A/N: Hey everyone! It's been a minute. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Originally this story was supposed to have every other chapter come from a different glee member's perspective (that's why ch.2 was in Brittany's POV) however, I didn't like it. So hence the long wait for this. Please, please, please READ, REVIEW, FOLLOW or whatever. It gives me faith!

A/N2: To the person who keeps private messaging me just to harass me, these stories are a complete work of fiction. I have no intention of altering things to your pleasure and I'm sorry if it doesn't fit your desires. You are not required to read and I do hope you find something that sates you. Carry on!

A/N3: The underlined part was supposed to be crossed out but it won't transfer, so that part is supposed to be crossed out not underlined.

I'll Put My Faith In Something Unknown

(I'm Living On Such Sweet Nothing)

A little over a year ago Santana had been in Science class when her teacher had decided to discuss the laws of attraction. Scientifically speaking, her teacher Gretchen (Santana had never bothered to learn her last name, mostly because she didn't care and also because it was more intimidating this way. For Santana, not Gretchen) had said, there are physical aspects and characteristics that certainly draw someone else to you. For example, symmetry in the face is a common characteristic that people tend to be attracted to.

At that point, Santana remembers rolling her eyes because honestly, of course someone would be attracted to symmetry. Nobody wanted to date some lopsided bitch…at least, not on purpose. Santana already knew there were physical aspects that drew other people in, which is why it's called attraction. So she had decided to tune the rest of the lecture out and focus on the rest of her math homework.

About twenty-five minutes in Gretchen said something that Santana would consider intriguing at the time (and of use to her a year later). Love is not something that scientists can force onto someone; there isn't an exact way to make two humans fall in love. However, I have come up with three ways in which love relatively blossoms. Gretchen had said, now let me show them to you and tell me if you guys agree.

At the time Santana had copied down Gretchen's notes because her interest had been piqued (and she had been going through the whole friends-who-have-sex-because-they're-gorgeous-not- because-they're-gay thing with Brittany). Who would have known that over a year later she would take that information and try to use it to her advantage just so she could take down Quinn Fabray (not Brittany, she would never do something so terrible to Brittany).

Take down Quinn Fabray, get underneath her, they were pretty much the same thing in Santana's mind. As long as she destroyed the chastity queen Santana could care less what else happened. And, hey, if she happened to get into Quinn's grandmotherly knickers, well, that would just be an added bonus because Quinn was pretty (on the outside) and Santana could fully get behind that. Both physically and metaphorically.

What, she was a bitch with eyes. Anyone who wasn't wearing blinders could see that Quinn had an ass that wouldn't quit and a face that Santana was just itching to see hooded in pleasure.

Santana froze, her eyebrows rising curiously with her thoughts. She laid down on her bed and sighed. That fact was no longer important because Santana's main focus was bringing her one-time-friend-always-time-enemy down. Nothing was as important as Santana being top dog or forcing Quinn to be at the bottom of that estrogen fueled pyramid.

Santana shivered at the memory of sharp knees and dirty shoes digging into her back. What a shit storm today had been. This is why she had to bring Quinn (the bitch) Fabray down. Sure, Santana had respect for her, but she also kind-of hated her guts. Santana was selfish and she wasn't afraid to admit it. She wanted—no she needed this to happen, and that was that.

I sounds awful to say out loud that this whole thing started simply because of boredom and her appetite for revenge, but Santana's done a lot more for a lot less and she thinks that if things had ended up differently…well, Quinn would be agreeing with her actions.

Quinn might have been a lot of things but nice wasn't one of them. She was a manipulative bitch and she didn't pretend to be otherwise. It was one of the reasons their friendship worked when it did and failed when it didn't. They were just too much alike.

It's also the reason that after only a week and a half of plotting, playing, and trying to get her way, Santana decided to change tactics. She's not a very genuine person and unfortunately for her, neither is Quinn. Quinn's suspicions had immediately spiked after Santana had tried spending more time with her and as a result Quinn was increasingly more wary. Santana couldn't play nice, not for very long, so her original plan was crumbling.

That's what made Santana think back to that day in class. While Gretchen had been obnoxious and her rainbow lab coat had pretty much been screaming lesbo, Gretchen had still made a point that day and Santana couldn't argue with it.

Santana had sat back in class when Gretchen had uploaded her PowerPoint and watched a bullet show up on the first slide.

It only takes about 0.2 seconds to fall in love.

At the time, Santana had considered that notion ridiculous. Love couldn't happen that quickly, it had to happen over time or probably didn't happen at all. It wasn't until months later that Santana learned what that line had really meant.

She had been looking at Brittany after one of their sexy rendezvous in Santana's bedroom and one moment she had just been thinking about how awesome Brittany was and then the next—well, everything had just changed and Santana had felt overwhelmed by the amount of feels that had surrounded her.

Feelings weren't her thing and yet they had quickly encompassed her in a matter of seconds. So, yeah, she gets it now. Actually falling in love is instantaneous. It happens when it happens and you have no control over it.

Santana sighed and flipped open her old Science notebook. That was neither here nor there anymore. Brittany no longer applied to her situation. This was about Quinn and how Santana was going to thoroughly fuck her up.

It was petty but she was Santana Lopez, so such a thing was practically written in her hardwiring.

Santana flipped through the notebook until she found the page. She was lying on her bed after a particularly brutal Cheerios practice. Quinn had sent her through the ringer today even though Santana had done nothing except try to extend an arm of kindness or whatever the hell it was that she projected when she was trying to kiss Quinn's ass. It was a clear sign that Quinn wanted Santana to read, it was a 'whatever it is you're up to, stop'.

Sending Santana to the bottom of a sweaty ass girl pyramid was enough to make her realize that she had been going about this all wrong and that she was going to need to start from the beginning again. She would need new plan that wouldn't raise suspicions with anyone, especially Quinn. Yeah, it did suck that she had wasted a week and a half of her life being nice as she could possibly be. Her insults had suffered greatly from it and now she was consumed by all this extra hatred, but whatever, it was common for first plans to fail. Good scientists could acknowledge when something wasn't working. It made sense that in the beginning stages a scientist might have to scrap their original plan and start from scratch. Santana was moving too quickly and trying to do too much and now she was going to have to change her game.

Santana nearly squealed when her hands found the page she had been searching for. It was a good thing her mother had saved all of her school notebooks because otherwise Santana would have been screwed. Santana looked over the notes from that day and smirked, this was exactly what she needed.

HOW TO MAKE SOMEONE FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU NOTES: (EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE SANTANA LOPEZ AND FLAWLESS, SO THIS DOESN'T REALLY APPLY TO YOU).

1. The Natural Way: Whatever it is, this is the type of love that cannot be planned.

Santana rolled her eyes in response. Natural love was for suckers and people who threw Anti-Valentine's Day parties. There wasn't a moment that went by in Santana's life that wasn't planned and because of that, Santana wasn't a big fan of anything happening naturally.

2. The High Road: Bring out the best in them.

Again Santana rolled her eyes. There was no way she would ever intentionally bring out the best in Quinn Fabray. She would have to be purposely seeking suicide or something. Plus, she was almost convinced that such a thing didn't exist.

3. The Devious and Dastardly Way: Give, withdraw, and repeat.

Santana smirked. Bingo. It's like she was looking at a description of herself, really. Santana was all things devious and she projected all things dastardly, so this option made the most sense. Plus, what was life if you didn't manipulate some people along the way? Manipulation was humanity's greatest skill and Santana enjoyed enacting it on others. It was fun and it got her juices flowing (if you know what she means).

Santana grabbed the notebook (the one that had the article that started it all) and opened it. She crossed out her original (failing) plan.

Act 1: Make sure they always associate you with positive feelings.

Step One: Make Quinn laugh.

Step Two: Compliment her, genuinely.

Step Three: Don't change who you are, but still be genuine. I repeat, act like a genuine bitch.

Santana decided to keep the page in the notebook as a reminder of what hadn't worked so far in this experiment and what she could work on. She shrugged, she could admit defeat on occasion, as long as she fucking made up for it in the long run. She flipped the page to a blank one so that she could write in her new plan.

Act 1: The Devious and Dastardly Way.

Step One: Give.

-FRIENDSHIP-Compliments, Solos, Time, Advice, Laughter, Memories, Make Plans.

Santana snapped her notebook shut as she heard her mama yell that dinner was ready. She slid off her bed and pulled her skirt down so that it didn't ride up, not ready to hear her brothers comments on how short her cheerio skirt was getting.

All in all, Santana decided that she really didn't need to make Quinn fall in love with her over the course of time because let's face it; Santana wasn't the easiest girl to love. And as a result, she shouldn't need to change who she was because then it wouldn't feel real for Quinn. No, what Santana needed to do was be herself and sit back and wait for the perfect opportunity to hit her.

Santana just needed to wait until the perfect two seconds. She just needed a moment where Quinn would make an error in judgment. It couldn't be that hard because Quinn was the type of girl who constantly made mistakes, which means she was trying to find something, and Santana could certainly be the girl to cash in on a person like that.

The next seven months would be used to take the qualities that Santana already had (the good ones, the ones Quinn couldn't resist because Santana was so effortlessly flawless and amazing) and use them to her advantage. She was going to have to be herself (because seriously, she was gorgeous, talented, had fantastic boobs, possessed legs for days, could sing and dance, carried a nearly perfect GPA, and did she mention she was gorgeous?) but a more acceptable and relatable and friendlier version.

Santana grimaced as she exited her bedroom, already exhausted at the idea of having to hold back any of her usual snipes from Quinn. She had one week left until Winter Break and she would need to milk it for all she could get.

If this didn't get Santana into Quinn's abysmally depressing hands off nether regions—heart, Santana meant Quinn's heart- then Santana didn't know what would.

Step One: Give.

Friendship

Santana decided the next day to start off with the biggest and hardest step: friendship. She wasn't exactly thrilled to be starting off with such a thing because spending more time than necessary in Quinn's vicinity was like putting your head through a toaster oven. However, it was necessary for the long run.

Quinn wasn't an idiot. She wasn't Finn Hudson or Puck or any other stupid boy that could be swayed with a swish of Santana's hips and a bat of her eyelashes. Quinn was prim and proper and everything else pedestal like (at its finest). She was practically a prude Barbie doll from the fifties. She wouldn't fall for something so unlikely coming from Santana. Quinn was a damaged piece of something, Santana knew, and it made her all kinds of epically suspicious.

Sure, it kinda also made Quinn crazy, but crazy Quinn was a hot Quinn so Santana couldn't really complain.

Anyway, coming right out and attempting to be Quinn's friend would end just as badly as this past week and Santana wasn't ready for another bout of rejection. It only egged Santana's inner anger on and she'd lose her chances completely if she ended up slapping Quinn this early.

No matter how great it would feel for her hand to smack Quinn's cheek (god, she could feel the tips of her fingers tingling at the idea, how fascinating).

No. She had a plan to adhere to. The end result was far going to outweigh any damage she could do right now. She just had to keep reminding herself of that. Santana licked her lips and frowned in hesitation. She was in the library during free period and she was attempting to come up with some sort of…well, anything that could give her an opening.

Sure, she had that whole tutoring thing with Quinn set up for Thursday, but that was on Quinn's terms. It was strictly business and Santana needed a way to get her foot in the door. She needed an opportunity, a perfect moment.

"I think Lord Tubbington has restarted his unhealthy obsession with Zumba videos again," Brittany said as she slid in the chair opposite of Santana. Her face was pale and her blue eyes were dimmed. Even though Santana was constantly wary about Lord Tubbington and Brittany's determination to speak about him as though he was a real person, Brittany obviously loved him and Santana obviously loved Brittany.

So she would do her best. Just like always.

Santana frowned in concern. Lord Tubbington could stand to lose some weight, but it was always excessive when he watched those videos. "How much did he lose this time?"

"Two pounds," Brittany said with concern. "He's practically wasting away."

"Britt, I'm sure he'll drop the habit soon. You know he doesn't like too much of one thing," Santana soothed, trying her best to change Brittany's mood. "Remember that time he stalked Rachel?"

Brittany smile softly at the memory. "Yeah, he said she sang too much."

"Exactly," Santana replied. She ran her hand through her ponytail out of reflex. "He'll give this up too once he remembers how much he loves eating…well, everything."

Color started returning to Brittany's face and Santana smiled at her success. While she wasn't in a relationship with Brittany anymore, she did find that making Brittany happy was still a priority. Yeah, it sucked that Brittany didn't want any part of her beautiful self anymore, or that she was denying Santana that delicious booty, but Santana understood. Or at least she pretended to.

They were friends who had been mostly lovers, but that didn't stop her affection. Sure, she wanted Brittany. But that wasn't an option right now so Santana was going to have to take what she could get. Plus, her focus was on taking a bitch down not getting down…and low…and—anyway.

"Are you still being weird with Quinn?" Brittany asked bluntly, her fingers were drumming against the table on reflex.

Santana frowned, not pleased by Brittany's words. "I'm not being weird, B, I'm trying to be her friend. You know, like how you and I are friends. Except Quinn's fucking anal and shit and can't handle me being nice or sincere. Or my version of what those two things are."

"Have you tried giving her sweet lady kisses?" Brittany inquired.

"That won't work." Santana dismissed. It was nice that Brittany was trying to help but, really, those ideas would only result in Santana getting slapped again and even though she was a fan of violence, she wasn't happy when it was directed at her. "Also, friends don't give each other sweet lady kisses, Britt."

"We do."

"We used to," Santana corrected. "And you know we were never just friends."

Brittany frowned and Santana leaned back in her chair as a result. This wasn't the conversation she wanted to be having. She loved Brittany, proudly so, but this was about Quinn and Santana giving as good as she'd gotten. Brittany didn't need to be involved in this. "Britt-Britt, while I love the advice, it's not really necessary because one: Quinn is manipulative as shit, which we both know. Two: Attempting to be friends with Quinn is like being dunked in a pool full of ice, I don't need to raise the shock factor, okay?"

"Have you told her about how you gave Jew Fro your Cheerios skirt to stop him from telling everyone that Puck was Beth's dad?"

Santana turned her head to the side, her natural instincts to leap over the table and cover Brittany's mouth overwhelming her. "That's a secret, B, and I don't have plans on that ever getting out. Nobody needs to know for that a split second I might have had a heart."

Brittany shrugged just to shrug; sometimes it just seemed fitting for the situation. "Quinn really likes people who are like dogs. You know, like, people who are loyal and sweet and who follow her around. That's all."

Santana rolled her eyes unintentionally. Not because Brittany was wrong, but because Brittany was right.

"You might just have a point."

Santana's perfect moment came two days later.

She had been plotting and faking and pushing her way around to find a scrap of something, only for it to fall into her beautiful, extremely capable hands a couple days later.

Getting Quinn to see that Santana was genuinely interested in sparking a friendship was like trying to convince Man Hands that her grandma-underage-how to catch a predator style was never going to be in. So basically, it was useless.

Quinn was a very private(crazy) girl. She had her moments but for some reason she just expected everyone to respect her privacy. As if such a thing was possible in high school. Santana didn't completely get where she was coming from because to Santana, as long as people were talking about you, it was a good thing. She made the effort to get it though, just for the sake of this whole thing she was planning.

Anyway, there was a rumor hitting the masses that Quinn had recently hooked up with Puckerman at a party and while Santana clearly supported anything that'd make Quinn a little less evil and less high strung, she knew that if the rumor hit Sue Sylvester Quinn could kiss her Head Cheerio spot goodbye.

Santana has it on good authority that when Quinn rejoined the Cheerios she was forced to sign a contract that stated she'd never do the dirty with someone so dirty again. And, yes, Quinn losing her captaincy was essentially the goal that Santana was striving for, but this wasn't the way that she wanted this shit to go down.

She didn't want Quinn to be destroyed; she wanted Quinn to be absolutely devastated.

That mentality was sort-of just ingrained into her soul. Who was she to deny such a fabulous thing?

So, Santana waited it out until she spotted Jew Fro making his way over towards Quinn right before lunch. While he was basically vermin, he did control the gossip of the faceless masses, so he was necessary in getting Quinn's attention.

She's three lockers down when she hears Jew Fro utter the words that could basically destroy Quinn right now.

"So it's come to my fruitful attention that the wholesome Quinn Fabray has relapsed and indulged herself in some sweet, sweet loving with Noah Puckerman. What do you have to say on the matter?"

It's clear from the way that Quinn's eyes frantically divert across the hall that she's feeling like a scared little kitten right now. Santana hides her smug smile because all she could feel right now was this little thing called success. It's almost too good.

Quinn, for all her obvious fears, barely falters after that and grabs the collar of Jew Fro's shirt. "Where did you hear that?" Quinn seethes, her eyes burning into Jew Fro's.

It's enough to almost be an answer, Santana can tell. Jew Fro has spent four years with this Ice Queen, he knows Quinn's not physically capable of violence towards him and there isn't much more she could do to destroy his social status. He was already the lowest in the social totem pole.

That's where Santana came in. After all, Bitchy is what Bitchy does.

Santana steeled her shoulders and put on her best 'don't-fuck-with-me' face (which was really just her go-to expression) and made sure to ram into Jew Fro as she situated herself in-between him and Quinn.

"Hey Princess Powerpuff," Santana greeted making sure to completely ignore Jew Fro's presence. "Thanks for covering for me this weekend with Brittany. There's only so much I can feed the ducks before I physically want to strangle them with my bare hands."

Quinn's eyes widen but she seems to take the hint. She had always been a quick learner. "It was no problem. You know I'd do anything for Brittany."

Santana nods as if it's obvious. It was time to go for the gold. "It wasn't my intention to ditch her for Puckerman but we all know he was dying to get an experience with a Once Upon a time Head Cheerio that wouldn't end in a pregnancy. Poor guy had PTSD all these years and as the hottest shit to ever hit the fan since extra-large Capri Suns, I decided to be generous and give him the opportunity."

"Right," Quinn agreed.

Santana leaned in and lowered her voice. "He won't be able to properly move for days."

Santana heard a throat clear behind her and she grinned. She sent a wink Quinn's way before turning around with a scowl. "What the fuck are you doing here?

"I've been here the whole time.

Santana squinted. "I'm sorry, my vision doesn't recognize losers. They tend to blend in with their surroundings."

"Is it true?" Jew Fro asked earnestly, his microphone getting disgustingly close to Santana's face.

"Is what true? That I fucked Noah Puckerman? One: while that is nobody's business, I do believe that his world was rocked. Two: what I share with dear Quinnie the Pooh here is private and not meant to make its rounds. I have a reputation to uphold and if I hear that you've leaked this little gold nugget of information about me," Santana leaned in and grinned manically, "I will not hesitate to ends you."

Jew Fro cowered on reflex and Santana checked it as a win. God, it was truly great to be Santana Lopez. Santana flicked her hands at Jew Fro. "Scamper on, Annie."

Jew Fro scrambled backwards before turning around and jetting down the hall. Santana blew on her nails and wiped them against her Cheerio skirt. She was seriously so good at this shit that she basically amazed herself.

"Why did you do that?" Quinn asks, her voice confused as it carried across the small space in between them.

Santana spun back around and did her best to look kind. It was hard, but she tried. "As much as I hate looking at your angelic face every day, I'm not sixteen anymore and it'd be pointless to end you when I already know that I'm better."

"And you're so humble too," Quinn quipped. She laid her hands flat on the bottom of her skirt and waited, god, Quinn was always a waiting type of person.

"Exactly."

"You didn't have to do that though," Quinn interjects even though it's clear Santana wasn't going to continue.

Santana picked that moment to make eye contact and was almost thrown off by how bright they were in this moment. It hit her then that this was definitely it; this was the moment she had been waiting for. This was Santana's chance to kick things off and she was going to have to be genuine because Quinn could smell insincerity like a fucking bloodhound.

"We both know that I did," Santana starts as she tries to figure out the right words to say next. In an attempt to make herself seem less hostile and conniving, Santana placed her hands behind her back and sent Quinn a soft (awkward) smile. "You kept my relationship with Brittany a secret for years," Santana admitted. "And even though I think you're a hypocritical bitch, I also think it's only fair that we end high school just like we started it."

"On top?"

"Duh, Idiot," Santana snipes before softening her eyes. "And I also meant together."

It's in this moment that Santana remembers how Quinn has always had such an incredibly good poker face. Quinn and Santana were cut from the same wood, it seemed, they were both too much the same with too many differences for Santana to ever truly get or hate Quinn. It's taken years to get this far, Santana thinks, and even now she wasn't anywhere close to that bitch's heart.

It was aggravating, but hey, Santana's pretty sure she enjoyed the challenge.

After a beat Quinn smiles and Santana almost deflates from relief. She doesn't though, because they're both still playing their parts and the key to keeping up the charade was to never break character.

Quinn laughs awkwardly, and it is awkward. "So, what happens now?" Quinn says with mild curiosity. "Are we supposed to hug now?"

"One: eew. Two: if you want to touch me you just have to ask, Quinnie."

Quinn rolled her eyes and Santana could almost see all the locks clicking into place. "In your impossible dreams, Lopez. I repeat, what happens now?"

Santana stuck her hand out in front of her and smiled when the gesture made Quinn jump.

"How about a truce?"

Quinn licked her lips in thought before promptly grabbing Santana's hand and shaking it.

"Okay. Truce."

Santana grinned. She had her in and boy was Quinn Fabray going down. This shit was going to be epic.

Hopefully it would be devastatingly so. For Quinn, not for her.