Four-Way Stop

Chapter One

Better Off Lactose Intolerant

Part I- First Meetings

Summary: Dreamers should go with dreamers, and the realists with the realist's right? But what happens when Quinn and Santana, long time girlfriends meet Rachel and Brittany another couple. How will the four girls deal meeting each other at a four-way stop.

"There are dreamers and there are realists in this world, you think the dreamers would find the dreamers and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not the opposite is true. See the dreamers need the realists to keep the dreamers from soaring too close to the sun. And the realists? Well without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground"

Dark curls fell down toward her shoulders, she always clutched a different piece of paper ever ride. Quinn held onto the cold metal bar on the subway, finding the same woman sitting in the same seat every Tuesday and Thursday. Every afternoon after her classes on the fourth stop she would run into the train out of breath.

And Quinn would stand.

She would watch the woman every Tuesday and Thursday without acknowledging it, her eyes would fall onto her like a magnet, her grip tightening every fourth stop anticipating her arrival.

Her eyes held more than could be described, but also possessed an empty cavern, an unlit wick. Quinn couldn't control her wondering stare to catch those darken eyes, wishing somehow one day she would see them lit.

/

An annoying beeping noise filtered into the room, Quinn's eyes blinking awake. Light was lazily creeping in the bedroom, the smell of stale sleep floating in the air. The blonde stiffened a groan, a weight pressed up behind her, warmth radiating from it, wrapping Quinn in a comforting blanket.

"Ugh shut that thing the fuck up," the familiar husky voice croaked. Detaching herself from Quinn and rolling to the other side of the bed, trying to escape the alarm.

The blonde, ripped the covers from her body, the cold air sticking to her soft skin. Stepping down onto the ground she was met with the familiar grey carpet. She ran a hand through her short mane of hair, looking back at the snoozing brunette. A small grin cracked at the side of her mouth as Santana let out soft snore, shaking her head she walked into the bathroom.

She showered, brushed her teeth, combed out her wet hair, put on make-up and finally flossed by the time she came back out greeted by the same scene. This time though, the sheets were tossed halfway down Santana's body, reliving her tanned naked back.

"Babe," Quinn muttered, coming up to the side of her and shaking her gently "Wake up."

The brunette groaned rolling onto her back, her eyes slits at the intruding light. She didn't even quirk a grin at the sight of her beautiful girlfriend, her annoyance bubbling "I don't want to go."

"You have to,"

"I came to New York to compose songs, not to wait tables."

"Well those tables will pay for you to be able to compose songs," Quinn chuckled, tucking a strand of messy hair away from her deep brown eyes "Come on you'll be late."

Finally Quinn helped her up, allowing her to let out a line of ungrateful swear words dragging her feet to the bathroom. Quinn ambled out of their bedroom into their small apartment, reaching for the coffee maker in their kitchen, pulling out two cereal boxes and bowls along with. She heard the shower running as she poured herself a cup of hot caffeine into her favorite snoopy mug. She also reached for the "Kiss" mug setting it down across from her on the table.

She paced over to the mail slot on their door, grabbing the daily newspaper bringing it back to the table; grabbing a pair of black glasses on the way. She placed the glasses by the mug, unfolding the paper reading over an article. She poured her cereal and milk, taking a large spoonful of 'Life'.

Right on time she heard Santana stumbling into the room, seizing her mug filling it and falling into her seat. Quinn riffled through the paper separating the arts and sports, offering them to Santana as she dumped 'Lucky Charms' into her egg shell white bowl. She mumbled an acceptance taking the thin piece of paper and laying them out on her side. She clutched her glasses pushing them up her nose, skimming over the head line; she uncapped the milk pouring it into her bowl, only to stop abruptly.

"There is no more milk."

Quinn looked up, her spoon stuck in her mouth like a high dive into her wet breakfast. Santana sat with the empty container positioned over her bone dry cereal, her glasses pushed to one side. Quinn grabbed her spoon, pulling it out with soft smack of her lips, "oh."

Santana groaned, standing up with the bowl of cereal in hand. "I told you yesterday to pick up some."

"I forgot,"

"Obviously," she growled, dumping her cereal into the sink with resentment.

"If you are going to be like that just take mine," Quinn spat, pushing her bowl over.

"I don't want your food," Santana snapped. "-I have to go, I am going to be late as it is," She poured the remainder of her coffee into a travel mug, sealing the lid tightly. Santana left her paper scattered on the table reaching for her coat. "Pick some up after school yeah?"

"Okay."

Santana nodded, beginning to walk for the door snatching her keys as she passed. Quinn sat in dull silence, as the door clicked behind the Latina; whispers of anger bounding in her chest. Just as Quinn got up from her seat, walking to the sink and dumping both her coffee and cereal down the drain.

/

School was hectic as ever, Quinn attempting to take down as many important ideas as her professor said, trying to hang on to ever word. But half way through the class she felt her attention slowly slipping, her eyes traveling towards a blonde in the front of the class.

After her class she was off back onto the subway line, two earphones plugged in, shutting off the noisy crazies around her. The old recycled air felt heavy, the orders of different people wafting off in an undesirable outcome of stench. Quinn chewed on her mint gum just as a new song on her ipod started playing. Her eyes flickered up at a sudden movement.

A brunette with five bags was shuffling into the cart, trying to get to an empty seat before the cart started or someone else took it. Quinn recognized the woman right away, whenever Quinn got into a scheduled routine such as transporting back home after her class she was bound to stumble along a few familiar faces from time to time; even if she didn't know any of those familiar faces. In her mind this brunette had always suck out for Quinn. From across the aisle she watched as a young man sat down, shuffling through his phone. Quinn turned her music down slightly so she could barely hear the conversations around her.

"Excuse me," The girl started. "Could I maybe take that seat, you see I have been on my feet all day and have had to carry all these-"

"Fuck off," the boy muttered, turning his body away from the woman.

The brunette gasped raising a finger. "Now you listen, I-" she was cut off though as the cart kicked into gear, sending a jolt throughout the space. The woman did not prepare herself and as a consequence was left stumbling, letting out a terrified screech falling over her tote bags and onto the dirty subway floor. Quinn grimaced, the brunette letting out a loud 'humph' as she hit the ground.

There were a few sniffled chuckles; people covered their mouths as the woman pulled herself back up. She glanced around with her head held high. Quinn's eyes widened the clumsy woman having to readjust her hiked up skirt. Quinn caught sight of her face, even though she had fallen a sense of pride was still stitched on her face. After only few moments though there was a different raw emotion escaping in the corner of her eyes and lips. Something that the woman was desperately trying to push back, trying to hide for the subway people.

Puckering her lips, Quinn grabbed her bag, standing up from her seat and walking silently over to the girl, taping her on the shoulder. At the contact the brunette whipped around her eyes wide with shock. Quinn opened her mouth, her eyes locked onto the deep brown eyes in front of her. It seemed like the sound around her was drowned out, her hair on her neck suddenly standing up. "-Uh," Quinn mumbled, pointing back to her seat, "You can take mine."

The girl looked around Quinn, spotting the empty seat. Her face lifted, her eyes suddenly sprung with something resembling happiness. "Oh thank you so much," she breathed, picking up her bags.

"It's no problem," Quinn shrugged taking hold of the bar up ahead, the woman skidding around her to her previous seat. Quinn slightly turned her head, watching the brunette sit down with a sigh.

Quinn bit her lip, opening her phone to a new text. From Santana: Don't forget the milk.

Quinn rolled her eyes stuffing it back into her pocket. She chanced another glance at the woman, watching as she tapped at her phone. The blonde shook her head, trying to put her mind back onto focus.

/

You know how people go through those phases? Phases which they want to be something else then their usual boring self? Every person has it even if they don't realize it. Sometimes they last minutes, hours, days, years, and on the off chance you actually change. Quinn had a few of these phases in her life, whenever she read a poem she suddenly felt the need to become a poet, and would try for a few unsuccessful days before giving up. Or once when she decided she wanted to become a marathon runner and started to build up her stamina. That lasted a whole two weeks, before she gave up and ate a whole bag of pretzels in one sitting.

Some people in her family would argue her current situation was just that a phase. Living with a girl, sleeping with her, it was merely a phase in which Quinn had to work through, just like she did with each other phase. She obviously knew it was nothing like a phase, if it was she would have been done with Santana a long time ago. So clearly it wasn't.

But sometimes when Quinn walked around this concrete city she wondered if this part of her life was somehow supposed to be different, if she settled for a phase other than where she should actually be.

Quinn had come to grasps with the fact that everything in life was a game of chance and luck. If you take a moment to think about it, it will really baffle the mind. To think if you would have stayed home one night you wouldn't have spotted you next boyfriend or girlfriend, or that if you been in a different mood you wouldn't have meet your best friend. Everything in person's life is only timing, but what happens when you miss timing? What would happen if you were supposed to be somewhere but you decided to stay home and watch re-runs of Seinfeld?

It wasn't that Quinn didn't love or that she wasn't content with Santana, she did and was. She was happier with the Latina then she has ever been. Santana picked Quinn up after one of her darkest moments in high school. But Quinn could never get rid of the idea of something else was out there, something that her heart and soul were pushing for. When these thoughts got into her mind an instant guilt over took her. Maybe she couldn't blame herself for such ideas; after all she did read a lot of fantasy books.

Quinn zoomed back to the red cover of the latest instalment of one of her favorite authors. She stood in the small bookstore, she often lurked days after school. Santana didn't get off work till later and she never liked being home alone, it was so dark, so silent. Here on the other hand had action, people, smells, light, and sounds. Quinn felt an ever presences of comfortable calmness in the store, and gravitated to it ever since.

"Quinn," The clerk greeted her, walking out from the back room into the store.

"Hi Kevin,"

The blonde, strolled back over to the counter, readjusting the strap on her shoulder, dropping the book on the counter.

"Good choice," Kevin examined, grinning brightly scanning the books code.

"You've read it?" Quinn asked, unzipping her bag to retrieve her wallet.

"Oh yes," he nodded, getting a bag for Quinn, "it's about multiple love stories centered around one couple."

"I read the back, but didn't quite understand…" She admitted handing over a twenty.

"It plays with concept of soul mates, about how these two people always meet in a different way, take a different journey but always seem to end up together. In whatever alternate universe they may be in."

"Like destiny,"

"Proofing destiny,"

She bit her tongue lightly, getting her change back and the book in return.

"sounds good,"

"I hope you enjoy it, I always find her work enlightening."

Quinn checked the time, grimacing a little "you wouldn't know of the closest grocery store would you?"

/

She entered the store, bypassing the carts and baskets, knowing that she would only have to get milk and leave. Walking over to the far side of the store she entered the dairy section. "I want to hold your hand" by the Beatles was softly playing in the rather peaceful grocery store. Quinn parted her lips, reaching the different fridges of milk.

Why were there so many different kinds? What did Santana usually like in her cereal, 1 or 2 %? Quinn felt ridiculous contemplating something as mundane as her milk future; which could also factor into if she was getting any, but that was beside the point. Sighing she sang under her breath the chorus of the song, opening the door and grabbing the 1%.

She was about to turn around when she heard a person joining in with her singing. She stopped looking up, to her great surprise she found the same woman from the subway standing to the side, grabbing a container of vanilla skim milk. The girl seemed to look like she was caught in the act, her eyes widening a little in shock. "Oh!" she still had the bags that she had on the subway but they now were all placed in a trolley.

Quinn coughed, looking around from some camera. This had to be a reality show like the one Santana always watched, what was it called, "What would you do?" who ran into a stranger twice in one day? that never happened. And if it did you always ran into the asshole that stole your seat on the train, or spilt some of their coffee on your new coat.

"You're…" the brunette trailed off, her finger pointing at the blonde. She straggled off, trying to decide if she was completely sure this was the same person who had offered her seat, trying to avoid an awkward situation.

"I met you on the subway," Quinn offered.

"Yeah you lent me your seat, after the awful boy took mine,"

Quinn nodded, "Right."

"Thank you again," she smiled, "Where are my manners, I'm Rachel." She stuck her hand out.

Quinn thought handshakes only happened at old family dinners and job meetings, but she shook her hand without protest, smiling politely, "Quinn."

"Do you live around here?" Rachel asked, "I thought I would have recognized you…"

"No, I was just stopping by the book store down the block, and had to pick up this milk quickly," Quinn shook the milk in the air, gesturing to it nervously.

"Oh."

"That is I am a little worried, I can't remember if my girlfriend likes 1 or 2 %" She frowned down at the opposing object that seemed to hold so much power.

After moving to New York both Quinn and Santana learned that in a city like this they didn't have to hide anymore. Sure there was the odd asshole, but on the whole, people never seemed to care.

"Hm, well I don't know if I would be much help, I don't drink milk." She shrugged, holding her skim milk, "Even as much as my girlfriend protest about it," Quinn's ears perked a little at the mention of the woman also in a relationship with a girl.

"It's healthier," Quinn shrugged, "I'm not actually too opposed to it."

Rachel beamed flashing the carton back up, "Why don't you try it," She asked playfully wiggling it back and forth almost like a dance.

"I don't know the Miss's might not be too happy."

"Has she ever tried it?"

"Santana? trying skim milk, that's a laugh." Quinn chuckled.

"Then how is she supposed to know she doesn't like it if she never tried it," Rachel grinned.

"With an argument like that it is hard to object."

"This could be your new thing for today,"

"What do you mean?" Quinn inquired

"You know how they say you are supposed to do something new every day? Well getting skim milk could be yours today."

"That seems pretty lame," Quinn snickered "Why can't my new thing be saving a kid or something?"

"Have you saved a kid today?"

"Well no,"

"-Anyways skim milk isn't lame; it's nutritional and better for the environment."

Quinn puckered her lip, arching a brow looking back at the containers of milk, reaching in and replacing it. She then picked the skim milk, looking down at it.

"That's it my day is made, I have converted another," Rachel beamed.

"You make it sound like a cult," Quinn snickered,

"Oh it is," Rachel said seriously, "Once you get a taste of this you won't be able to go back to anything else."

Quinn laughed, "We'll see about that."

"Not to be rude, but I really need to go, have to go pick my girl up." Rachel motioned behind her shoulder, "But thank you again for the subway,"

"It was no problem, thank you for the milk choice."

"I hope you approve." She smiled her eyes brightening up, "Bye,"

"Bye,"

Quinn's eyes lingered on Rachel until she turned the corner disappearing from eyesight. When did that ever happen, meeting someone twice in the same day in a city of eight million?

What are the chances?

/

"Quinn?" A voice called from the living room.

"Yep." She entered with a rustle dropping her bag and bringing the skim milk into the kitchen placing it into the fridge. After finishing up she walked into the living room where Santana's voice had first appeared.

She smiled, Santana was lying on the sofa already in sweats, "I guess going out is out the question," she laughed, unwrapping the scarf around her neck.

Santana pouted, pausing the movie she was watching, looking up at her girlfriend, "I had a long day."

Quinn dropped to Santana's side, pushing her fingers through the darker girl's hair, "why what happened?"

"It was the hulk again,"

"Finn?" Quinn asked, recalling the numerous stories that Santana had brought home about a supposedly giant boy who couldn't shut his mouth from sprouting all his idiotic thoughts that filtered through his mind on a daily basis.

"Yeah," Santana nodded, tucking her head into Quinn's lap.

"He is gone now," Quinn smiled.

"Yes he is," Santana breathed, craning her neck to place a delicate kiss on the blondes lips, "how was your day?"

"Good… interesting,"

"Mmm," Santana smiled, cupping Quinn neck bringing her back down to her lips. Eventually causing Quinn's breath to come out a little more forced, "I'm glad you're home,"

"Me too," Quinn leant back down, capturing Santana's lips in a long kiss, climbing onto the sofa. She pulled away letting Santana's head fall onto the cushion before straddling her hips. She lent down catching the ruby lips with more passion and hunger. Santana pushed away the dangling imposing blonde hair. Letting out a content hum as Quinn pulled at her bottom lip letting her tongue drag on it before letting it go with a pop.

Quinn took a deep breathe in; taking in the familiar smell she had come accustomed to ever since freshmen year. Before the earthy smell represented friendship, and comfort how it changed through the years… turning into envy, lust, passion, and then returning to comfort and partnership.

Quinn lent back, examining Santana's growing flushed skin. She quirked her lips, watching Santana's lidded eyes take her looming girlfriend in. Quinn shifted, returning to the plump lips when she felt a finger stop her. Quinn growled opening her eyes, finding Santana smirking, "Before I forget, did you get the milk?"

Quinn sighed, returning to her sitting position over Santana. She puckered her lips, looking over the tanned girl, "Yeah…" Santana's face brightened her hand rubbing up Quinn's arm to the back of her neck, pulling her back. "…I got some vanilla skim milk," Quinn finished inches away from her lips.

Santana's breath stalled, pushing Quinn back up yet again. Quinn let out a frustrated sigh, "now what?" she asked irritated. Santana's mood shifted a bit at Quinn's tone, her eyes narrowing.

"Skim milk?" she asked calmly, though something about Santana speaking calmly always freaked Quinn out a bit, especially when she knew she wasn't happy.

"Yeah,"

"I hate skim milk."

"Have you even tried it?" Quinn frowned,

"No,"

"-then how do you know you don't like it?"

"Have you ever had lambs eye?"

"No," Quinn groaned.

"Maybe you should try it," Santana snapped, pushing Quinn off of her lap, and sitting up.

"That's not the same," Quinn slid to Santana's side, watching as the Latina got up, pushing her hand through her hair, letting out a deep sigh.

"Why would you get skim milk?"

"This woman was talking about it,"

"How old was she?" Santana asked out of the blue.

"What?" Quinn shook her head, "I don't know around the same age as us, why does it matter?"

"Was she attractive?"

"I guess,"

"Real typical," Santana rolled her eyes, "A pretty girl bats her eyes and you do whatever she says!"

"That's ridiculous and you know it!" Quinn sprung from the sofa, standing over Santana.

"Was it ridiculous when we were in Las Vegas and you spent sixty dollars on that scam the lady was selling?"

"Here we go again with the scam," Quinn thundered, throwing her hands in the air.

"I just don't understand you sometimes Quinn, I asked one little favour which you should have done before, and you go on and get distracted by some good looking girl. Am I not satisfying you or something?"

"What!" Quinn snapped, "What are you talking about, this is about milk not whatever you are saying," Quinn gestured with her hands, "Why are you acting so weird lately… you're different."

There was a slow and eerie silence between the girls, each trying to measure the other. Trying to think about what the other may say, or do, but nothing happened and somehow that was worse than any words. Santana pursed her lips glaring at the taller girl.

"Just get the fucking milk Quinn," Santana grunted, pushing past the girl towards their bedroom.

Quinn waited until the brunette shut the door before kicking the sofa roughly, hurting her big toe. She cursed, stumbling back to the door, pulling on her jacket and wrenching her keys from the table. After she got out into the hallway of the apartment she yanked at her jacket, zipping it up.

How could something as innocent and simple as milk get Quinn into the dog house? That's what was happening lately with Quinn and Santana well not lately they had always fought. But at least in high school it was real fights with hurtful words cussing and swearing, and once even hair pulling. And what was better than the actual fight was the mind blowing incredible make-up sex after. Honestly people on movies and TV shows weren't lying about that, it is unbelievably. You still have so much passion about the fight and it transfers right over to sex effortlessly.

Even if Quinn came back with a whole bag of different percent, flavours of milk and apologise all she would get was a small peck before lying down to sleep. Not to say Quinn and Santana never had sex anymore; they did, but lately it was lacking. Maybe Santana wasn't so far off to think she wasn't satisfying her, or some other word that didn't sound so ridiculous. It probably wasn't even Santana's fault. Quinn has known for weeks that there was something that wasn't wired correctly. Who knew all it took was a pointless fight about milk to bring so much out of Quinn and Santana. But as it is Quinn would be sleeping on the sofa, with only a cold bottle of milk to warm her.

"Fucking milk."

A.N: Please let me know what you think,

this story will be evenly be split up between Brittana and Faberry.