Just a little one-shot I decided to write today. I think my brain just needed to write something less angsty and more fluffy since my main story can be a bit intense to write sometimes (no worries though, I still love writing it and an update for that is coming soon!). It's been an idea that's been in my head for a while, I've just been waiting for the right time to get it out of there. I hope you like it!

Fran :)

Smashed Screens and Somersaulting Stomachs

So I'm walking down the street, just minding my own business when it happens… Some jackass ploughs straight into me. Like, hello? I'm right fucking here! Let's face it, I'm too hot not to notice.

Anyway, I can just about deal with being jostled around like a rag doll, but when Mr Idiot smashed into me I was totally about to kick Berry's ass on Candy Crush. And I mean, her high score on Level 63 was about to be completely and utterly annihilated. I was about to make the switch of the century, the move that would smash apart the remaining jelly and give me victory but now I'm looking down at my phone which is lying on the sidewalk.

I pick it up quickly because it's so busy in New York that it's like the stampede in The Lion King is happening every minute of the day. Mr Idiot is already several steps away, having muttered a lame apology, when I notice my screen is completely cracked. I curse down the street at him but he's too far gone.

Wanker.

Beneath the cracks I can just make out enough of the screen to still ruin Rachel's morning, and with a quick flick of my finger I smash her high score into smithereens. I grin slightly before remembering that thanks to Mr Idiot my phone now looks like King Kong mistook it for his chest and went all crazy bashing his giant fists on it. My grin quickly disappears. Good job Kurt told me to take out that insurance… His theory was that I'd ruin it when drunk and on a night out, I insisted I wouldn't but as usual the Berry-Hummel tag team approach was too irritating and I bought the damn insurance just to shut them up. Kurt was wrong about how my phone would get ruined but he'll still act all smug because he was right.

I can still make out the time on my phone screen. 7:43am.

I don't have enough time to drop by the store before work, that's if it's even open at such a ridiculous hour. I make a mental note to go in during lunch, not that I need a note considering the splintered mess of a screen that I can see will serve as a constant reminder.

The tall building looms in front of me, a vision of glass and steel. I swipe my keycard against the entry pad and the door effortlessly slides open. In high school I'm pretty sure no one would have thought I'd be a swanky lawyer, earning the big bucks and living in New York, but here I am. I have to admit, I really like my job. I get to kick people's asses and make them look small on a daily basis, something that's always been my forte. In high school I was an ace at putting people in their places, and this is no different. Plus, these people all absolutely deserve it so when I get to that moment when I win the case and I get to smile smugly in their stupid faces? Yeah, that moment is pretty much the best shit ever.

The morning goes by quickly. I'm working on a big case and there's a whole ton of paperwork to wade through. A paralegal is working with me on it, he's actually pretty good but that goes without saying since I hand-picked him to help me with this case. Before I know it it's midday and my phone pings, indicating I have a new text message.

Rachel: Still on for our lunch catch up? Oh and I noticed your high score on Candy Crush. I hate you.

I suddenly remember that she rang me over the weekend to arrange to see me over lunch this week. I feel bad but I know that if I don't go to the phone store straightaway then my phone will just bug me until I do, turning me into a bitch that's impossible to be around.

Santana: Sorry, some jackass made me smash my phone screen this morning so I need to go to the store to sort it. Still managed to kick your ass even through a cracked screen though. Raincheck? Tomorrow?

She immediately replies, the speed at which that girl texts continues to astound me.

Rachel: Tomorrow sounds good. I'll let Kurt know about your phone, he'll be thrilled ;) Also, I'm still two levels ahead of you anyway.

Santana: Quality not quantity, Rachel. That's what matters.

I roll my eyes, smiling slightly as I do so. Kurt, Rachel and I have been friends since high school. Well… since senior year of high school. Before that they were pretty much on my 'don't-talk-to-ever-unless-you-want-to-be-a-social -recluse' list, but things change and I'm very glad they did. They've turned out to be two of my closest friends, and the fact we all live in NY is pretty sweet.

I wander out into the warm air, heading to the phone store. I decide to head to the one to the East of where I work, since it's more tucked away and therefore will be much quieter. I pit stop on the way, grabbing a sub to vanquish the hunger that's been building in my stomach since my morning coffee.

The store, as I suspected, is quiet. Actually dead would be a better word, which is good because I'd like to get this sorted as soon as possible. Spending my whole lunch break surrounded by phone geeks isn't exactly what I had planned. I wander towards the till, which appears to be lacking any actual workers. I raise an eyebrow as I look around the store, wondering where the hell anyone is. Suddenly I notice noises coming from below the counter.

It crosses my mind that two people could be having a sneaky make out session below there, and I smirk because let's face it, in a quiet store that would be a great way to pass time.

Wanky.

But then I remember that this is a phone store and normally the people that work here aren't quite that ballsy… Whenever I've been into this store before I've been met by guys who are a bit socially awkward. It's not that I frequent the store a lot; in fact I can count the amount of times I've been in on one hand.

I clear my throat and hear a thud.

"Ouch," someone mutters beneath their breath.

A girl emerges from beneath the counter, rubbing her head and holding a cardboard box that she was clearly rummaging through. As she looks up, her eyes meet mine and my stomach flips involuntarily. God, this girl is hot. Since when do hot girls work at this phone store? Clearly I've spent my entire life walking into this store at the wrong moment, or on the wrong day…

"Sorry to keep you waiting. You haven't been there long have you?" The girl gushes apologetically.

"Oh, no." My eyes flicker to her name badge which reads 'Quinn'. I look at the girl again, this time studying her features in more detail. Her hair is blonde and is just above shoulder length. In one side she has a flower clip holding back a strand of hair which looks completely adorable. It's then that I notice her eyes, looking into them properly for the first time. They're stunning and I'm not even sure how to describe them because honestly there's no word in any language that could do them justice. Technically I think hazel would be the correct word, but that doesn't even begin to accurately describe the complex colours I can see in them. I tear my eyes away and remember that I should probably say something else since Quinn is eyeing me with curiosity, "I, erm, I only just got here so that's ok."

Quinn flashes an adorable smile and my stomach once again jolts, doing something that feels remarkably similar to a loop-the-loop, "Oh good. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting."

"Well, you didn't." I respond, "Are you on your own?"

"Oh. No. Well, I mean right now I am but Kevin will be back soon and Dave had to nip out. I'm not even meant to be here but they needed some help so…"

I'm curious and I decide that fixing my phone screen can wait another few minutes, "Oh?"

"I used to work here but then I opened up my studio so I quit, but Lisa well she's ill and they needed someone to step in… Just for today. So, I'm basically a one day deal." Quinn shakes her head slightly, as if she's remembering that she's supposed to be doing a job, "Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble. What can I help you with today anyway?"

"Oh, that's ok. I'm in no rush." I grin, lying. I am definitely in a rush but somehow the pile of work waiting for me at the office disappeared from my mind as soon as Quinn smiled. I want to ask her more questions but decide that I should probably tell her why I'm here, "Erm, my phone screen. It got smashed. Some idiot walked straight into me this morning and knocked it from my hand." I pull my phone from my purse, popping it onto the counter in front of us.

Quinn smiles sympathetically, "What a pain. I've done that before, although I have to admit my smashed screen was all my fault. I hope he at least tripped slightly after he bashed into you."

"Unfortunately not."

"Well if you ever see him again you should definitely trip him up. Not that I'm encouraging violent behaviour of course." Quinn winks and my stomach practically shoots straight out of my body and starts doing an Irish jig, "You have insurance?"

"Erm, yes. Yes, I do."

"Cool, well it should be pretty simple to sort then. I'll just need your name so I can find your details on the system."

"Of course. Lopez, Santana Lopez." What the fuck?! Since when do I say my name like I'm James Bond?!

"Ok, Mr Bond," Quinn giggles slightly as she starts typing.

Oh god, she noticed. "That's me. International woman of mystery."

Quinn looks up, one eyebrow raised, "Isn't that Austin Powers and not James Bond?"

I swallow, "Yeah, well you know, I like to cover all bases when I'm referencing fictional spies."

"Of course, it's always good to be thorough," Quinn looks at the computer screen in front of her in confusion.

"Problem?" I ask, noticing how adorable she looks with her eyebrows all furrowed like that.

Quinn jabs at the keyboard, "Oh, this computer is just being super slow. I normally use the one at the end but it's broken."

"Well, clearly this one is insecure. It knows you don't normally use it and your presence is making it nervous."

Quinn smirks and giggles slightly at my comment, "I didn't intend to make it nervous."

"I'm sure you didn't mean to, it's out of your control," I reply. It's been a while since I've flirted properly with anyone and I'm not sure if my words are coming out leery, flirty, pathetic, creepy or just weird. All I know is that I really want to flirt with Quinn, and I do not want to go back to work yet.

A smile tugs at Quinn's lips, but then it disappears and is replaced with a look of concentration, "Ah, the computer decided to wake up." She types quickly, "What's your number?"

I rattle the digits off quickly as she types them in. As she finishes I find myself saying, "Very forward of you to ask so abruptly."

I am totally beginning to cross the line between friendly banter and flirting, and Quinn is bound to pick up on it. After all, that wasn't exactly subtle. It occurs to me that I don't even know if she swings my way, but then she looks up at me with a playful look in her eye as she bits her bottom lip and my gaydar begins to set off alarms in my head. Either she's gay or she's just a very flirty person.

Her teeth let go of her bottom lip as she opens her mouth to respond. As she speaks her eyes don't leave mine. She says every word with utter precision, each syllable beautifully accentuated, and it's sexy as hell, "Technically I have to ask that question to everyone. I've found your details though, Miss Lopez, and fixing this screen shouldn't be a problem at all. We just need to send it off for repair. Of course you'll get a replacement phone while you wait, which I can set up for you if you like. We like to make sure our customers get the best customer service possible."

"The customer service has been exceptional so far. Thank you, Quinn." Her name leaves my mouth for the first time and I realise that my tone of voice came out a lot lower and huskier than I had intended.

"Glad to hear it. You should get your phone back within 14 days." Quinn steps to the side, moving out from behind the counter. She slides past me, walking a little closer than necessary, "I'll just go grab your replacement handset. I won't be a moment."

Quinn walks off, opening a door at the back of the store. My eyes follow her and I can't help but notice how sexy her ass is. I tear my eyes away a moment too late and find her looking at me, smirking slightly, as she disappears behind the door. Clearly, she noticed where my attention was fixed. It would probably be impossible not to notice.

Less with the leery, more with the flirty.

She returns and I smile as her eyes meet mine, "Here. I'll just make sure it's all set up for you and then I'll print you out a confirmation for your repair and that's it."

"Thanks, you're very efficient."

"I do my best."

Quinn's tapping on the screen of the phone she got for me and I realise that I'm not going to have much longer in her company. The thought makes me feel kind of weird. Being around Quinn is making my head feel light, and my knees a little weak… All those dodgy clichés from bad movies are suddenly making sense. It occurs to me that I haven't felt like this for a long time, if ever. I admit I've been sort of out of the game for a while, ever since Lana and I broke up. It wasn't intentional but my work keeps me pretty busy so I don't have that much time for going out. However, there's something about Quinn that makes my insides turn to jelly and it's not a feeling I want to ignore. What is it Rachel always says to me? Oh yeah, life is too short for missed opportunities. She's got a good point.

But what if Quinn isn't gay? After all, this girl is working (well, sort-of working since she doesn't technically work here anymore) in customer service. It's her job to be friendly. I ponder for a moment, realising that even if she isn't gay, the likelihood of ever seeing her again in a city as big as New York is unlikely so if I humiliate myself then it doesn't really matter.

I find myself asking the question before I've realised I was going to, eager to know more about her, "So, you said you opened a studio?"

Quinn looks up, a friendly smile on her face, "Yeah I did art at college and I've been saving for a while so I could open up my own place. I've started teaching at the youth centre too. What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer, so I kick people's asses on a daily basis. I'm basically like a real-life Superman." I grin, "Art, eh? I won't lie, I can't even draw stick men without them looking like the product of a kid in kindergarten."

Quinn laughs and as cheesy as it sounds I think I finally understand what people mean when they say a sound can be like angels. I sort of want to punch myself for even thinking something so ridiculously vom-worthy, but I just can't help it around this girl. I'm not sure what she's doing to me but damn, I like it. Quinn interrupts my thoughts as she replies, "I'm sure you can draw a great stick man."

"Oh, really, I can't. They always look a bit… wonky," I reply, tilting my head slightly to the side as if to reinforce my point.

Quinn laughs again, "Everyone can draw a stick man, I promise. You know, I bet I could teach you and then you'd be a world-famous stick man artist. Although since you're practically Superman, I'm not sure you need to add any extra skills to your bow."

"They call me Super-San. You know… Like Superman but… not." My sentence finishes ridiculously lamely but even that doesn't stop me from allowing a huge grin to appear on my face. I don't care if she's kidding about her offer to help me draw because now all I can think about is how much I would love to see her again, "You know, I'd really like a stick man lesson. After all, drawing stick men is a really important skill in life."

Quinn looks up again from the phone screen, an eyebrow raised and a smile playing on her lips, "I could definitely teach you."

"I'm sure you could." Our eyes have been fixated on each other's for so long now that I'm not sure I ever want to look away. But it's out of my control because suddenly Quinn blushes, her eyes shifting and focusing on the counter where we first met.

"I should erm, just print out the paperwork for your repair." She walks back over to the computer and types quickly on the keyboard. Within moments the printer is whirring and a piece of paper is shooting out. She folds it in half and holds it out towards me.

I take the piece of paper and as I do our fingers touch lightly. My eyes widen slightly at her touch, an involuntary response, and my mouth seems to go dry, "Thank you."

"It's no problem at all." She slides the replacement phone across the counter, "It's been programmed to have all your numbers in, since they're backed up on your account."

"They are? God, I bet Rachel did that for me. It's the kind of level of organisation she has," I say as I grab the phone, unlocking the screen in a vague attempt to inspect it and look like I know something about phones.

Quinn's eyes widen ever so slightly, it's not much but I notice all the same, "Rachel?"

I smile, checking out the list of contacts on the replacement phone and finding that sure enough, they're all there, "My friend. I've known her since high school. She's highly irritating a lot of the time but she can also be pretty awesome."

Quinn grins, "Your friend. Cool. Oh, well, actually the numbers get automatically backed up to your online account so your friend didn't do anything, I just synced it all up."

"Well, thank you. So…" I pause. Since I saw her all I've wanted to do is crash my lips into hers. Maybe we could make out beneath the counter since I'm pretty sure it's never seen any action. But now I realise that I don't just want a hook up with Quinn. I've only shared a short conversation with her but already I know that this girl is worth more than just a heated encounter in a phone store. I'm about to speak but Quinn beats me to it.

"So, look, this might be really forward but…" She pauses, looking nervous. The vaguely embarrassed look on her face does nothing but make me want to kiss her even more, "I don't suppose you're single?"

Her question makes my stomach turn into a full-on rollercoaster, twisting and turning in a way that makes me feel overjoyed, "Yes, I am."

"Oh… Good." Quinn looks somewhat stunned, yet pleased, although she's clearly unsure about what to say next.

"You know, there's a problem with this phone." I say suddenly.

"Oh?" Quinn looks surprised.

"It's missing a number." I smile suggestively at her and slide the phone towards her. On the screen I've started typing in a new contact, naming it Quinn. The cursor is ready and on the box where the number needs to be inputted. It may be cheesy as hell but I'm going there anyway, "After all, how can we arrange a stick man date if I don't have your number?"

Quinn smiles, and starts typing in her number. My stomach jumps for joy, doing a victory dance inside me, "A date, huh?"

As she passes the phone back to me I nod, "Yep, a date."

She bites her lip and all I can think of is how I want to lean over the counter and bite her lip for her instead, but then I think about taking her on a date and how amazing our first kiss could be if I do this whole thing like they do in cheesy romcoms. "So, Santana, I'll see you soon then?"

"How about tonight? What time do you finish here?" I suggest, unsure if I really want to wait longer than that until I see her again.

Quinn smiles shyly, "I finish at 6."

Normally I stay at work until after that but tonight I'm making an exception, "Pick you up at 7?"

"That sounds good." She grabs a piece of paper and scribbles something down quickly, "This is my address."

I grin, "I'll see you at 7 then."

"See you then."

I know I've got to go. Not only have I spent way longer than I meant to in the phone store (which is obviously all Quinn's fault because I hadn't factored in the appropriate length of time to fix my phone and meet the potential girl of my dreams) but if I'm going to leave earlier than normal tonight then I better get back and make sure I've got everything done. I smile, "Yeah, I'll see you later. Oh and thanks for sorting out my phone too."

Quinn giggled, "That is sort-of my job, you know. I'm sorry your phone screen got smashed though, it can't have been a good start to the day."

"I'm not sorry at all." I flash a smile in her direction as I reach the door of the shop, winking cheekily as I do so, "I think this day turned out pretty good. Bye, Quinn."

I walk down the street, practically skipping. I realise my temporary phone is still in my hand. I unlock it and it reopens on Quinn's contact page. It enters my mind that she doesn't actually have my number, not for this phone anyway, and I quickly compose a message.

Santana: I can't wait to learn how to draw a stick man. I have a feeling you'll be a great teacher. See you tonight, Q.

Quinn: By the end of the evening you'll be a pro, I promise. Maybe you can teach me to fly, Super-San.

I might not be able to fly, but Quinn's text sure sends my stomach soaring off into an unknown galaxy anyway. My stomach definitely hasn't been as skilled at acrobatics before as it has been during the last hour, clearly a side effect of having Quinn-itis because there's no denying that I sure have got it bad. Who would have thought that a smashed screen could lead to this?

I grin and it crosses my mind that if I ever see Mr Idiot again I kind of owe him because thanks to him this day is turning out to be, quite possibly, the best day ever.

Author Update:

Alright, so I didn't expect to get such lovely responses. Thank you. A lot of you have asked me if I would extend this so it's more than a one shot. I would definitely consider that, because I had a lot of fun writing this. At the moment I already have a lot going on with my main story (What Happens in Florida) and a side project or two. However, adding to this in the future is certainly a possibility. I don't know if I'd post it as a new chapter on here or a whole new story.

No promises, because my schedule is rather hectic, but who knows.

Feel free to find me on tumblr where you can ask me questions or get updates. You can find me at:
pensieri23 dot tumblr dot com