Paperweight

Chapter 2: Part 1

Santana glares in disbelief at the computer screen. Wrong username/email and password combination is blinking back at her after her third failed attempt at logging into the studio's Twitter account. Muttering angrily in Spanish, she stands up and storms out of her office, quickly taking the elevator down one floor and stomping towards Quinn's office. Flinging the door open, she takes a brief moment to gloat at the amount of paperwork covering Quinn's desk, before narrowing her eyes at her best friend.

"What the fuck did you change the Twitter account password to, Fabray?"

Quinn doesn't even bother looking up. "Santana loves penis, all one word and all lowercase."

Santana blinks at Quinn before picking up an eraser sitting on the bookcase next to her and flinging it across the office, watching it bounce off Quinn's annoying head. Slamming the door on Quinn's protesting, she is about to go back to her own office when she notices a blond guy standing in the middle of the hall squinting down at a piece of paper in his hand.

"Can I help you with something?"

The guy spins around, and the first thing Santana notices are his lips. They're huge. Like, Santana thinks this guy may be in possession of the biggest mouth she's ever seen, and she's known Rachel a painfully long time. If this guy and Berry had a kid, they'd probably just come out a giant mouth. Horrifying.

Fish Lips gapes at Santana for a minute before deciding to open his massive mouth and actually clue Santana in on what he's doing lurking in the middle of their studio.

"Hi! Uh, my name's Sam. Sam Evans, I'm, um, looking for Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray? I have an interview with them."

Santana glances at her watch and realizes it's almost noon, and therefore time to start interviewing what she expects will be a lot of morons and only a few potential new employees. Mornings really fly by when you're plotting ways to subtly put hair dye in your best friend's shampoo. She glances back up at Sam and tells him to follow her.

"I'm Santana, nice to meet you." She sticks her hand out in greeting, deciding that she'll be polite and nice to as many of the interviewees as she could, so as not to completely ruin their chances at expanding their staff. Sam grins goofily at her and shakes her hand.

Santana leads him into Marley's old office where they'll be conducting the interviews and tells him to have a seat and wait while she fetches Quinn.

Quinn glares at her as she walks into her office. "Come to throw more stationery at me, Lopez?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "The first guy we're interviewing is here. Sam something or other. He kinda looks like a male version of you. Except with a huge mouth. And he probably doesn't have a stick wedged up his ass."

It's Quinn's turn to roll her eyes as she stands and brushes her hands over her top, getting rid of imaginary dust and lint. Like Quinn would ever be seen as anything less than immaculate. Grabbing the folder full of questions to interrogate the interviewees with, she brushes past Santana and walks down the hall without a word.

Sam looks up as the two women sweep into the office and his eyes widen slightly as he gulps loudly. Santana doesn't really blame him. If she was suddenly faced with two smoking hot women in business suits her brain function would probably lessen significantly as well.

Quinn smiles at Sam as she sits down opposite him. "So, Sam was it?" Sam nods, returning the smile nervously. "I'm Quinn. I'll just ask you a few questions while Santana here looks through your portfolio. First off, how are you?"

Santana smirks at Sam's confused look as she picks up his portfolio. Evidently the rumors of Quinn and herself not being the mostly friendly of people have managed to infiltrate art schools now.

She tunes Sam and Quinn out as she flicks through his portfolio. She's impressed. His work is actually really good for a just graduated designer. She interrupts Quinn asking Sam about his family to interrogate him about something that might actually be useful to them.

"What area of design did you specialize in Sam?"

He whips his head round to look at her. "Animation. I, uh, I really like video games, and originally I was interested in designing them, but that was a bit too scientific for me." He scratches the back of his head as he smiles bashfully. Santana glances at Quinn and sees a genuine smile on her face as she looks at Sam. Evidently he's won her over already. "Then when I went into my junior year at Watkins and we had to declare a specialty, I picked animation. I have a little brother and sister so I was always being made to watch cartoons." The way Sam averts his eyes at the end of his sentence makes Santana think maybe he liked the cartoons just as much as his siblings. She's finding it hard to find anything bad about Sam so far. He's kind of like a giant puppy dog that you can't help but like.

"As I'm sure you know, Lopez-Fabray is split into three main departments," Quinn trails off, raising her eyebrows at Sam, prompting him to continue.

"Advertising design, photography and animation. I know your animation department isn't as big as the other two, but it's still one of the most respected ones in New York and it'd be an honor to work for you both." He grins widely at them both.

"Correct," Quinn smiles back at him. Oh God. Santana's almost certain they're going to end up hiring Sam, and she doesn't want Quinn to do anything stupid like sleep with one of her employees. "I am head of photography and Santana is head of advertising, however we do not have a designated head of animation. As it's not one of our primary focuses, that department sort of just runs itself, and Santana and I both oversee it."

Sam nods, eyes flicking between both women. Santana continues to flick through Sam's portfolio, confirming her hunch that he's basically just a child in an adult's body. Most of his work seems to be aimed towards young children and very early teenagers, and Santana thinks that might come in handy. Almost all of the work the studio had produced had definitely been for people more around Santana and Quinn's age. Expanding to add in a younger demographic certainly couldn't hurt.

She half pays attention to Sam and Quinn chatting while continuing through his work, picking up that Sam is 22 and from Tennessee, and moved to New York after graduating from Watkins College of Art And Design in Nashville. After Quinn looks through his portfolio, and Santana asks him a few more questions, they inform him the interview is over and they'll get back to him within the next few days. He stands up and shakes both their hands, thanking them both for having him, his guppy lips stretching into a huge smile, before walking out of the office.

"Please don't sleep with him." Santana winces slightly. That wasn't quite how she wanted to bring that up.

Quinn's head whips round and she glares at Santana. "Excuse me?"

"That came out wrong."

"You think?"

"Look," Santana huffs. "Despite my concerns that some of our very expensive software might be sucked into his black hole of a mouth, he's actually really good, and he has my vote for hiring him. But I saw the way you were looking at him, and he was even less subtle with his leering. I don't want to hire him just for you to fuck him and then we have to fire him."

Quinn stares at Santana for a second before bursting into laughter. "I know I should really be offended by that statement Santana, but I don't think I can be, as that was possibly one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard you say," At Santana's unimpressed look, she continues. "First off, if either of us slept with an employee, I would put a hundred dollars on it being you. Secondly, yes Sam is cute, but I think it would be like sleeping with a family relative. You said so yourself, we could be siblings. Number three, I know this might come as a shock to you, but people smile at each other when they are trying to be friendly, not solely because they want to have sex with them. And finally, I agree with you for hiring him. Now can we please forget the first half of this conversation ever happened?"

Santana just grunts in reply, and places a tick next to Sam's name on the list of interviewees.