Title: The Plan (It’s a Good One)
Word Count: ~700
Rating: teen, for swearing
Content Notes: no major archive warnings apply
Pairing/characters: Quinn Fabray/Brittany Pierce/Santana Lopez
Spoilers: Vague for the series.
Summary: Their plan has always been beautifully simple: graduate and get out of Lima for good, by any means necessary. Quinn’s unplanned detour sophomore year notwithstanding, it’s been a good plan for the three of them.
Author’s Notes: originally written for the fan_flashworks Anywhere But Here challenge. Unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own.


Quinn picks at her fingernails and glances up at Santana for the third time in as many minutes.

“Stop chewing your lip,” Santana says without looking up. “You’ll make it bleed and then Britt will be all over you.”
“Are you done yet?” Quinn asks instead of snapping back with what she actually wants to say.
Santana holds out the paper she had been looking over. “If you don’t get into whatever school you want with that, I will personally kick the ass of every administrator who turns you down.” She shrugs. “So where are you sending it?”

Quinn flushes and starts shuffling papers on her desk. “Um, OSU, Yale, Cornell, Brown, and, um, Columbia.”
“Columbia?” Santana smirks.”Well, let us know when you start getting your financial aid packets. I’m already prepared to go through Britt’s.”

Quinn laughs wryly and joins Santana on the bed. “When did you have her send off her applications?”
“I gave her Halloween as her deadline.” Santana chuckles quietly when Quinn curls up against her with an arm slipped around her waist and head resting against Santana’s shoulder. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable with my person.”
“It’s my bed,” Quinn reminds her, squirming closer. “You can leave any time you want.”

Santana says nothing, concentrating on breathing slowly and regularly; she can feel Quinn’s heart pounding against her ribs. Santana waits quietly while Quinn’s anxiety recedes; it’s been a long time since they were close enough for Quinn to want something like this from her.

“Less than a year, right?” Quinn asks quietly some time later.
Santana nods slowly. “And then we’re out of here.”
Their plan has always been beautifully simple: graduate and get out of Lima for good, by any means necessary. Quinn’s unplanned detour sophomore year notwithstanding, it’s been a good plan for the three of them. Santana and Quinn are first and second in their class, somewhat to the irritation of Mike Chang, and Brittany has almost guaranteed acceptance at several performing arts colleges. All that remains is the waiting for acceptance letters.

Thanksgiving is next week and Quinn has been even more anxious than normal; Brittany keeps saying she’ll be fine after Christmas is over, but won’t actually tell Santana what’s going on. If reading over Quinn’s application essay and sitting with her will help, Santana will do it, gladly. It would, of course, be easier to comfort Quinn if she knew what had her so riled, but Santana can make do with the information she has.

And a few good guesses.
“You have to see your dad Thanksgiving day or Black Friday?”
“On the day, for lunch,” Quinn mumbles, wrapping her arm tighter across Santana’s stomach. On the nose, then.
“Are Britt and I still staying over that night and shopping with you Friday?”
Quinn nods silently, pressing her face against Santana’s chest.
“Then fuck him.” Santana knows the profanity will annoy Quinn more than anything. “He doesn’t get to make your entire vacation shitty, just because he’s decided to play the douchebag card.” Careful, careful, she was such a Daddy’s girl when she was little. “We’ll be at Britt’s. Come over whenever.”
“Thank you,” Quinn says quietly.

They lay there silently for a while. Long enough that Santana watches the room get darker, gloomy. And Quinn still won’t budge, heart still pounding that shade too fast, clinging to Santana like a lifeline.

Finally, Judy comes home. The sound of the garage door jolts Quinn out of whatever daydreams she’d fallen into.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she grumbles, rolling over to turn on her lamp. “Don’t you have to pick up Brittany from class?”
“Not tonight,” Santana says. “She’s coming here after she’s done. Didn’t she tell you we’re staying over tonight?” Santana smirks at Quinn. “Whoops.”
“Brat.” Quinn can’t quite keep the laugh out of her voice or the smile off her face. “We’re really getting out of here?” she asks suddenly.
“Babe, we are really getting the fuck out of Lima.” Santana’s smile turns wry. “Not quite sure where we’re going, but away is enough of a start.”