for me. I wiggled my fingers at Biff, then hopped up and into the van. After filling up the tank, she winked at him. He got in his car and drove away.

"Thank you," I breathed out. She shrugged.

"I got to kiss you."

"Not really," I smiled. She looked at me with a quirked eyebrow. "I'm kidding!" I laughed. She rolled her eyes.

"Don't play with me, Fabray. I'll take you."

"Take me where?" I teased.

"In the back of my van," she deadpanned. My cheeks and ears went hot. She laughed. "I'm kidding!" She glanced at me, "Maybe."

"Do you even know where you're going?" I asked her. She nodded.

"First, we have to get out of California. I'm thinking maybe we can stop in-"

"No stops," I pleaded. "I can't miss Prom."

"In LA to get some Rosco's," she rolled her eyes. I let out a sigh of relief. "Their waffles are to die for."

"Cool."

The radio was low, she was humming to it. I think something by Maroon Five was playing. "You're a good actress," I told her.

She shrugged. "It's fun."

"Did you act in school?"

She shook her head. I figured. "Do you have a date to Prom?"

"No," I said. "My date decided to go with someone else."

"How are you going to win Prom Queen?"

I smiled. "How did you know I ran for it?"

"Please, you basically scream 'Four point O GPA, head Cheerleader, and HBIC."

"What was that last one?" I looked at her.

"Head bitch in charge," she told me.

"Well, you're right. But, I'm also in Glee Club."

"Why?" she laughed.

"At first, to destroy it from the inside. Now, because I Iove it."

She nodded. "I'll tell you what. I'll be your date to Prom."

"No way."

"Why not? I'm hot. You'd have the hottest bitch on your arm."

"You didn't even buy a ticket," I pointed. She shrugged.

"I have a few favors in Ohio to cash in. So?"

"Okay. But I have to say, I was hoping to be asked a little more extravagantly."

"Oh, excuse me your highness," she laughed. I smiled. She really is something special.

A/N- Let me know what you think? See you next Sunday!