They're in line at the Lima Bean for their Saturday morning coffee when one of them actually chooses to comment on it. Santana just rolls her eyes because she's been waiting for one of them to say it for days, but refused to be the idiot who stated the obvious.

"This is quite possibly the most boring summer ever," Quinn sighs softly, staring blankly out of the window. "Ever."

Without Cheerios, without any sort of popularity to garner them invites to any social gathering, they've discovered that there's little to do in this town. They're just left hovering around, staring blankly and paying attention to the most mundane of things, going to the most uninteresting places just for something to do so they don't melt into their couches.

It's been two weeks since the end of school. They've been hanging out since New York; it's kind of nice having some company who wants to not talk as much as they do. It's been two weeks of waving goodbye to their friends as they go off on their own adventures and watching the multitude of nineties sitcoms that Santana owns on DVD.

Tina and Mike were first; they left for Asian camp the first Saturday morning of summer vacation. Puck was next, choosing to follow Lauren on her country-wide wrestling tour. Santana didn't even want to think about why and Quinn kind of just went green at the thought. Artie was next, visiting his Grandma in Cincinnati for a week. Still pissed at them, for Nationals in Santana's case and the obvious in Quinn's, they had refused to acknowledge anything done by Rachel and Finn. Kurt and Blaine had mentioned something about the four of them doing community theater, but Santana had shut that mention down before they'd got past the first sentence. That was the afternoon that Brittany left for Colorado with her parents, giving both her and Quinn hugs on her driveway. Santana still smiles when she remembers the kiss on the cheek Brittany had snuck her when no one else was looking.

That was six days ago and now it's just them wasting away as they search desperately for something to do. But what can they do in a barren land that had nothing more than a multiplex and a video store?

"Yeah," Santana huffs as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Ever."

/

Her parents come home from work at midnight and she tries not to jump when they slam the door as they come in. She's usually asleep by the time they get home, but for once it's before the sun rises that they wander into the living room and give her bright smiles like it's the middle of the day.

"Hey, Cookie," her dad says as he takes off his jacket. He bends to press a kiss to her forehead and she smiles despite her usual antagonism, relishing in the affection. "We didn't think you'd still be awake. We need to talk to you."

Her mind buzzes, trying to remember anything she might have done that would call for this intervention, but she comes up short. Her parents sit beside her, her mom at her feet and dad on the arm of the couch beside her with a hand resting atop her head.

"We're worried about you."

She give them her usual scowl, and they laugh. They alwayslaugh.

That's the funny thing; most people think that her parents are the reason she is the way she is, but they're not. They might not be around all the time, but they're still parents. They still want to know how their kid is when they get home, or want to kick her ass when she does something she shouldn't. Just like she's still a teenage girl who wants her nosy parents to stay the heck out of her business.

"Mrs Bailey called us. She said that you hadn't moved from where you were three days ago when she came by to do the laundry yesterday."

That's another thing about Santana's parents. They're always looking for the things that might be wrong.

"We had a Roseannemarathon. I got the DVDs."

Her dad snorts and her mom rests a hand on her ankle. It's such a familiar action that Santana would barely notice it normally. But it's been such a long time since she got any kind of affection that the hand resting atop her messy head of hair and the fingers curled around her ankle make her feel more tethered to the world than she has done in a long while.

"Well, you know it's mine and your dad's anniversary." The widening of Santana's eyes betrays that, no, she didn't know that. Well, she did, but she completely forgot. Her mom rolls her eyes and her dad slowly scratches his fingers in her hair. "Well, it's next week and we're just worried to leave you alone while we go on the cruise."

Santana's sighs. Oh, yeah. The cruise. Another crappy thing about this summer, stopping her from having some actual fun.Because her parents are going on a stupid month-long cruise around the world, they're not going to her Grandma's house in Key West like they usually do. So, instead, she gets four weeks in an empty house with regular visits from Mrs Bailey their annoying cleaning lady making sure she hasn't died or spilled soda on the carpet again.

She shrugs. "I'll be fine."

Her father eyes curiously. "Where are your friends? Where's Brittany?"

Santana shrugs and tries to ignore the little flip her heart gives at the mention of her best friend. "I don't know. Quinn's at a family thing tonight, but everyone else has gone somewhere. Brittany's in Colorado for three weeks with her folks."

Her dad nudges her until there's enough room to sit beside her. "Then why don't you do something?"

She rolls her eyes. "We're in Lima, Dad. Watching Roseanne Barr for four days straight is as exciting as it gets. The only joy I get is when the delivery guy drops off my Amazon orders."

"Why don't you go see Grandma?" he says and she grimaces, earning herself a slap to the leg from her mother. "I know, I know. That place is like a commune for old hippies, but why don't you fly down there and stay at the Keys anyway? You can take Quinn, catch a tan, go snorkeling."

Her mom cuts through Santana's excitement with her usual responsible parenting. It's always the same: Dad's the good cop, Mom's the bad.

"I don't think that's a good idea, leaving two seventeen year-olds alone in a house together."

"She'll be with Quinn. I trust Quinn," her mother gives him a disapproving look and he scoffs. "So what if she got pregnant one time? Come on, it's not fair that she doesn't get to go just because we won't be there."

Her mother doesn't look so sure, but she gives in when Santana grins up at her pleadingly. Her mother's eyes roll just like her daughter's do and she shakes her head with a sigh. "You better behave yourself. If anyone get's pregnant, you're in big trouble."

Santana almost snorts, but nods frantically instead mumbling out a promise. Her mother leaves the room for the kitchen and her dad follows once he's pressed proud kiss to her forehead. She's such a closet daddy's girl it's insane.

A minute later, her phone is pressed to her ear and Quinn's picking up with a disapproving groan that grumbles down the line.

"Oh, what the hell ever, Fabray. This is the last time I call you to ask if you wanna come to Florida on Vacation with me free of charge."

/

They agree that no one else should know about the trip, that it's just going to be them because it provides for less drama and she actually starts to feel excited at the prospect of spending four weeks with Quinn Fabray.

Usually, she flies down to Florida to save time, but Quinn convinces her that they should road trip there. Santana's still a little concerned about her friend's mental state for a moment and asks if she's trying to get her to be the Louise to her Thelma, but Quinn rolls her eyes and tells her that she just wants to see the world a little bit.

It's all fine, all secret and exciting, until the Tuesday before they're due to leave. Santana sits reading a magazine in a dark corner of the Lima Bean and Quinn sits across from her, anally writing a list of everything they'll need, trying to figure out if they have enough money, when it all starts going to hell.

"What will we even do for a month once we get there?" Quinn asks as she jots more and more things down. Quinn's almost as bad as Berry, but she doesn't tell her that. "Does your grandma's house have hypoallergenic pillows?"

Santana looks at her incredulously for a moment before ignoring the second question completely. "I don't know what you're going to do, but I plan to do exactly what I did last summer."

"You're getting another boob job?" Quinn asks without looking up.

"Ha. You're funny," she deadpans as Quinn gazes up to smirk at her. "But no. I'm going to spend four entire weeks wearing nothing more than short shorts, a baby tee and a bikini while I think about nothing other than the stupid amount of shrimp I'm going to eat for dinner. Whatever you do is your prerogative, but maybe you should try getting laid or something."

Quinn looks up from the notepad and gives her that sugary sweet smile full of acid. Quinn Fabray's like a glass of damn lemonade. Sweet, but she'll sting if you've got any preexisting open wounds.

"That's the last things on my mind," she informs her. "This is a vacation. We're driving two thousand miles to get away from the troubles of boys. I plan to relax and read on the beach and get over Lima crap."

"But what's life without a little Lima crap?"

They both jump and turn to look at Puck. He looks like he hasn't washed in days and smells like it too. He also has a black eye. His duffel is hanging over his shoulder and he leers at them like they've just told him the world's biggest secret.

"Hey Mamas," he winks. "What's this I hear about a trip?"

/

They threaten castration if he tells anyone, but agree to let him come along. For a while, it seems like a sweet deal. He gives Santana fifty bucks towards gas money, even though she has more than enough, and agrees to get them fake IDs from a guy he knows. Along with the promise of there being five cartons of menthol cigarettes on her dash the morning they leave, just so she'll be able to handle him being there without getting arrested for drunk driving, she's not that worried about sharing a car with Noah Puckerman for three days.

That's until she opens up her front door and finds Artie Abrams sitting there with a tentative smile on his face.

"Puck told me about your trip," he says in lieu of a greeting. Santana feels dread sinking in her gut already. "I was wondering if you would consider letting me come along."

Santana narrows her eyes. There's something not right about this. Sure, they've been getting along since he and Britt became friends again, but they'renot friends and he still looks at her like she's the spawn of Satan every once in a while. Brittany did cheat on him with her, after all. Her brain lists all the ulterior motives he could possibly have before he's managed to wheel himself into her house and into her kitchen.

It's not until he smiles sheepishly, and sips on the coke she shoves at him, that she relaxes.

"I want to move on," he says gently. "I want to get over Brittany, and Tina and this past year. I just need to get out of Lima for a while."

She finds it hard to say no when she can both empathize with his reasons and find hope for herself in them. She makes him promise not to tell and he nods in understanding. She hands him Quinn's itinerary to read and they watch an episode of Cheers before he heads home.

/

Quinn's got her already packed case laid open on Santana's bed and Santana's empty bag sitting beside it as she walks around Santana's room and packs it for her. She's got that frantic, neurotic look about her again, but Santana learned to ignore that years ago. It's not until her front doorbell rings and Quinn actually jumps, that she figures she should worry. Quinn avoids her eye and Santana knows instantly, without a word even being said, what's happening.

"You've got to be freaking kidding me," she spits when she opens her front door and finds Kurt and Blaine stood there. "No. No. No way." She shakes her head, and she feels that bubble of anger in her stomach that usually results in uncontrollable Spanish before she turns to Quinn. "I can't believe you, Quinn Fabray. What the hell happened to keeping it a secret? Is nothing sacred?"

"It slipped out."

She groans and turns back to the two boys on her front stoop. "I thought you were at Six Flags?"

They shrug in response.

"Why the hell would you want to spend four weeks with us?" She asks, already losing hope.

Kurt skips into her living room and shrugs again, Blaine trailing behind him. "I got the travel bug when we went to New York. I have nothing to do this summer, and Blaine didn't get the Six Flags gig."

"We both have a little money saved and we thought we'd see some of the world," Blaine explains to her apologetically. "I can totally understand if you don't want us there, but we've got our own car and we just need somewhere to stay."

Santana groans again and lets a slew of Spanish leave her mouth as she reaches for Quinn's itinerary. She grins in triumph when she throws it and it knocks Kurt's beret from his head.

/

She makes it a requirement that everyone gives her a hundred bucks to come on the trip, hoping that none of them will come up with the cash. Puck's first, handing her another fifty to add to the one that he already gave her. Artie's after, pushing the money at her like a little kid handing over lunch money to a bully, but he asks her if there's anything else she needs and she starts to think that he's just being sincere. Quinn doesn't give her money; she already put half of her savings into their gas fund because she didn't want Santana having that hanging over her. Kurt and Blaine hand her the cash and she burst off into another monologue of Spanish thinking that they wouldn't manage it.

When Rachel Berry arrives at her doorstep with Finn in tow asking to be involved in their cross-country adventure, the first thing Santana does is slam the door in her face and call Kurt to holler down the phone at him. Quinn just watches on as Santana gets angry for her. Their dream of a peaceful trip is suddenly in ruins.

Santana opens the door again and points a warning finger in Rachel's face. "Two hundred bucks. Each. That's the condition. You get the money, you're on the trip. And if you do, you're in Kurt's car. You stay away from us."

/

Rachel comes up with the money. Quinn walks out of the room with a face like thunder to mask her disappointment and sadness. It's already the worst trip ever and it hasn't even started.

Santana asks her if she wants to call the whole thing off.

Quinn shakes her head. "Hopefully she can't swim. That way I can push her overboard on a boating trip and she'll drown."

At the thought, Santana smirks with the possibilities.

/

Tina and Mike skulk back from Asian camp weeks before they're meant to. Quinn tells her, the same night she hears the news from Mercedes, that they got fired for getting caught by some kids doing it in one of the cabins mid-afternoon and eating pizza.

They have the money ready when they knock on Santana's door and she says nothing to them, just takes the cash and slips them a copy of the itinerary Quinn made copies of once Rachel started demanding to know their daily break down and asking what day they're going to Graceland.

Santana packs razorblades and Quinn doesn't question it.

/

They all meet the afternoon before they leave to make sure everyone has everything and organize car seating. Sam and Mercedes arrive together and curiosity sparks in Santana at the sight of them huddled close, but that's quickly over-taken by confusion when they both thrust a hundred bucks into her hand.

"I thought you were homeless and you were busy..." Tina says for her when she just stares at the cash in disbelief.

"My grandma died," Sam explains and they all narrow their eyes at the way he smiles at the fact. He chuckles. "We hated her, but she had more money than we do and we're her only relatives, so..."

Everyone congratulates him, happy to hear that he probably won't have to live in a motel anymore, or spend the summer delivering pizzas. They all eventually turn to the girl beside him but Mercedes shrugs it off.

"I didn't want to miss spending the time with you guys," she explains. "I didn't want to be the only one of the group who's not in on your private jokes and everything, so..."

Santana smiles because, yeah whatever, she kinda likes Wheezy, but then the smile falls when she realizes that there's still one person missing. Well, two, but Lauren wasn't really one of the group and she punched Puck in the eye and sent him home from Kansas without transport.

Santana sighs and tries to force a smile onto her face. The facade works until Quinn looks at her. She shrugs her shoulders softly and doesn't take her eyes off Santana. Santana can tell from the knowing stare that she understands. They stay longer than everyone else and don't say anything as they both quietly regret thinking that this trip was ever a good idea.

/

Quinn spends that night at Santana's to save time in the morning and they stay up late laying on Santana's couches and watching game show re-runs. Santana gets most of the answers right and Quinn takes the opportunity to call her a nerd for knowing so much useless trivia.

"You kinda get to know all kinds of crap when you spend most of your time with Brittany," she mumbles, the TV flickering in her big dark brown eyes. Her quilt wraps around her until she looks like a burrito with her hands poking out the top under her chin and her toes out the bottom.

Quinn turns away from the TV to look at her then, and the relief Santana finds in her eyes tells her that Quinn been waiting for a mention of the name for days. Santana hasn't talked about her, hasn't mentioned her name since they all said goodbye on Brittany's driveway. Not even when Brittany's many various postcards came did she say anything.

She alerts Santana that she's about to say something heavy with the huge in take of air she drags into her lungs. "What happened?" she asks, and Santana loves how there's no awkward small talk, no coaxing of her into admitting that there's something bothering her. Quinn can just tell.

But the reality of the question settles over any other thoughts Santana might have. Her face falls and she curls into herself a little more, eyes still trained on the TV even though she stopped watching it minutes ago.

"Lots of stuff," Santana settles on to avoid saying something that might implicate anything she doesn't want Quinn to know. Not that it matters; she's pretty sure Quinn already knows everything.

Quinn takes in another breath and tilts her head to look at her, curling into her own quilt as she shuffles into the cushions. "So, start at the beginning."

Tears prickle in her eyes and it occurs to her suddenly how much she's missed her best friend. Not Brittany, because missing her is something she does automatically the minute the girl leaves a room and even sometimes when she's still in it. But Quinn. She realizes how much she's missed their sleepovers and how they used to talk all the time. She misses how they would talk and Brittany would get confused and they'd both explain. She misses the times when Brittany would eat too much sugar and then crash ages before either of the other two would and they'd talk about everything and nothing as they let exhaustion kick in. Life was easier back then.

She takes in her own shallow and deep lung full of air, just in case this is one of those times where it hurts to say it. "I'm in love with her," she whispers, and discovers that there's nothing else to say because those words speak for themselves.

The relief is substantial. It feels like she's lifted something heavy from her chest, off her shoulders. Minutes later, sudden exhaustion overcomes her, and she falls gently asleep.

/

She's awoken at six am by Rachel Berry shouting in her driveway at Finn. Quinn hesitates before stopping her when she grabs a knife from the block on the counter and heads for the front door. She doesn't even try to decipher the Spanish. It was inevitable and she already packed her dictionary at the bottom of her bag ready for the trip.

"We brought coffee," Finn says when they've opened the door.

"You're two hours early."

He holds out the cups to them how zookeepers hold out entire animal limbs to hungry lions. It's exactly how they take them from him, like they want his arm to come off too.

/

Half an hour later and thanks to having two empty bathrooms at their disposal to save time, Santana and Quinn arrive back downstairs where Rachel and Finn sit watching Frasier.

"What's he even saying?" Finn mutters to himself and the TV. Santana rolls her eyes as Quinn heads to check everything in their bags.

Rachel stands and hovers around the two girls like a fly, hands clasped in front of her. Santana turns to her and glares until she jumps back.

"I noticed that you've packed a lot of entertainment to take with you," she states, nervously pointing to the bag of DVDs, board games and books she and Quinn carefully spent the last week packing. "Do you anticipate that you'll be bored on this trip? Because if so I can think of many activities that will keep the entire team amused."

Santana pauses and shakes her head. She's still tired. She wants to punch Rachel Berry but she doesn't want everyone to start shouting like she knows they would. She has a headache. She needs a painkiller and for Rachel Berry to not exist. She has to drive hundreds of miles today and she can't do that if she's like this.

"Shut up, Berry." She growls low in her throat. "This is not your trip. This is our trip and you invaded it like Napoleon. This shit is to drown out your incessant harping," she says pointing warningly at the bag too.

"But..." Rachel starts, "The New Directions Key West Summer Vacation needs to be conducted in the true spirit of this club..."

Santana rounds on her and Quinn's hands are around her elbows holding her back before she knows it. "This is not a damn Glee club trip, Berry. This is our damn trip. It's the Taco and Burger Tour of America 2011, dammit!" she says indignantly, Quinn sniggers at the name they joked of days ago. "We're going to visit mygrandmother, we're staying in mygrandmother's house and what I say goes, understood?"

Rachel nods at the menacing calm in her voice. "Un-understood."

/

Half an hour after they'd arranged to meet at Santana's house, the others begin to arrive. Santana glares at Rachel as she opens her mouth to chastise everyone for their tardiness and takes the cup of coffee that Mercedes hands her with a laugh and a hello.

Most of the others get dropped off by disgruntled parents, but Mike and Tina show up in his car and it looks like a hook-up shelter on wheels. There's blankets and pillows, random items of both their clothing. Mike blushes as he gathers up all the crap and throws it into the trunk.

Blaine and Kurt show up after, their car in pristine and perfect condition while smelling like forest fern and Turtle Wax. Kurt's dressed like he's about to go driving in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang while everyone else has been smart enough to wear jeans or sweats to be comfortable. Except for Rachel who still looks like a toddler with her skirts and sweaters, still wearing tights even though summer set in weeks ago. Santana looks down at her jean shorts and tank and decides, yet again, that she's the hottest bitch in this damn club.

"Is everything going to fit in all three cars?" Mike asks nervously, looking at his already partially full trunk that matches Blaine's filled with his and Kurt's suitcases .

The boys spend the next forty minutes debating how to fit the bags into the cars while the girls actually put the bags in the cars. By the time they realize, Santana's already sitting in her car, sorting out her iPod and ignoring her friends as they argue.

It's a little longer before everyone's got everything they need and they're still waiting on Puck. Santana resorts to dashing in and out of her house as she remembers all the things she might need and cursing Puck for making her wait longer than necessary.

Another half hour later, they're all sat in the cars still waiting for Puck when a familiar car parks up and Santana's heart stops as her brain struggles to compute what she's saying. She can't believe it. Puck gets out of the passenger side first, smirking as he steps towards the other cars. He chucks five cartons of menthol cigarettes through Santana's open window and smirks.

It's another few seconds, but then the driver door opens and Santana's eyes widen even more than she thought possible as her mouth drops open. A familiar blond head of hair and a beautiful face emerge lugging a giant duffel bag on their back. Santana laughs in disbelief.

"Hey!" Brittany calls out as she steps around her mother's car to get everyone's attention. "You got room for one more?"

Any other words she might say are drowned out by the screams of her friends as they rush from the car to greet her.

Only Santana and Quinn remain in the front seat of her car. Santana turns to look at Quinn, expecting her to look just as confused as she is, but Quinn smiles knowingly. Santana's face falls as she quickly realizes what's going on and tears prickle in her eyes.

"I called her," Quinn says as explanation. "Told her about the trip."

She jumps out the car without another word and joins the others. Santana just stares at Brittany. She's more tan, her eyes are bluer. She's wearing shorts and a tank too, one of her ridiculous hats perched on her head. She smiles when she catches Santana's eye and leaves the group to walk towards her. She leans in through the open window and smiles lazily.

"So, you got room for one more?" Brittany holds her hand out to give something to her, and Santana lifts an open palm to take it. Brittany drops a few twenty dollar bills into her hand and smiles as she waits for an answer.

Santana rolls her eye, "You didn't have to..."

"I know," Brittany smiles. "But I wanted to be like everyone else." Santana smiles at her nervously. A blush rises up her cheeks. It's been two weeks since they last saw each other and right now, she's never been more aware of the fact. "You gonna give me a hug, or..."

Santana just opens the door and Brittany does the rest. Dropping her bag to the floor, she leans in, climbing onto Santana's lap and wrapping her arms tightly around her best friend. Santana laughs and tries to ignore that the rest of their teammates are watching. Brittany giggles as she scratches her fingers fondly at the back of Santana's neck.

"I missed you," Brittany whispers so softly that she feels it more than hears it. Santana takes a deep breath and clings on tighter. Brittany smells familiar but different, musky like she hasn't changed her clothes in a while. It makes her head spin.

"Missed you too," she mutters against Brittany's shoulder and she doesn't know how she's only just noticed. Brittany pulls away and flops gracefully into the passenger seat beside her. The sudden lack of closeness to Brittany's body stings instantly.

The rest of the team start to climb back into the cars. Brittany stares at her for a while, before picking one of the cigarette cartons from her lap. "You're not smoking these," she says, seconds before she crawls into the back to greet Artie. Santana watches her, relishing in how she moves and the sudden buzzing of her own skin. Quinn returns to the car and waits for Brittany to finish hugging Artie.

"Take my seat, Britt," she says as she slips into the seat next to Artie, offering the passenger side up for Brittany. Brittany grins and hugs her tightly in thanks. Excitement bubbles in Santana's gut as Puck climbs into the backseat via the trunk and closes the final door. She laughs once as she picks up the walkie talkie resting where her cell phone would usually sit and shakes her head in disbelief.

Pressing the button on the side she clears her throat and speaks into the receiver, "Okay, seat belts on. You bitches ready?"

With a crackle of agreement through the speaker and a smile from Brittany beside her, suddenly things are starting to look up.