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The movie's only twenty minutes in when Finn starts sniffing and asks Quinn to hold his drink. Twenty minutes. Quinn knows this because she is a) sitting next to him, and b) bored out of her mind. The actress is doing her best to sell how much she misses her husband now that they're divorced after years of romantic emptiness and his moving out of the country, and Quinn is so not convinced. The guy was an asshole, and she's way better off without him.
It wouldn't be so bad, except Brittany is sitting at her other side, blocking Santana.
Playing solitaire on a cell phone is only fun for so long, and so long is long gone by now. As it is, there is nothing to distract her from munching on popcorn, and she's going to get fat, and when Santana points it out, because Santana hasn't gotten any mellower since she decided it would be fun to fool around with Quinn backstage at Regionals, Quinn is going to stick a Diet Coke can just like the one in her hand up Santana's butt.
It would only be fair, given it was Santana who caved in first—who caved in, period—when Brittany caught them making out after Glee practice. Brittany grinned scarily wide and clapped excitedly and was all, "Oh my God, you guys should totally tag along to the movies with me and Finn on Friday! It would be so fun, like a double date!" and before Quinn could drag Santana away with her, Brittany set the puppy dog eyes on them.
Quinn turns to Brittany. If she glares hard enough, she's sure Santana will feel it despite the girl-shaped wall standing between them. Which is also Santana's doing, as if this whole ordeal wasn't torturous enough by itself to last Quinn a lifetime.
Quinn can't imagine a world in which a double date, any double date, would constitute a good idea, but a double date with your ex-boyfriend and your current girlfriend's alarmingly snuggly BFF? Even disregarding the fact that your current girlfriend used to get her alarmingly snuggly BFF off on a regular basis, it just sounds like the premise for a terrible comedy, which is not only an obvious sign that the evening doesn't even have a shot at ending well: it's also incredibly tacky.
Honestly, Quinn has no idea how she let Santana rope her into this.
(There may have been flashing involved, but Quinn's not about to admit she's that easy.)
The sneaky wrong seating is completely useless anyway, because Finn's movie dates are movie first, date second, and he wouldn't have attempted to touch Brittany even if Santana hadn't made Quinn squeeze in between them. Finn actually got the better end of the deal, because he's engrossed and doesn't have to worry about paying attention to a girl instead of the screen. And Brittany—
—Brittany's resting her head on Santana's shoulder and snoring lightly. Brittany's taking a nap.
Quinn gracefully slouches down in her seat and twists and stretches her leg until she finds the right angle to kick Santana without hitting Brittany in the process.
(And that is why she thoroughly deserved to win Nationals last year.)
Santana just glowers at her before shrugging haughtily.
Quinn presses her lips together and stares eloquently at Santana. This is the look that says, if you don't do something right now, I'm teasing and not pleasing you for a month, and if you even try to sext me, you will learn the meaning of 'prude.' It's a language they've perfected over years of Cheerio practice and plots to take down their competitors, and Santana's superciliousness unsurprisingly cracks in the face of it.
Maybe Quinn won't have to stand a full evening of torture after all.
--
Santana takes Brittany to the restroom to freshen up and probably give her a talk just as the movie switches focus to the main character's best friend's struggles to maintain her marriage afloat.
Quinn can't believe they're watching this.
(She also can't believe this movie filled an entire room. What is wrong with people?)
"Misery loves company?" Finn mumbles sheepishly.
"Right," Quinn whispers unconvincingly. Since she has Finn's attention now, she takes the opportunity to add, "Do you realize Brittany's actually nervous about going on a date with you?"
"She is?"
"Of course she is. She asked her best friend to tag along. I don't buy that whole the more the merrier bullshit for a second. She thinks because you dated me she should make an effort to be more high-maintenance. If you don't disabuse her of that notion soon, she is going to keep ruining my dates, and then I will have to play the jealous girlfriend card and prepare a funeral for my reputation."
Finn just looks confused for a few seconds, and then says, "But I'm not good at high maintenance. That's why you and I broke up."
Quinn shakes her head. "Okay, Finn: do you honestly believe she's aware of that? She's not used to simple. The closest thing to a boyfriend she's ever had is Santana, and Santana is the complete opposite of simple. Santana is complicated. Santana shakes you around and turns everything you thought you knew about relationships upside down until you choose to stop worrying and just go with it. You don't need to be simple; you need to be blunt."
"I am blunt," Finn says with a frown.
Quinn lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Look, when they come back, she's going to sit here, right next to you, and you're going to hold her hand over the arm rest."
"That's not that blunt," Finn says. "I though you were asking me to be blunt."
"No. I am telling you to hold her hand so she knows where you're starting off. Because right now, she has no idea."
She moves over to the seat Brittany was occupying, ignoring the protests from the row behind her.
(Anyone who's genuinely enjoying this movie should have a chance to stop looking at the screen and reflect on the source of their enjoyment.)
"Wait," Finn says, just as Santana and Brittany are walking towards them, "how do you know what kind of girlfriend Santana is?"
She blinks and almost answers, but she's busy dragging Santana out of the seat next to Finn, and anyway, it's not like she has a simple explanation ready, or one that doesn't involve referring to Santana as Quinn's girlfriend right in front of her.
(It's easy to refer to her that way in Quinn's head, because Santana's never really been her friend, and the word 'lover' is wrong on so many levels, but Quinn doesn't think Santana would appreciate that. Quinn herself wouldn't if she were standing on the other end of the designation.)
So Quinn makes sure Finn's treating Brittany right instead, just so she has a good argument if Santana tries to make her go on a double date with them again.
--
And yet, proud as Quinn is of her handiwork, it would probably be a good idea not to overlook it. Finn looks so besotted and Brittany looks so pleased and just—
"That is disgusting," she mutters under her breath, and Santana has the nerve to snort at her. "You owe me," she adds.
Santana smirks at her and leans in, whispering into her ear, "What do I owe you, exactly?", and it's so—unexpected Quinn almost moans. Almost. It catches her off guard, that's all.
"I'm not sure yet, but I'll think of something," Quinn mumbles, and reaches down to cup Santana's knee, lets her fingers slide just a little up her thigh meaningfully. Santana tilts her head and brings her mouth even closer, warm breath skating over Quinn's neck before Santana's teeth close lightly around her earlobe, and it stops feeling like they're on a double date at all.
(Quinn knows the people sitting next to her, but they might as well be strangers for all the attention Santana's dedicating to sucking on the sweet spot where Quinn's jaw meets her neck.)
--
Quinn must have been really right about Brittany, because when they get out of the theater, Brittany's loosened up enough to feed Finn leftover popcorn.
Quinn can tell Santana's been trying to hide her repulsion for the Brittany's sake, but even she makes a face at that. Then she says, "I'm going to get some ice cream, you coming?" The way she looks at Quinn is almost pleading, and Quinn isn't really in the mood to watch Finn and Brittany make eyes at each other and intertwine their pinkies, so she laces her arm around the one Santana's holding out for her.
When they get back to the parking lot, Brittany is sitting on the hood of Santana's car, and Finn's leaning against the co-pilot door, drinking soda and looking at Brittany absentmindedly.
Santana takes a look at the two of them and fishes in her bag for the car keys. Quinn expects her to step into the car and tell everyone to get in or stay behind, but what Santana does is say, "Catch," and throw the keys at Finn, who somehow reacts fast enough to see Santana's threatening glare and catch them.
"You're letting him drive?" Quinn asks.
Santana shrugs like it's not completely unheard of—like she hasn't refused to let Quinn even touch the steering wheel dozens of times. "I have some business to tend to," she says, and drags Quinn into the back with her. As they settle, Santana whispers, "That'll keep his hands away from B."
"Should I be jealous?" Quinn asks. Santana directs her gaze to the rearview mirror, where she can see Brittany smiling at Finn around a mouthful of whatever it is she's eating. "That doesn't tell me what I need to know," Quinn explains, and Santana's face goes from perplexed to exaggeratedly cutesy in a matter of seconds.
Quinn ignores her in favor of making sure Finn doesn't drive them into a ditch, and then makes the mistake of offering Santana her attention again.
Santana gets a glint in her eye as she dips the spoon into the ice cream, and Quinn instinctively pulls back when Santana raises it as though she's waiting for Quinn to open up and let Santana feed her.
"Don't," she says, voice sharp, and Santana laughs and licks the ice cream off the spoon herself. Then she sticks out her tongue, which is covered in creamy vanilla, and gestures for Quinn to come closer with an inviting finger.
Quinn tries to ignore her again, keep her eyes on the road, but she can see Santana in the rearview mirror, can see her waggling eyebrows getting progressively more and more ridiculous, and eventually Quinn shakes her head and takes the spoon from Santana's hand.
She stares at Santana the whole time she licks it clean, and watches Santana's smirk grow genuine—still openly lascivious, but in a more subdued and honest way—and meet Quinn's mouth way before Quinn's leaned all the way in.
And then they reach a red light and Santana breaks away to make sure her car's all right.
Finn's face in the rearview mirror is a sight to behold.
"Wait," he says, "are you guys, like, dating?"
Brittany frowns and says, "Duh," and Santana blinks and raises an eyebrow before telling Finn, "And that is why we broke you guys up."
Quinn laughs as Finn focuses on the road again. She leans into Santana and whispers, "I thought you did that so you'd have a shot at me."
Santana just says, "Don't flatter yourself," but there's a flicker of a smile there even as she adds, "If I'd known you'd become more of a pain in the ass than when he was dating you, I would've let him police you a lot longer."
Brittany grins widely and says, "That is so sweet," and Quinn only feels murderous for about as long as it takes Santana to resume the kissing.
Still, Quinn is never going on a double date again.