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A friend in need // Samtana

Sam: needed a friend. More specifically, he needed a friend like Santana. Who knew what had gone on with him since his arrival to Lima and more importantly, knew /him/. She was his friend and someone he trusted to tell it like it is. Perhaps he needed that right now. He drove on over to her place without a second thought. He wanted to see Quinn, of course, but he wasn't sure when it was her and Puck were meeting and so, wanted to stay out of the way for now. Hanging with Santana just ticked every single box of 'perfect' right now. He parked up and locked up his truck, making his way to the front door to give it a quick rap with his knuckles, to let her know he was there.

Sam: smiled as Santana answered, his arms going around her to return the hug. He had no problem with them sitting outside and truthfully, he too needed air. He'd spent most of the day cooped up in his room at the Hummel-Hudson abode. His morning run hadn't lasted long and since his return, he had simply been laying on his bed, watching old movies. There was an occasional pause for Temple Run or Men in Black on his phone but otherwise, it was uneventful. Something that gave him time to think; not a good thing when on his own. "Sure thing," he replied, turning to follow her to wherever it was she wanted to sit.

Santana: 's dad had just recently hooked up a porch swing, so she led him off to the left side of the door and sat down, patting the spot next to her. "Thanks for coming over. I needed a break. I mean, I love my parents, but God, they're exhausting." She smirked a little, leaning her head on Sam's shoulder when he sat down beside her. "So. Spill. What happened with Aria?"

Sam: moved to sit on the swing with her, grinning when she commented on her parents. He lifted a strong arm to wrap around her shoulders, holding her as they sat there together. He didn't quite know or understand where things had developed between them in to this friendship but he wasn't ever going to question it; he was happy that there was a comfort between them that meant they could sit like this on a porch swing without the either suspicious of the motives of the other. "They are kind of cool though," he commented with a tiny grin. He'd not 'met' them per say but her parents were good people. Even if he was sure her Momma had escaped from Munchkin land, she was that tiny. Exhaling heavily at the mention of Aria, he smiled a sad smile, shrugging the shoulder not currently being used as a pillow by her. "I broke up with her."

Santana: looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "I kinda figured that bit out, Evans. But /why/? I thought you were really into her." Hell, just recently when she'd talked to him, he'd still seemed like he was falling for Aria, and then all of a sudden, they were over. She probably shouldn't be surprised - that was how a lot of high school 'relationships' went. But Sam was different, a very commitment minded guy. "Did something happen?"

Sam: let out a heavy breath then and nodded slowly, turning his head a little to press his cheek against her head for a brief moment. A closeness kind of thing; Sam needed that support and that simple touch helped calm his nerves nicely. "We'd talked a few weeks ago and I... told her how I felt for Quinn. We were talking 'bout Quinn and Ezra and you know, being honest. Then at the party, Aria dared Quinn to kiss me and because I wasn't the one to say no, Aria got mad at me. I guess we were a little rocky? And then I told Quinn how I felt. I had to with her going to Yale. But she... loves me too." He frowned then; not because he was unhappy at that, but because saying it out loud made it seem so dirty and almost like he'd cheated and gone behind Aria's back. Maybe he had. He'd just not put that perspective on it, before. "I can't give myself totally to Aria when I'm in love with Quinn. Especially when I know she loves me back. So I... broke up with Aria. And she's going to break up with Puck and we're going to be together."

Santana: wasn't exactly the speechless type. Exactly the opposite in fact. But it did take her a few seconds to do something other than stare at Sam in shock. "Damn, I can't afford to go away again pretty much /ever/. So much crazy shit happens when I leave. How are you and Quinn going to 'be together'? She's going off to Yale in August and you'll be /here/. That's a serious drive and long-distance sucks. You really think you can make it? I mean, I'm happy if you're happy. Just... You thought about this stuff, right?"

Sam: nodded his head at that, kind of amazed he'd managed to stun Santana enough to have a few seconds of silence from her. Taking another deep breath, he continued to nod, before he was lifted a hand up to rub the back of his neck for a moment. "It's 667 miles between here and New Haven. A 12 hour drive. Less if I speed. I can go down first thing Saturday, get like, 12 hours there, stay over and come home so I'm back Sunday night. And I'm gonna get a job to save up so sometimes I can have flights instead. Quinn's gonna come home too and we'll like, skype all the time. It'll work," he paused then, an almost embarrassed look on his face. "That's why I'm going to classes over Summer. Quinn believes in me, thinks I could make it to Yale. I want to prove her right and be there with her."

Santana: considered that, nodding. She wasn't really sure she could see Sam at Yale. Not to say he wasn't a smart guy, because he totally was. She just didn't think of Sam as an Ivy League man. "12 hours is a ridiculous drive for a weekend, Sammy. But I mean, if you think you can do it...I've got your back." She smiled genuinely and squeezed his arm. "Just don't let her fuck you over again. I mean, I love Q, but what she did to you with Finn sucked." Even if she'd done something similar herself when she was fake-dating Karofsky...

Sam: half smiled at that, nodding once more. "She won't do. She loves me. She knows what all of this means and she knows that this time, it's it. You know? This is real and it's happening. Soon as she's single again... we've not even like, kissed. We're doing this right." He had sat and cuddled up to her for most of the day after they'd confessed their love for each other but that wasn't 'cheating'. He was convincing himself that much. "Thank you, though. I know a lot of people are mad at me right now. It's only gonna get worse when we're together. It means a lot to me that you've got my back."

Santana: nodded again with a smile. "You're my lesbro, Sammy. You've got my back, I've got yours. It's like the fag hag thing but backwards or whatever. Anyway, I've got you." She set her feet on the ground and pushed backward, letting the porch swing start to rock.

Sam: he laughed then, rolling his eyes playfully. "I totally prefer the term lesbro to fag hag." A pause then and he tilted his head back to settle against the porch swing, smiling a small smile as he did so. "Still, means a lot to me. I love her so much, San. Everything with her, even just holding her... I can't even begin to explain what it makes me feel," everything about Quinn just made his world feel that little bit brighter. He couldn't help it. "So..." he began, trying to find some calm in his thoughts again. "What's got you so down?"

Santana: sighed and swallowed back another strong bout of guilt when Sam started talking about Quinn. That was what she'd felt for Brittany, wasn't it? So why wasn't it enough? Why was she feeling it for Hanna too? Why the hell was love so freaking confusing?! She shrugged and shook her head, not sure how to say this. Sam wasn't a fan of cheating, and what she'd done was cheating, no doubt about it. "I fucked up," she said simply. But she continued; that wasn't right. "I mean, not exactly. I don't regret, like, doing what I did, but I just feel so damn /bad/ all the time."

Sam: 's brows furrowed in silent question as she spoke, giving her a tiny squeeze in his hold. Fucked up? That scared him just a little. He didn't know what she could have done but she /had/ been gone for a little while. Who knew what had happened? "What did you do, San?"

Santana: shook her head, feeling stupid and guilty and wishing she hadn't said anything at all. She should've just let Sam vent about his deal and told him she was just being emo about the college thing again. Yeah, she hadn't gone in to specifics yet, but the college thing totally wouldn't fit with 'feeling bad all the time'. "Nothing, forget it," she said quickly. Hey, she still had to try to dismiss it, even if she was sure already Sam wouldn't go for it.

Sam: frowned as she dismissed it and tilted his head a little down towards hers. "I know your avoidance tactics. I mean, we had an epic romance where I got to know you and now, you're my Lesbro. C'mon, San. If there's something going on with you, maybe you should talk about it? And who can you trust more than me, huh?"

Santana: sighed. It had been worth a shot at least. He had a point anyway. He was one of the few she totally trusted. Swallowing hard, she looked up at him. "I've been seeing someone." She bit her lip, then tacked on, "Else. Someone /else/."

Sam: raised up his eyebrows in shock at that, his lips slowly pursing together. To him, that didn't make sense but he figured that was just what it was like for everyone else over the break up of his relationship with Aria. It made no sense to people on the outside. "O-kay... wow. So, who? How long for?"

Santana: had expected that sort of reaction, and instead of feeling better after letting her secret out, she felt even worse. She sighed, looking down at her hands as she talked. "Hanna," she said. "And it's been a few weeks, I guess."

Sam: 's brows then furrowed as he tried to mull that over. Hanna? "I thought she was straight." But of course, his gaydar sucked. He had dated Santana, after all. Biting on his bottom lip then, he gave her a squeeze in his hold, exhaling slowly as he did so. "So... why? I mean, I promise no judgement. I just wanna know what's going on with you."

Santana: let out an exasperated sigh. "We kissed. Some random person texted me, said I had to kiss Hanna or she'd send Abuela that sex tape Britt and I made. So, I kissed her, and...it was /good/. I thought I'd just do it and be done, and that 'A' would be off my back, but I wanted to do it /again/. So," she shrugged, "I did. She came to a New York for a few days after she went up to Rosewood, and...things just happened. Britt and I haven't been really close lately, and I like Hanna."

Sam: nodded slowly as she spoke, listening to her and taking it in. "A is a bitch," he muttered, thinking of his own little run in with A. Not that he dared share that he'd been forced in to things to stop his parents from seeing a video of him stripping. He was scared that if he talked about it like Artie had done with his, it would be exposed and his parents would get the video any way. "Does this mean you're gonna break up with Britt?"

Santana: didn't like hearing someone else saying that. She knew she had to, and even if this thing with Hanna hadn't come along, it would've had to be an option. She'd wanted Brittany to come with her, but because she wasn't graduating, no matter where Santana went, there would be the distance to deal with. And Santana wasn't Sam. She wasn't strong enough to try to fight the distance and she couldn't stay in Lima, even with how much she loved Brittany. "I think I have to. But I don't know what to do. I like Hanna a lot, but I don't know if I should be with someone. Maybe I'd be better off single."

Sam: bit on his bottom lip then, mulling it all over for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure what to say and he didn't want to seem like he was trying to make her choices for her but he also knew that realistically, something had to change. Otherwise, people would be hurt and she would feel even more guilty. He couldn't really comment on the cheating considering everything he'd done lately, and so he wouldn't do. "Maybe... you need to try that and let your head fix? You know, no Britt and no Hanna and just give yourself a couple days or something?"

Santana: nodded as Sam spoke, agreeing since she'd been thinking something along those same lines. "It's gonna be hard, though. Both parts. I mean, I just told Hanna I don't want any space, and I /don't/. But maybe I need it." She put her forehead on Sam's shoulder closing her eye. "God, I'm such a fucking bitch."

Sam: sighed quietly, shifting his arm so he could run his hand along her upper arm. "You're not. You're just confused right now, that's all. If you're questioning if you need it, you probably do. Which sucks, I know, but at least then you might have time to... work out what you want."

Santana: didn't move, just listening to Sam talk. It helped, having his input, but in a way, it made things even more real. She /was/ confused, and she absolutely /hated/ that feeling, and she just wanted it to go away and for everything to be easy. She wanted to be somewhere else, not walking into a drama storm. "Run away with me," she said, looking up at him, a smirk spreading across her lips. "Come on, let's ditch this town." She was only teasing, but she was trying to get her mind off things again. She didn't want her time with Sam to be all angsty.

Sam: rolled his eyes playfully at that, lifting his free hand up to playfully bop her nose with a fingertip. "I'll run away with you but we have to take Rachel. We've come to an agreement that we're going to get married and have 17 kids, so you know. Maybe you can share the load with her, you know? I could be one of those Mormon types with two hot wives," a waggle of his eyebrows at her and he laughed. He figured that was the end of their 'heavy' talk and that was fine. He'd shared and gotten her support and she'd shared and he had hopefully helped her too. So if she wanted light hearted instead, he was just fine for that.

Santana: wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Nuh uh, no way. You and Berry can go have babies on your own," she grinned. She was cool with Rachel now, and they were friendly, but 17 kids was freaking crazy! It fit Sam though. He was a total family guy, she had no doubt about that. "When did you and Rachel decide to get married? Didn't I tell you she'd steal your gold?"

Sam: laughed then, shrugging his shoulders. "This week, sharing our love woes. We decided that the only logical way forward was to marry each other. And you know, she'll only steal my gold now if she divorces me," he laughed again, shrugging the shoulder she wasn't leaning against once more. "Besides.... she /is/ pretty hot. C'mon, at Nationals when she was singing? Daaaamn."

Santana: grinned and laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, all right, Berry's hot." Like, ridiculously hot, really, but she was keeping that to herself. She had enough girl troubles. "Hey, but maybe Quinn will share you with Rachel," she teased.

Sam: laughed then and lifted his free hand to his chest. "Hold on, gimme a second here to picture that.... okay, pictured and I'm done," chuckling, his hand dropped back down to his lap, and he tried to turn on a puppy dog look. "So you won't be part of my awesome and epic marriage? I'm heartbroken, San. I've got all these awesome moves to show you!"

Santana: smacked Sam's shoulder, laughing. "I've seen some of your 'awesome moves'," she said, using the air quotes as she spoke, "and /wow/, but I'm more into the lady lovin' lately. As if that wasn't obvious." Still, that puppy dog pout made her reconsider a little, and she smirked as she spoke up again. "Actually, let me see the moves. I'm /intrigued/."

Sam: laughed then and leaned in a little. "You're wearing way too much for my moves and, seeing as you won't marry me... well, I'm too heartbroken," a waggle of his eyebrows again and he was leaning in to kiss her cheek playfully. "Damn me and my impressive manliness."

Santana: smirked and shoved him away from her playfully. "Yeah, real impressive, that manliness. Too bad I've seen no proof of this manliness." She raised a challenging eyebrow and reached up to ruffle his hair. "Come on, show me! Let's see your moves!"

Sam: laughed then and shook his head, feeling his cheeks lightly flush. "If I do, you'll be all over me. You'll wanna make out and then your parents are gonna hate me for defiling you on a porch swing..."

Santana: snorted out a laugh and shook her head. "As if I'd let you defile me on a /porch swing/," she smirked. "I'm many things, Sammy Evans, but I'm not an exhibitionist."

Sam: laughed again - something so easy around Santana - and shrugged as he looked around. "I've been in worse places. Though I'd probably get the porch swing equivalent of sea sick..."

Santana: poked at his chest, amusing herself. This was some pretty good proof of his manliness, if nothing else. "Swing sick," she declared.

Sam: nodded then, chuckling at her poking at his chest. "Uh huh, exactly. So maybe the porch swing isn't the place for it. I guess you're safe here with me," he smiled though, his arm tightening around her once more to give her another playful squeeze. "I like making you smile."

Santana: grinned and stopped the poking to put her head on his chest. It made for a very firm pillow. "Well, I like to smile. Sometimes. Just don't tell anyone, it'll ruin my rep."

Sam: mimed zipping his lips, before his hand went to her back so he had both of his arms raised and holding her. "Secret is totally safe with me, promise. I'd hate to have Snix come after me."

Santana: leveled him with a very serious stare. "And she will come after you. I have no control over her." The serious facade lasted about another thirty seconds before she burst into a grin. "And she'll cut your ass, Evans."

Sam: let his lips part in faked horror before he was pushing them back together in to a pout. "But my ass is so lovely and firm. I don't want a scar! Okay, no telling, for sure. Snix won't have any reason to come after me."

Santana: nodded and stood up, stretching out. "No telling," she repeated, a little more serious now as she looked down at him. "Promise me. No telling." She wasn't talking about smiling anymore, that much was clear. She didn't want this secret getting out. She didn't want to hear from that 'A' person ever again. She knew Sam wouldn't say a word, but she needed reassuring.

Sam: nodded his head and let his expression turn serious, so she knew that he fully understood just what she meant. "I promise."

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