I am the worst person on EARTH. I AM SO VERY, VERY SORRY IT HAS TAKEN ME THIS LONG TO PUBLISH THIS CHAPTER. I HAVE BEEN ENTIRELY TOO DISTRACTED BY LIFE AND ALSO MY NEW FANDOMS, AND I AM ONCE AGAIN, VERY VERY SORRY. MANY APOLOGIES. HUNDREDS OF THEM. SORRY.

Warnings: Sexual thoughts and swearing.

Disclaimer: If I owned "Glee", you could be damn sure that the fans would be a million times for pleased with season 4 than they are. I'm just going to ignore that season 4 is actually happening, to be honest. Also a lot of season 3. So yeah, I own nothing.

Okay, so, yeah. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

It dawned on Santana, as she watched Quinn sleep, that maybe this whole friendship thing hadn't been innocent from the start. The blonde was sleeping on Santana's bed, her body covered in every blanket they could locate- Santana liked to keep her bedroom cold. As she stared at Quinn, the ice user absent-mindedly drew pattern in frost on her arm, enjoying the cold as it seeped through her skin. Using ice, though it came naturally to her, took more energy than water, but it felt better. She felt powerful; as though nobody could touch her, destroy her- except Quinn Fabray, the beautiful, innocent fire user... Back then, when they were kids, was it really hate Santana felt when she fought Quinn, or fear? She certainly admired the girl... Which is what led to this friendship in the first place. She admired her, feared her and her powers, and at the same time wanted to know her. Wanted to be close to her and know her secrets purely because she wanted her trust. Because it was something she'd value. Does she have her trust now? After all, sleeping exposes a certain vulnerability, something that Santana, a couple of months ago, would have considered exploiting. Now she just smiled, and a voice in the back of her mind commented helpfully that she'd gone "soft".

She couldn't find it in herself to care.

Quinn rolled her in sleep and mumbled. Santana smiled and, from her position sitting at the end of the bed, reached out to touch her leg through the blankets. The warmth was becoming bearable when she was around Quinn, almost welcomed. A couple of months ago, she would have cringed at the thought of being near her, absorbing the warmth that radiated from the blonde's body. But now... Santana shivered involuntarily. Now she was almost addicted. Smirking, she briefly considered touching Quinn's bare flesh. Her hand hovered over the girl's exposed ankle, uncertain, before lowering it so that it was barely a millimetre away. Santana took a steadying breath, and placed her hand on Quinn.

The blonde startled awake with a gasp, but Santana did not move. It was painful but amazing at the same time. Quinn stared at her in shock, her expression dazed, but did not attempted to break the contact. Both girls' breathing was heavy, and the shudder that passed through Quinn confirmed to Santana that the other girl liked the sensation as much as she did. Letting out the softest groan, Santana lifted her hand.

"Santana..." Quinn buried her face in the other girl's pillow. "Why?"

"Because I wanted to see if it felt as awesome as it did last time."

"Awesome..." Quinn raised her head briefly to send her friend a reproachful glare. "I wouldn't say awesome."

"What would you say?"

"Thrilling, maybe," she said after a moment's consideration. "Or-"

"Arousing?"

Fuck- Santana hadn't meant to say that. She'd meant to say something like weird, or odd. She hadn't planned on bringing up the elephant in the room, but judging by the embarrassed look on Quinn's face, she certainly hadn't been the only one thinking it.

"Don't touch me while I sleep, Santana," was the only reply her little slip got- and she didn't know if she should be grateful or not. "Or at all, unless I ask you to."

"You'll be asking me often?"

"Goodnight, Santana. You should try to sleep, too."

"Yeah, well," the ice manipulator mumbled as Quinn drifted off again. "Whatever."

She didn't end up sleeping that night.

In Biology, one of the few classes she had without Quinn, the fire user thought about her predicament.

Santana always got what she wanted, and always had. It was a simple truth in her life and one she was grateful for. In the end, she got what she wanted, and now, she wanted something new.

Quinn Fabray.

Well, she had wanted the girl for a while, but now she was finally ready to act on it.

Unfortunately, she wasn't particularly sure how.

Quinn wasn't like the many guys and girls she'd seduced in the past. Quinn was sophisticated, Quinn was straight, and Quinn was going to be more than just a casual fuck.

So Santana had definitely gone soft, because dating? Serious, monogamous dating? It wasn't something she was all too familiar with, and would definitely be a challenge. It would ruin the independent image she had made for herself, the carefully built up walls that protected her, because she knew that to date Quinn, she would have to be completely honest with the other girl about everything for it to be serious.

Why the fuck do I even want a serious relationship with Quinn fucking Fabray?

The water inside her froze suddenly, almost angrily, and the room's temperature dropped. The students shivered and looked around, confused, and Santana quickly calmed herself and slowly drew the coldness into herself. Stupid, she scolded herself. You can't just lose control like that.

As the room temperature went back to normal, Santana prayed that this whole thing with Quinn would be resolved soon- either she got what she wanted and managed to get Quinn to date her, or Quinn completely ignored her and they would both be able to forget that this little friendship had happened at all, and everything would go back to the way it was before.

Quinn answered her phone a month and a half after she had befriended Santana and was greeted with the fire user's voice saying blatantly; "We should go on a date."

The blonde's jaw dropped and she blinked, before tentatively replying, "Um, can you please repeat that? I think I misheard."

Santana gave a low chuckle. "Oh, you did not. You and me, Quinny. A date. Then hopefully another date. Then hopefully making out in the back of that nice car of yours. What do you think?"

"I, uh, what, Santana!" Quinn spluttered. "You've got to be joking! We can't date!"

"Why not?"

"Because of... the fire thing! The ice thing!"

"That's no reason," Santana scoffed. She was glad Quinn couldn't see the way her face was betraying her- for the first time ever, Santana Lopez was nervous about asking somebody out and being rejected. "That would just make it better. Come on, you can't tell me you haven't had a few fantasies about some physical contact in some more intimate places?"

Quinn shivered. Santana's voice was just dripping with sex, and she tried to ignore show pleasant it was, and how it would sound whispering in her ear while their hands roamed and-

"Shit, Santana!" Quinn groaned. "That's... No, okay? It can't happen."

"But you want it to happen," the ice user pointed out with a smug voice. "You know you do."

"Shut up," Quinn grumbled, and hung up her phone. She fell backwards on her bed, trying to block out the inappropriate, definitely-not-heterosexual thoughts that were swimming through her mind.