"I'm not a traveling maid."
"No, you're my friend, and friends move in together. Can you imagine, if we lived in the same house-."
"As opposed to twenty feet away from your house-."
"We won't have to do Morse code with flashlights from our bedroom windows anymore."
Quinn held up the spatula, "I swear to God, Yahweh, Allah, Budda, Brahmin, Zeus, and Isis for gender equality's sake, if you tap Morse code through my wall, while I am trying to sleep at night-."
"It's me, and Sara, in one room, Daniel in another, and Smith has a bachelor pad in the basement. If you don't move in, Sara's going to ask Olivia to move in. I hate Olivia," Gabe complained.
Quinn frowned, "I thought Sara did too. Why doesn't she ask her best friend?"
"Melody can't get out of her lease," Gabe said. "I don't want to invite just any friend. I want my best friends."
"You've got Daniel, and Smith already," Quinn admonished, "You're being greedy, Chump. Let Sara have a girlfriend."
"You're a girl. You're my only platonic girlfriend," Gabe said, "I think all the others want to sleep with me."
Quinn lightly smacked his abs with the spatula, and he faked that it hurt more than it did. "You think? I'm the only that doesn't want to, because I'm the only one that ever had to clean up after you. If I move into a house with you, I'm not going to clean up after you, or cook for anyone, and I'm going to be mad if you don't do any of the cleaning."
"I'm going to be mad if you don't eat during your finals, and if you bring Todd by the house to study," Gabe exclaimed. Ashamed for a moment, he said, "Sorry. I got offended when you insinuated I wouldn't be responsible, but I realize you need confirmation that there is going to be a shift in the dynamic of our relationship. We were a friendship out of convenience, and though we've always been friendly, there was difference in our socio-economic status, and now that will be changing, and I will be very supportive."
"Sara told you to say that, didn't she," Quinn said. Gabe nodded. Quinn went on, "And you got lost halfway through her speech, so you just said things you knew she repeated a lot."
"How did you know?" Gabe asked sheepish. It was awkward to see a six foot one sports star blush.
"She's a psych major, for starters, so she's the only person who would talk about a shift in a relationship's dynamic. She's trying to counsel our relationship, like a quack in training would. Second, it's a thing girls do. We repeat certain phrases a lot when you aren't listening, so that you'll at least remember those key terms," Quinn said.
"So you're moving in?" Gabe made a pass at a cookie, and Quinn rapped his hand with the spatula. He proclaimed, "Hey, you know I'm still kind of your boss."
"And those are for your guests, boss man," Quinn stated, turning away from Gabe to finish transferring cookies from the baking sheet, to the plate. "Be grateful, in a week, you've got to make your own cookies."
"Until then," Gabe bent down, and heaved Quinn over his shoulder. He picked up the plate with the other hand, and walked out of the kitchen. In the living room, Gabe deposited her by letting her roll off his shoulder, and fall the rest of the distance. On the other hand, he carefully set down the plate of cookies. She gasped during her short fall, and glared up at him, after scrambling to seat herself upright. Grabbing the spatula from her, before she could do any more damage, he pointed it at her, and lectured, "Serves you right, for making me think you weren't going to move out with me, and for hitting your boss multiple times." Mockingly, he glared at her, setting his jaw, and raising the spatula threateningly, "Why, I oughta . . .."
Her eyes melted like goo as she cringed for protection. Letting his arm drop, he laughed, "You know I'm kidding. Now go enter my guests, serving woman." With the spatula, he pointed towards the door.
Dubiously, she raised her eyebrows. Gabe rephrased, "Sorry. Please go let our friends in?"
"Fine, but then I'm going to sleep. I've an interview tomorrow morning," she said, walking past him.
He ran to get in front of her again. "What?"
"I've an interview. I need a new job, since I'm quitting this one."
"Dr. Richards," Quinn said.
"You're his favorite. You can stay up to watch one movie."
"That we've seen forty times. Allow me sleep, Master Lawson," Quinn drawled. "This interview is important to me. And give me that, it belongs in the kitchen." She snatched the spatula, and went to open the door.
"Medeiros, my sweet, Mexican, Latina princess," Ty stepped over the threshold.
"Babaca, I try to be so patient with you, because I know you're head so tapado," Quinn said to Ty, "But I am not Mexican, or Latina. For the last time, querido, I am Português."
"Yeah, Babaca, chica," he said with a thumbs up. His twin sister, Tina shot Quinn an apologetic look. She smacked the back of her brother's head, and said, "Babaca means something like stupid jerk."
"Naw, she wouldn't call me that. Everything knows stupid in Spanish is estupido," Ty replied.
"Babaca," Quinn whispered to herself, as Ty disappeared into the living room.
"What did you call me?" Sara's voice drew Quinn's attention back. Her eyes widened, as she scrambled to explain, "No, I wasn't calling you-."
To her surprise, Sara smiled, and brushed Quinn's arm. "I know. Ty still refuses to recognize that you are not Hispanic."
Sara walked past Quinn, leaving the girl to stare after her. One kiss didn't make Sara more amiable, did it?
After quickly cleaning the spatula, and the baking sheet, Quinn slipped out the back door. She was halfway to her house, when a voice asked, "Where you off to, Sugar pie?"
Quinn jumped. After a long exhale, she opened her eyes, and saw Sara leaning against a tree."
"You freaked me out," Quinn complained.
Playfully, Sara grinned, "Yeah, I like it your eyes do that thing where they almost pop out of your head."
"Everyone else is inside," Quinn said, "Is there something I can do for you, Ms. Rowan?" God, she loved hearing Quinn say that. The girl had no idea what rippled through Sara's body when she peered up with the gooey eyes, and pouty lips, to ask, What can I do for you, Ms. Rowan? "Sara?" Quinn cut into her thoughts.
"Yeah, there's something you can do. I want to try something," Sara told her.
Inquisitively, Quinn tilted her head, "How can I help?"
Roughly, Sara grabbed the collar of Quinn's shirt, and pulled the girl towards her, Swirling around, Sara maneuvered so that she could slam Quinn against the tree that Sara had been leaning against. For a brief moment, she stared into Quinn's placid eyes. She did not look as taken aback as expected, nor as timid, but she was still weaker, and part of Sara wanted to punish her for that.
Her mouth dove, and crashed onto Quinn's, who's eyes closed as her mouth welcomed the salty attack of Sara's lips. She felt a thrill rise in her stomach, and spread throughout her body. She wasn't sure if the feeling was pleasure, or anxiety at who might see. They might have been obstructed by trees, but someone could still see if they wanted. Every thing about this kiss was wrong. Not that the first two had exactly been chaste.
This is your best friend's girlfriend, a part of her screamed. Just try to imagine the look of betrayal on his eyes. It will be worse than the time you washed his lucky shirt, before the World Series, five years ago.
This was nothing like the first kiss. Sara was exploring Quinn's mouth in a way that was vicious, in way that made Quinn want her to be more vicious. She wasn't just letting it happen either, her mouth was begging to taste more of Sara. Her hands slid up Sara's arms, one grasping her upper arm, the other hooked onto Sara's shoulder for support.
It made Quinn dizzy just thinking that they could be caught out there, not just because they were girl on girl, or that Quinn thought these moments were private, sacred ones, but also because of how hurt Gabe would be. Would it soften the blow is she offered him to join?
However, it wasn't enough for Sara. She'd already had command of Quinn's mouth, and while it was lovely to explore, she wanted more. She wasn't even thinking about the consequences of getting caught, but how she could ravage Quinn's body. Her hands took on a life of their own, sliding down Quinn's body, to the hem of her shirt. They hesitated for a second, seeing if she would protest.
Feeling Sara's slight hesitation, Quinn whimpered so softly, trying to suckle more from Sara's mouth. Taking it as a sign of invitation, of begging, Sara slid her hands underneath Quinn's shirt, and let them run over the smooth skin, until they found Quinn's breast, and squeezed.
Quinn shivered, her breath shaking. She didn't stop kissing though, and she let Sara alternate between rubbing her breasts in circles, and squeezing, gentle at first, then a little rougher. Suddenly, Sara needed even more, she didn't want to just explore, but ravage, and with Quinn, that was so easy.
Sharply, and without warning, Sara grabbed onto two vulnerable nipples, and twisted sharply. Surprised, Quinn whimpered, and melted against the tree. Her head fell against the silver bark, and Sara's mouth followed, to stay on top of Quinn's.
When Quinn had whimpered, Sara had released her hold on Quinn's nipples, and went back to rubbing her breasts, but she found she liked how it felt to sternly twist her poor tits. Grasping them again, she gave them another hard pinch. Quinn could retreat no further, not even with the smallest of withdrawals, and it was hard to whimper with all of Sara's mouth and tongue creating a gag. It was driving her wild to have nowhere else to go, to have mold to Sara's whim. It drove Sara insane that Quinn was ready to lead. This time, Sara released the pressure, but still held the nipples in a mild pinch. Still feeling that savage need to punish, she twisted again.
When she let go this time, Quinn's mouth detached from hers. "Is this acceptable as to how you imagined it would be?" Quinn wondered.
"It will do," Sara answered simply.
Quinn gave a soft grin, "So I was successful in helping you, Ms. Rowan."
Inwardly, Sara groaned. By now, Quinn had to know what hearing that did to Sara, to devilishly through it out there. It rippled through her, and Sara needed to make it ripple out of her, so she gave Quinn's breasts a few more pinches that were playful in nature, but neither harsh or light in severity. "Had enough, lover?"
Though it was a joke, hearing the term lover did something to Quinn. "Oh, no," Quinn moaned, and tried to hide her face in her hands.
"What?" Sara asked.
"It's so wrong," Quinn admitted.
"You regret what we did?" Sara slid her hands out from under Quinn's shirt. There were reasons why it was wrong, the one reason being it was cheating, and the second being, they were cheating on Gabe's property,
"A couple minutes during it, I couldn't have cared if it was being broadcasted on cnn," she confessed, "It's just that I can't stop thinking of that song, she's my best friend's girlfriend."
Sara laughed, and grasped Quinn's hand. "I'll walk you to your door, milady."
"My breasts miss you," Quinn grumbled.
Sara scolded, "Well, they mustn't be greedy."
"I'll tell them, but I don't think they'll listen very well."
"If they don't behave, I'll have to punish them tomorrow," Sara said, "After your interview."
"Sara, what is this?" Quinn asked. They were just in front of her house, but no one else would be home until much later. "Is this we had a little fun, and we're done? Or is it something else? What do you want from me?"
"You kissed me first," Sara reminded her.
"You kissed me twice, and hurt my womanly attributes," Quinn cuddled her breasts, cupping each in a hand. Softly, she insisted, "Just tell me what it is, and I will agree."
"This is goodbye," Sara kissed the hand of Quinn's that she was holding. Dropping it, she leaned in to kiss Quinn's cheek. "That was I'll see you tomorrow. And this, is good luck on your interview."
Sara cupped Quinn's chin, and kissed her in a surprisingly gentle way. Quinn knew Sara's kisses could be addictive, now Quinn knew how sweet they could be. Quinn stood there a moment, feeling like she was going to sway like a falling tree. Then she turned, walking into her house, Sara watching her leave.