The length of time it has taken me to update this is far longer than I would have liked. Life has been hectic and inspiration didn't hit me for a while but finally I managed to write the ending that I'd had planned from the start. I hope you can forgive me for the wait.

Regardless, before I head to bed, here's the epilogue and therefore the final chapter of this little story that became more than I ever initially intended. If you're still reading this, despite how long it has been, then thank you and I hope you enjoy it :)

More Than You Bargained For

Epilogue
An End Has a Start

She lifted a hand and subconsciously ruffled it through her blonde hair, now much shorter due to the rather brutal hairdresser she had seen just a few weeks ago in Hong Kong. Sighing, she caught a glimpse of herself in a shop window. The flight had felt excruciatingly long, even though in reality it hadn't been more than a couple of hours, and Quinn couldn't help but think she looked a complete mess. Her hazel eyes were marred by red due to several weeks of far less sleep than she would have ordinarily liked, and far too many flights in far too little time.

However, it certainly wasn't all bad.

She had never imagined that her first book tour would be so exhausting, but it had so far been an incredible experience. Whilst she had definitely enjoyed it, part of Quinn couldn't help but be thankful that London was their last stop. Exhaustion was beginning to kick in and she had started to lose track of how many different cities she had visited. After tomorrow, it would be time for a well-deserved break although Quinn had no idea what she was going to do.

It had been so long since she'd had any time to herself, that unwinding seemed to be an alien concept. The fact that her break had been designed to perfectly coincide with Christmas only made it worse in her mind.

Going back home to see her family wasn't exactly a thought that filled her with joy. After her father had died, the dynamic of their family had become even more strained (as if that were possible). Her friends were smattered across the globe due to her travelling, so that wasn't exactly easy either, and it certainly didn't seem acceptable to crash at one of their places for Christmas. She shook her head, watching her breath fill the frosty air in front of her as she sighed. She'd think of something. She always did.

It was then that she saw it.

Since their plane had touched down just a few short hours ago, a twisting sensation had begun to build inside her. At first it had been small, almost insignificant, and certainly easy enough to ignore. After all, Quinn had been entirely prepared to feel this way. Memories were inevitable and she had learned long ago that trying to block them out was almost always pointless. She was bound to feel something.

However, that twisting feeling dramatically intensified as her gaze locked onto an uncomfortably familiar sign: 'Oxford Circus Station'. The white letters gleamed in the soft glow of the sun, unchanged from the last time she had seen them except for a thin layer of snow on top of the sign. Quinn struggled to tear her eyes away. Her mind whizzed through memories at a hurtling pace, almost making her feel sick, the strength of them altogether unexpected.

Since landing, and dropping their stuff at the hotel, Quinn had insisted that she wanted to have some alone time wandering around London. Now she was exceptionally glad that she had. The emotions currently ricocheting through her were surely, she figured, ridiculous.

If anyone else had been with her what was she supposed to say?

That being back in London was apparently more overwhelming than she had expected? That she was feeling this way because the last time she had been here she had walked away from the woman she loved?

That was just over 7 years ago now, and Quinn had a feeling that her current reactions were borderline absurd.

You see, as much as Quinn had tried to forget everything, her mind still recalled all too well what had happened the last time she was in London all those years ago. The last time she had ever been in the UK. The last time she had seen Santana.

Suddenly it all felt as fresh, as vivid, as intense it had that Sunday when Quinn had walked away, each footstep agonisingly painful, to this very tube stop, tears streaming down her face.

7 years.
85 months.
2,586 days.

Quinn had, of course, dated other people since. Some of them had failed to leave any sort of good impression, the odd few had lasted past the first couple of months and one had even made it to an anniversary, but none had managed to make Quinn feel as strongly, as alive, as Santana had.

That wasn't to say the blonde had spent the entirety of the past 7 years moping around, after all that would be considered rather ridiculous. To be honest, she had done the precise opposite. For the most part, her history had been pushed to the side-lines. Quinn's perspective was that re-analysing the events would do her no good. Nothing would change. So, instead, she had poured everything she had into herself and her dreams, not only for a distraction but something she had wanted to do for a long time. She was on her way to achieving everything she had ever wanted, and in some respects had never been happier.

But seeing that sign and walking those same streets once more, it had dredged all those emotions back up from the depths of her.

Quinn shook her head, she was being stupid and she knew it.

It was probably completely normal to feel this way. This was the first time she had returned to London and so surely residual thoughts and feelings were bound to reappear.

Either way, thoughts of Santana weren't going to help her in the slightest.

The last time she had indulged in thinking about her, really thinking about her, had been about six months or so after London Zoo. Quinn had sent letters to her university, easily finding the only Santana Lopez enrolled, but had never got any responses. Since then, thoughts had been banned, blocked out because it was simply easier to deal with that way. Less painful. At first, this had been deliberate, and therefore difficult to control, but over time it had become steadily easier and almost second nature.

The pavement quickly disappeared under her feet as she pounded on the concrete, no real destination in mind. Distracting herself, she smiled as she remembered exactly why she was in London in the first place. She might be completely exhausted, and unwanted memories might be in her head, but there was no denying that the fact that she was about to finish her first ever book tour (and a successful one at that) was actually pretty awesome, and a great achievement.

Rolling her eyes, she ascertained she was being ridiculous. Thinking of Santana was inevitable really when she thought about it, and certainly wasn't something that had to be negative. With that thought in mind, Quinn decided to make the most of her time in London rather than dwell on her past.

She wasn't sure exactly how long she'd been walking but the aching in her feet, coupled with the fading light of the sun, told her it must have been a while. Her eyes spotted a familiar green sign and it occurred to her that a caffeine hit was probably just what she needed.

The queue wasn't too long, not when considering she was in London (in a particularly touristy area too) and it was almost Christmas. Familiar songs full of bells and choirs played all around her, filling up the empty spaces of her mind. She focused on them, only breaking to order her coffee.

She had always loved Christmas. Well, she had always loved the idea of Christmas anyway. The music, the lights, the snow... It had always seemed so magical as a child, yet when the actual day came it had never quite been what she had hoped. Never quite been right. At least that's what she had figured out when other children at school had talked about their Christmas holidays.

It had taken her a long time to work out why this was. They had the presents, they had the turkey; they even had the clichéd roaring fireplace complete with stockings hanging from it. That was all well and good, but growing up, she had realised that if your family didn't love each other, really love each other, then it didn't seem to mean much at all. Her family was complex and she knew it, but she guessed that at least for the most part they'd tried.

As she grabbed her coffee, smiling and thanking the young girl serving her, not for the first time Quinn wondered if maybe she should contact her Mom. It had, after all, been a few months since they had last spoken. Those phone calls were never easy but it was the holidays and she hadn't called on Thanksgiving either...

As her mind became consumed by these thoughts, she was far too preoccupied to even notice that her current path was leading straight to a head on collision.

"Watch it!"

Quinn looked up just in time to see a woman dodge to the right, narrowly avoiding being drenched in Quinn's coffee. It took a second for Quinn to realise what had just happened, or rather what had almost happened.

"Oh god... I'm so sorry. I didn't even..." Quinn's words tumbled out of her mouth, slightly incoherent but genuinely apologetic. It was only as she turned around, and her eyes focused on the woman that had almost been the victim of her shower of hot coffee, that those words became completely stuck in her throat.

Quinn wasn't sure exactly how many seconds passed but all she knew was that neither of them were saying a word. Eyes she had never dared to believe she'd see again were fixed on hers, and she had no idea what to say. Apparently, the feeling was mutual, and when the silence was eventually broken it was neither of their voices that brought them crashing back down to earth.

"Santana?" The young girl called out from behind the counter, "Peppermint hot chocolate for Santana?"

Quinn noticed Santana's mouth open slightly, but no words came out. Instead, she smiled somewhat awkwardly and gestured towards the counter where her drink lay waiting, turning her back on the situation and allowing Quinn an extra ten seconds or so to work out what on God's earth she was going to say.

You're being ridiculous, Quinn. She's just a person. Yes, you have history. Yes, it's not particularly good history. But she's still just a person. Just say hi.

As Santana turned back around, cup in hand, Quinn took her own advice quite literally. "Erm... Hi."

"Hi," Santana responded. She shook her head slightly and laughed softly, "You'd think after so long we could do better than 'hi' wouldn't you?"

Quinn nodded, a smile creeping across her face, "For a while we had silence so at least we improved on that I guess."

As Santana laughed, Quinn felt it echo through her, dredging up pieces of her past that had been locked away for longer than she cared to remember, "That's very true. So what brings you to London?"

"I'm on the final stop of my book tour." Quinn could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and she prayed Santana couldn't hear it. The whole situation seemed so impossible, yet here they were, standing opposite each other. She had no idea why she was so nervous. After all, Santana was really just an old friend and bumping into old friends was supposed to be fun. She pushed the feelings away, instead focusing on enjoying the moment. "What about you? Did you stay here after university?"

Santana nodded, "Yeah, I managed to get jobs dancing in a bunch of productions. I'm in Chicago right now."

"Santana Lopez on the West End, huh? That's fantastic, San. You're really living the dream." Quinn grinned.

"Says you," Santana smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn laughed, "I guess it's funny how things turn out."

"It sure is." Santana paused, and Quinn found herself wondering what thoughts were filling the brunette's head.

As Quinn looked at the woman across from her she noticed all the little changes that had happened over the past seven years. The way she stood was slightly different, her cheek bones seemed more pronounced, and a few soft lines surrounded her eyes. It all suited her. It seemed right somehow, as if she had become the person she was meant to be. The person she had been searching for when they had first met.

Quinn tried to push back the memories but they came at her like a tidal wave, and she found herself awash with guilt. She knew it was probably stupid. It had been years. Yet, for some reason she had to tell her. Even though it didn't really matter, she had to tell her she was sorry. Sorry for hurting her. Sorry for leaving. Sorry for everything.

"I… I'm sorry," Quinn blurted out, "About that-"

"Stop, Q." Santana smiled softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. There was no look of surprise in her face. It was almost as though she had expected to have this conversation from the moment they practically crashed into each other. "It was a long time ago. All is forgiven."

Quinn nodded slowly, her voice quiet. "I guess I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"I know." Santana paused for a moment, a thought clearly playing on her mind. Finally she said, "I always knew. I got your letters. Thanks for those by the way. Sorry I could never say that to you at the time."

After she had let Santana's words settle, Quinn started to understand that none of it mattered anymore. Here they both were, and maybe the past didn't have to matter.

Of course, that didn't mean they had to forget. Forgetting was impossible. But how it affected you, how it influenced you, how it changed you... Well they were things that could be controlled.

It was only now that she realised that, try as you might, there were just some things you couldn't push away, couldn't ignore, couldn't erase from your memories. Some things just mean too much, almost scarring your brain and heart permanently, whether they are good or bad. And it was those things that perhaps you just had to accept and embrace. They would always be there and maybe that didn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe, in some sort of way, they made you who you were supposed to be all along.

As these thoughts ran through her mind, Quinn noticed the red cup in Santana's hand, currently being lifted towards her mouth. It took a moment for its significance to be fully understood by Quinn's brain.

Santana had ordered her drink to go.

No doubt she had somewhere she needed to be.

The problem was that there was a part of Quinn that didn't want to let Santana walk away. Not again. Not yet. What that meant exactly… Well she wasn't sure. Perhaps it didn't have to mean anything. All she knew was that she wanted this chance encounter to last a little longer. There was so much to catch up on, so much that had happened to both of them, and Quinn knew she wanted to hear about it all, wanted to share it all.

As the words left her mouth, part of her mentally chastised herself for allowing them to slip out so easily. Pointing to the cup in Santana's right hand she said, "You don't have somewhere to be… Do you?"

Quinn half expected Santana to raise an eyebrow in response, but instead was greeted with a soft smile.

"I'm in no rush," she replied, nodding her head in the direction of a free table in the back corner, "Besides, rushed goodbyes are so 7 years ago. I think this time we can do a little better."

As Quinn sat down directly opposite Santana, it occurred to her that she had no idea what this was at all. But maybe she didn't need to know. She wasn't sure of what the future held, she wasn't sure if Santana would play any part in it at all, and she wasn't even sure exactly what part she would want her to play anyway. In fact, she wasn't sure of much at all.

However, the one thing she was sure of was that whatever this was, and whatever it might end up being, it seemed like a great way to start again. And maybe, just maybe, that was perfectly alright for now.

The End