Archive of Our Own ^beta

Santana was twenty seven pages into The Savage Detectives when Rachel first peeked her head through her curtain-wall. Or, well, half peeked, given Berry only stuck her face through enough to spy at her with a single eye and a third of her face. Before she could grab her bookmark, the diva was gone, audibly fleeing back to the kitchen.

The last few months had been a bit of a whirlwind, to say the least. Rachel had been devastated when her audition for the role of Fanny Brice had failed to nab her the starring role for Funny Girl. Back then, it had seemed like some sort of absurdly fairytale-esque sign that Berry was meant to be on Broadway, what with her favourite play returning after a long time, and her riding a high after winning NYADA’s winter showcase in her freshman year.

Rachel, much like herself, rarely did anything in half-measures, so the whole let-down process was intensely abysmal and drawn out to such a significant degree that Kurt had started shopping for a new apartment three weeks in. By the time that summer had ended, Lady Face had escaped with Blaine to an apartment of their own in Queens somewhere, leaving her and Berry to share the Bushwick flat together. Something she hadn't complained about, since it afforded her an actual place to sleep, a bit less drama, and less congestion for the bathroom in the morning and evenings.

That, and it meant Kurt's watchful eyes wouldn't be starting so intently at her as if she was a puzzle to solve, at least not on a daily basis. Not that she had a lot of secrets, but maybe she had one or two she needed to keep tucked away in the crease of her underboob, particularly one about her remaining roommate.

When Rachel stopped outside her curtain again, her silhouette clearly visible via the lighting from the living room, Santana could only fight back a sigh at the erratic behaviour. It had been like this ever since Rachel ‘recovered’ from the dramatic failure of the audition process, only to witness Funny Girl flail in its workshops and never actually get picked up for a lengthy stay. Surprisingly, she’d only had to put up with two weeks of Rachel ranting about how a different leading lady could have pulled it through to respectability. Santana didn’t really believe that, and given how much of a train wreck the show was, and how little Berry-related fallout there was from it, she had to believe Rachel felt the same deep down.

Ultimately, the whole process had left its mark on her young diva roommate, and Santana was damn thankful for the slightly more humble and rational person she shared a flat with, even if Rachel had moments like these where she was a little twitchy and acting suspicious. Usually, they weren’t really anything to worry about, mostly something to do with needing Santana to step in as a dancing partner to practice choreography, or to ask that Santana cover some of her weekly chores due to some scheduling crisis. Rarely, for a recuperative massage.

However, after Rachel won her second straight winter showcase, Santana had been treated to similar erratic behaviour from the diva before Berry confessed to having a stalker. Of course, Rachel being Rachel, she was oddly excited about her first taste of stardom, as scary and disturbing as it was. It had been dealt with swiftly, Santana calling in a favour from her boss to help give the police a bit more incentive to catch the guy. She was pretty sure Cora just had family in the NYPD, but over her time working as a dancer at the bar, she wouldn’t put it past the aging woman to have some other sort of pull.

So Santana waited, book in hand as she rested on her bed, figuring that something must have happened, given that Rachel had been calm and relaxed over the past week. At least, more so than usual. Sure, Berry still obsessed over some things here and there, and when the diva wasn’t fully focused on school there could be a bit of moping at times, but even that stuff had been minimal over the past six or so days.

Rachel bursting through her curtain forty minutes later, wide-eyed and panic-stricken, had Santana understanding that whatever serenity had taken hold of Berry all week was shot to hell now. She rolled her eyes as the diva shot back through the curtain and dashed away to her own personal area of the apartment. Three visits was usually all it took for Berry to work up the courage to discuss whatever usual minor issues that needed taken care of, so that Rachel had fled after her third just cemented in Santana’s gut that it was something bigger.

Now, it wasn’t as if Santana had gone completely soft or anything, but Berry was her family, and she cared for her. Pretty damn deeply, really. It wasn’t really anything she could help after the diva had wormed her way into her heart during senior year. So maybe, after this little display of flighty panic, she was a little concerned. Maybe even worried. Certainly enough to save her page and place the book on her bedside table, needing her full focus for when Rachel eventually returned.

Santana heard the pacing first, before she heard Rachel break away from it and stop in front of her curtain once more. Then came the sighs. And then the sad, frustrated whining, which Santana knew Rachel thought were really quiet, but in reality the girl really didn’t have that sort of subtlety in her.

She let Rachel peek through the curtain two more times before calling her out on the behaviour. “Just get your ass in here, already, and stop panicking, Berry. Last thing I need is you ranting endlessly to me about how bad stress is for your skin for the next two weeks like I know you will if you don’t get whatever this is off your ‘skeeter-bitten chest.”

Another whine echoed through their apartment before Rachel cautiously walked in, shoulders slumped and head bowed forward in clear despair. Santana expected the usual worry, shame or nervousness that usually accompanied these little talks of theirs, but was floored when she saw the pure guilt written clear across Rachel’s face. The only time Rachel approached her feeling guilty was when she’d done something that would piss her off tremendously, usually some sort of personal betrayal or manipulation of her life.

Which, predictably, had Santana posturing a little aggressively as she sat up in bed. “What did you do?” she growled, letting her inner Snixx out a little, knowing it was a very effective way to get results out of Rachel. Her mind flashed over possible ways the diva could have fucked her over. “Did you berate my boss again?”

The question, more than her tone, startled Rachel, causing the diva to take a step backward, her back nearly impacting with the cheap Ikea bookshelf that barely needed a breeze to fall over. Thankfully, Berry seemed to notice, and stepped clear away from it, but still kept her eyes averted from Santana’s, and her face downcast as she shook her head.

“Did you break any of my dishes? I swear, if you broke that kickass waterfall cereal bowl of mine…” She warned, only to be met with a fervent shake of the head once again. At least with that, she could be sure she’d have a job and a bowl to eat cereal out of tomorrow morning, which meant whatever this was couldn’t be THAT bad. Unless…

“Wait, did you lose or wreck any of my clothes? I know you took those green Jimmy Choos of mine the other day.” When Santana was yet again met with a shake of the head, Rachel curling even further in on herself, looking like she was about to break down and cry, she couldn’t help but voice her concern. And maybe it was in a softer tone than usual, but whatever. “Rachel, what’s wrong? You can tell me. Clearly you haven’t performed any cardinal sins.”

“I went to a casting call…NYADA’s doing a brief summer production of RENT.” Rachel mumbled softly, and the whole teary-faced sadness was totally conflicting with how pumped Berry would usually be over something like that. She hadn’t heard anything about it from the diva, so it was way too early for any parts to be confirmed, she figured, which had Santana a little confused. Maybe more than a little.

So Santana patted the side of her bed that Berry usually took whenever the diva needed to lay down and just vent. Or when Rachel needed a hug but didn’t also want to be teased about their height difference. Sure, it might not have been a super common thing of theirs, but it happened often enough for that message to be sent free and clear. So when Rachel shook her head at that, sniffing back her tears, little red flags started popping up in Santana Lopez’s brain. Rachel never turned down a hug, and suddenly, Santana just really wanted to give her one.

“Don’t tell me… you tried out for the girl that’s high on crack, but thought you needed to go method for a week before the audition.” Santana predicted, her words finally earning her a huff and one of Berry’s usual indignant expressions, as if she’d suggested something absolutely absurd.

“I auditioned for Maureen, obviously.” Berry clarified, and Santana shrugged, sending the diva a message that it was predictable; people auditioned for the roles they wanted, and Rachel had been stuck on the idea of playing Maureen if she ever had the chance.  However, her gesture went unheeded, and so did her impatient eye roll, so she snapped her fingers a few times, wordlessly insisting Berry get on with it. “I may have played up my similarities to Maureen.”

It wasn’t the groundbreaking revelation Santana had expected, not in the least. “So? A lot of people do that for roles they fit well in. And if it’s a little white lie sprinkled here or there, no one’s hurt.”

“I may or may not have said that I was currently in a relationship with another woman.” Rachel blurted out, and Santana could see that wrecking ball destroy the diva’s composure, and the implications of what Rachel suggested became clear quite quickly. The theatre crowd was pretty LGBT friendly, but if Rachel wanted to go for her EGOT, it’d be harder with some industry insiders having that kind of information. It’d make her a harder sell, and would make it harder for Rachel to reach her goals, even if her supposed relationship was a fabrication.

“Okay, well, it’s just a casting director, right? One in NYADA, which is a far cry from a major producer or something like that. I wouldn’t worry about people trying to kill your career this early in the game, Rach.” She insisted, hoping to reassure her tearful roommate who was still avoiding her eyes and ignoring her attempts to get the brunette to take a damn seat beside her. It was frustrating, because Berry needed to see she wasn’t angry at her.

“I’m technically friends with the casting director, and…and word’s gone around school about it. And given I’m likely to get the role, and the crew members have talked about a weekend getaway to bond with each other, and everyone would be bringing their significant others...” Rachel rambled, and while Santana’s brain had indeed concocted some threads that could have led to considering that turn of event, she hadn’t quite expected Berry to make such a brazenly selfish decision. Not since the fallout after Funny Girl.

It was so absurd, and Santana knew exactly what Berry had been freaking out over, and why she hadn’t taken her usual spot on the bed. Rachel was single, and the only out lesbian she knew outside of NYADA was her. Rachel also knew Santana hated being without a choice, loathed it, and if Rachel was worked up over this, then it was serious business.

That it put her in the unenviable position of fake dating Rachel, and putting one of her few secrets at risk only made it that much worse.

“Are you fucking serious, Rachel? You’re asking me to be your pretend girlfriend?” Her words came out in a growl, more as a statement of fact than a question, mostly due to the disbelief in the fact that Rachel would pull this kind of shit on her. The summer play was after the end of term, probably sometime in June or July, months away. A weekend outing together likely wouldn't even cover it.

Rachel winced at her tone, and Santana wasn't sure she’d seen Berry looking so pathetically sad since junior year. “Yes, but just for a little while.”

“How long?” She leveled Rachel with a look that ensured her roommate knew she wasn’t going to take some waffled, vague answer. She needed facts, now.

“Mostly just for the weekend! And...and maybe a few cameo appearances until around opening night mid-July, I suppose. I promise Santana, that’s all, just enough to establish same-gender chemistry so that I’ll be more believable on set and to ensure my lie doesn’t destroy me. I'm sure after a weekend, no one would be suspicious.” Rachel babbled at a feverish clip, words rushing out so fast it took some serious concentration to understand them through the slight enunciation issues brought about by the crying.

She shook her head at the request, feeling like she’d been led into a trap. Maybe not the worst trap, but a trap nonetheless. Still, this was her family, and she was needed. And seeing Rachel cry was one of her few weaknesses. “Hey, Rachel...it's okay. It'll be okay. Just...you realize you’re asking me to be single for a few months…no flings or one night stands... because I’ll be under the microscope, and some of your NYADA friends might recognize me. And then there’d be gossip, and then my rep would take a hit. So you’re damning me to celibacy for as long as we’re exclusive.”

Rachel looked more than a little distraught over the reality of what she was demanding of her and shook her head. “I…I’m sorry. I’ll tell the truth later on, then, and hope it doesn’t bite me in the rear end.”

Santana knew that wasn't an option. Rachel couldn't keep a secret when she was feeling guilty, it'd come out within days, and maybe she wouldn't get the part. Maybe Rachel's career prospects could take a hit. Unacceptable.

“Is this role gonna help you a lot? Like, could it get you what you need for an in on Broadway roles in the future?” Santana asked tiredly, watchful eyes trying to get a lock on Rachel’s stubbornly averted ones. She received a slow, firm nod, and can’t help but let out a sigh. “Rachel, look at me.”

Reluctantly, the diva turned her watery gaze up to meet Santana’s hopefully reassuring one. Rachel still looked terribly guilty and ridiculously sad, nothing changing despite the improved eye contact. “Will you be willing to make this a fair deal?”

Santana knew she was probably being a first class idiot in allowing herself to be dragged into such a dangerous situation, but Rachel was her roommate, probably her best friend, and she loved the little diva, even if Berry probably wasn’t aware of either facts of her life. So when the brunette nodded hastily, like a damn bobblehead, she made a decision she knew would likely be regrettable in the end. “I’ll do it then…but on my terms.” Santana insisted, just about to start listing her conditions when she noticed Berry had a pencil and notepad in her hands, inexplicably.

She shook her head, not knowing the logistics of how that was possible, given Berry was wearing clothes with no pockets, and came in empty-handed, and that the notebook was clearly Berry’s.

“After whenever that weekend thing is, I won’t be able to go to every event, that’s crazy. I have a job...two jobs, actually. And like most people’s girlfriends in the world, I have a life. But I’ll make all the important ones.” She noted, watching Rachel scribble down her conditions quickly, a pink tongue sticking out of the corner of the diva’s mouth in a show of concentration. “I get tired, being a dancer and bartender. A foot massage when I get home, or in the morning, should be a regular thing during our deal.”

Rachel nodded silently at that, mouthing ‘superb foot massage’ as she continued writing. And yeah, Santana really did look forward to that. It was probably her only real selfish condition, getting pampered a bit after her shifts, or maybe in the morning while drinking her coffee if Berry couldn't stay up that late. She gave Rachel massages all the time after dance classes and practices, it was the least Rachel could do to give her feet a bit of loving.

“You also have to give me vocal lessons, because fuck it, I want to sing. I’m damn good already, but this is New York…I need to be better.” That addition had the diva’s pencil still stilling on the paper as she beamed at Santana, clearly happy about the request. “You also have to keep the rants about my diet and your veganism to a minimum, at least when we’re around each other. It gives me a headache, and working in a noisy club or bar doesn’t help with those.”

Santana waited for Rachel to finish writing to provide the diva with her final two conditions; one being obvious, and the other being pertinent to her own future endeavours. “You’re not allowed to flirt with anyone else while we’re fake-dating, because I do NOT want to deal with NYADA gossips flocking to me about you possibly cheating on me. Brings back memories I don’t want to deal with, and it’d make a mess for me at work.” She added, Rachel’s brow furrowing as she frantically scribbled the terms on the notepad, flipping the page so that she could keep going.

Honestly, Santana had expected some sort of comment or rebuttal this far in, but apparently Rachel felt happy enough that she was doing this not to raise any issues. Which would be put to the test with her final term of engagement.

“Finally…when you make it big, I have to be one of the first three people thanked in your acceptance speeches for each initial award you win, and the first name in your first solo EGOT win. Meaning, anything from a minor festival win, to a Drama Desk win, to any of your EGOTs. And I’m not talking some back room win for best group soundtrack, but for your individual performance awards, the big ones.” Santana finished with a devious smirk, kind of loving the gaping, stunned expression of disbelief on Berry’s face.

She counted seventeen seconds before Rachel blinked and sputtered out a response. “Are…are you really that…confident in me?” The question was absurd, because she’d always been confident in Rachel. Always, even when they didn’t see eye to eye, even when they weren't friends, she knew there were big things in store for the pint-sized brunette.

So Santana scoffed, cocking an unimpressed eyebrow at her best friend. “Of course I am, which is why I saved the biggest for last. Hopefully when you’re hitting your award scene, I’ll be an up and coming singer, and the publicity will help. Forward thinking, Rach.”

The diva blushed fiercely, but didn’t waste any time nodding her approval. “I can agree to those terms.”

Santana allowed herself to flop backward against her pillows, hoping she didn’t just make a huge mistake. Technically, she had two and a half months or so before the show would open, which wasn’t the hugest sacrifice; still, she’d been pretty lonely since she and Dani broke up, and going a little more than two and a half months extra without someone else’s touch meant that her Summer would start off pretty rough. After all, she didn't expect Rachel to provide the kind of physical intimacy and affection that usually kept her mood elevated and stable.

Not to mention having to spend that amount of time being close to Rachel in ways that, with great guilt, she sometimes found herself fantasizing about. Berry was straight, after all; it did no one any good to have those thoughts, least of all Rachel if the diva ever found out. Learning the girl who used to bully her had a crush on her would be a bit of a rude awakening for Rachel, Santana figured. It was always easy enough to control those thoughts and feelings when Berry was at a distance.

Having to actually touch Rachel, yeah, that posed a problem. Nothing I can't handle, though...faked my way through most of high school, I can pull it off now, too...

“Well, if that’s all, then go to bed, Berry, and let me enjoy the rest of my night off, my last one as a free woman.” She groused, picking her book back up, happy at least that she’d been in a good spot, which would help her not go to bed worrying too much, or too annoyed.

She heard Rachel slowly move across her living space back toward the curtain, but a few steps later, the diva stilled.

“Just…I know it might be asking for too much, but when we’re out there together, I’ll need you to treat me nicely, Santana.” Rachel noted quietly, her voice tense with anxiety.

Santana lifted her gaze from the book and shot the diva a pointed look, feeling amused that her roommate would even think to say something like that. “I’m not the newbie to dating women here, Rach. Relax, and go to bed, it’s late.”

Rachel’s nerves didn’t dissipate immediately, the girl giving her a hesitant glance before ducking out of her room, light footsteps padding over toward the bathroom for Rachel’s nightly skincare and hygiene routine.

Santana just focused on the book, on the story that was being woven in its words, not wanting to think about what she’d committed to quite yet. There would be time for that later.

Rachel was officially exceedingly nervous. After two weeks of anticipation and tending to Santana's whims, the weekend bonding getaway had arrived, and a work emergency had made Santana miss the trip up to the cottage late Friday afternoon as they'd planned. She'd splurged a bit on a rental car service for her fake girlfriend to use to get up to the lakeside locale Saturday morning, but time was ticking away without a Santana in sight.

Sure, the previous evening had been wonderful, with some karaoke and dancing, sitting around the firepit and sharing stories, and drinking recreationally, but there was a severe sense of Santana's absence with so many of the cast and crew paired up and her being one of the few loners. Add that to no one having ever seen her supposed girlfriend before, and she'd been the target of a great many pitying stares.

Which, while somewhat earned, wasn't really the sort of image she'd hoped to cultivate starting off.

Still, Rachel was determined to push through it, and was happily relaxing with some of her castmates by the water's edge after a few hours of gardening and swimming. It'd been a nice morning, temperatures not too hot but warm enough for them to enjoy the water for at least a little while before stepping out to enjoy the sun.

The majority of the group was either still in the water, or inside grabbing brunch, but Rachel at least had a few new friends to keep her company: Ian, the casting director; Tori, who was playing Mimi; Brad, who was playing Tom; Vanessa, who was costuming and wardrobe; and Curtis, the producer and director of the play.

Ian had just gotten up to grab drinks for himself and Tori when the ice apparently chipped away enough to break. "So, Rachel, how do you think you'll prepare to play Maureen? It's a pretty major role, and this will be your first major off-Broadway role, right?"

Rachel took a deep breath and nodded, knowing much of the cast and crew were older than her, mostly seniors who had worked the odd show or two across their tenure at NYADA. "Well, as with any character, I'll take an appropriate amount of time to get into Maureen's headspace, and live in there until her dialogue patterns and body language become second nature. That will, of course, involve re-watching versions of the play, of the film, running lines with people who know the character well enough to be critical...the usual." Rachel detailed, hoping that if she threw out enough words that someone might latch onto one or two and redirect the conversation.

"You said your girlfriend reminded you in some ways of Maureen. Do you think you'll be running lines with her?" Curtis piped up, nearly drawing a sigh from her with how her efforts had so soundly failed.

"Well, there are some similarities, yes, and she does have some experience on the stage, if just in amateur works... though she did make for a surprisingly remarkable Anita in West Side Story...so I suppose I might end up running lines with her on that. I know she's seen RENT, but when we're together, we usually like to focus on things that aren't Broadway-related." Rachel clarified hoping she hadn't stepped too far over the line in building part of her and Santana's backstory without her partner present.

Just then, Rachel realized with utter shock that she and Santana hadn't composed a unified backstory for their relationship at all. Oh no...I can't just....I can't wing this! What if we get caught in the absurd position where we answer a question at the same time with conflicting answers? Everyone will know!

"Remind me, why couldn't your girlfriend make the trip, again?" Vanessa asked, perhaps a bit too pointedly to be anything resembling innocent. Especially given the woman was looking at her with clearly suspicious eyes.

"Santana had to work last night. My fathers help me a little financially, and my job at the diner helps a bit, too, but ever since my friend Kurt moved out, she's been picking up the slack, financially. There was an emergency at her work, and she couldn't take the shift off without jeopardizing her job, so she said she'd make it by lunchtime." Rachel rambled, relaying yet again, for perhaps the fifth time, exactly why Santana wasn't there.

Vanessa held that suspicious glare, but it faltered just as a shadow hung over Rachel. She was just about to look up when a soft hand smoothed down her arm, while tan fingers gently turned her chin, redirecting Rachel's gaze over her shoulder.

Honestly, all the air must have up an escaped her lungs, because it was impossible to breathe with Santana smiling so softly down at her, with warm eyes and a smile that could light up a twenty-thousand seat arena in the midst of a power outage.

"Good morning, baby."  Santana let out, her words literally seizing Rachel's lungs, the tender caress of her roommate's thumb on her cheek the only notice she was given before that thumb angled her into a kiss so soft and immediately full of yearning that Rachel could almost believe Santana had truly missed her terribly.

Thankfully, Santana seemed to be aware of her inability to breathe, slowly easing Rachel up from her seat to a standing position. It was one of the few instances where Santana's keen observational skills had bailed her out. Later in the day she'd thank her roommate, but for the time being she was too out of breath to continue the kiss much longer, separating from it into a tight hug where she could hide her heavy breathing in Santana's neck for a few moments until she was fully capable of breathing regularly again.

"Oh come on, don't make me feel shitty, we weren't apart for that long, you goober." Santana teased, ever so slightly rocking her side to side, pulling away when Rachel's breathing started to stabilize. Though she still couldn't help but keep her stunned expression, as much as she tried to change it. "Don't tell me you're surprised...I told you I'd be here."

"You...you like to sleep in, and you worked until really early this morning. I thought you'd be here a little closer to lunch." Rachel managed to speak with halfway decent volume and clarity, which gave a bit of a boost to her confidence.

"And renege on our deal? I promised you cookies, and you promised me lunch." Santana said with her smile widening again as the woman pulled a small container from her bag. "The rest of the batch is in the luggage."

Rachel's eyes widened at the sight of her homemade vegan oatmeal raisin cookies, knowing Santana must have used her recipe book to make them. It's already a trek to get here, and no way she got home before three this morning...how early did she get up to make those for me? Rachel thought, feeling tears start to burn at her eyes at the sheer thoughtfulness and selflessness. Cookies hadn't been part of the deal at all, it'd just been for Santana to show up by lunch so she could feed the dancer.

Truly, if that was the treatment that came with dating Santana, then her roommate's dates were fools for letting her go. Rachel knew she had no chance with Santana, which just barely managed to dull the pain of the wonderful things she was experiencing in the moment, but despite everything, she was going to try and enjoy it as much as she could. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, after all.

Hesitantly, Rachel reached out and took the container before pulling Santana in for another hug, only to change her mind midway and lean up for a kiss. After all, they were a couple, and couples kissed. Santana seemed all too ready to return the embrace, her roommate wrapping arms around her and keeping her close as Santana's lovely lips pillowed her own. She's really pushing the method acting...

It was the sound of someone clearing their voice that drew them apart, Rachel's gaze flitting from person to person, realizing all her crewmates were staring. "Oh! I apologize for my lack of manners. Everyone, this is Santana, my girlfriend. Santana, meet Ian, Tori, Brad, Vanessa, and Curtis." She noted, finger pointing each of her fellow cast and crewmembers out.

"It's great to be here. I would have come up yesterday, but work really needed me." Santana apologized, an act so foreign to Rachel that it nearly sent her back into shock, if not for Santana's hand around her waist squeezing her to apparently distract her.

"To be honest, I'm just happy to meet Rachel's inspiration for the role." Ian shot back with an eager smile; he had, after all, heard all about Santana after the first audition.

Rachel felt herself blush as Santana performed one of her trademark eye-rolls. "Of course she'd mention our relationship." Her roommate spoke slowly, with a fair bit of sarcasm as Santana tilted her gaze towards Rachel with a cocked eyebrow, as if the man's words had been news to her. "But...whatever. I do my best to inspire her as much as she inspires me, you know?"

Rachel felt like a deer in the headlights that had just experienced a transport truck skidding by her, missing by inches. She'd entirely expected one of Santana's usual backhanded compliments at best, not a genuine, sweet compliment.

"You know, you look familiar." Vanessa piped up, and Rachel wasn't sure if she entirely suppressed her annoyed sigh.

"I work as a bartender at Coyote Ugly?" Santana offered innocently, but apparently that would have been too good to be true, and apparently far from Vanessa's tastes.

"No, I've never been there." The costumer added with a thoughtful frown, eyes grazing over Santana like she was on display. It was unnerving, and it had Rachel want to cover her roommate up to protect her.

"I'm a dancer at The Gatehouse?" Santana said slowly, making Vanessa's eyes bug out momentarily.

"That's it! Yeah...Berry, your girlfriend's hot." Vanessa stated tactlessly, drawing a slightly awkward laugh from Santana, and a nod from Rachel, not wanting to create an enemy so soon with the glare she otherwise wanted to send Vanessa's way.

"Not to intrude, but how do you handle that, Rachel? I mean, in relation to your character, who's a bit of a free spirit, always drawing someone's eye...there's a bit of a comparison between you and Joanne. How do you handle that dynamic with Santana, with her more 'visible' and charismatic at work?" Curtis asked, his series of questions momentarily stunning Rachel with all the information she'd have to provide that she and Santana could trip over in the future.

Honestly, it all had her realizing that her facade was an utterly foolish endeavour, but while she hesitated, and blanked, Santana once again bailed her out. "Rachel knows that other people can look, they get me on the surface, and whatever act I'm putting on, just like any of her characters. When it comes to everything under the surface, she knows I only have eyes for my little diva. She's my home, everyone else's just an audience for my show."

"I'm not that little..." Rachel found herself grumbling, even if Santana's words warmed her heart, both in the fictional reassurance that she was San's 'home', and in the comparison to stage performance.

"Not to be rude, but you both seem so different. Opposites must attract." Tori noted with a reassuring smile, one that, if Rachel had learned anything that weekend, asserted Tori thought they were cute. Which was a good sign, really.

This time, Rachel could both see and feel Santana tense, apparently not having prepared for this particular question, especially with how it essentially required a dip into who they were and their histories.

Rachel felt confident enough, and finally composed enough, to pull her weight in this facade, finally. "It might seem that way, but we do share a fair bit in common. We're probably more alike than not...sure, I ramble more than her, and I have a more technical singing voice compared to her pure fire and passion, but we're not so entirely different. Certainly not opposites."

Santana seemed pleased with the pseudo-compliment she'd offered, sending a wave of relief through her, knowing that sometimes she'd accidentally offend her roommate when she'd be trying for the opposite.

"I'm sorry for being such a gossip, it's just...you've been so secretive about your relationship, Rachel. I know more about your dads than Santana...how did you two get together?" Tori continued with a sheepish grin, though Rachel knew that if anyone was to lead the interrogation of their history, Tori was the best bet to let them off the hook.

"Well, we met in high school..." Rachel started, only to trail off, unsure exactly how much to tell her new friends.

Santana once again picked up her slack, pulling at her nearest hand and clutching it, almost convincing Rachel that her roommate was nervous by how tense she suddenly was. "It wasn't on the best terms. For the first two years, I bul...I harassed her relentlessly. I assaulted her. I was in a shit place in life, but it was never an excuse, and it was Rachel who ended up helping pull me out of that and to where I could just be...neutral towards her, which is how we spent most of the next two years of high school."

Rachel's jaw dropped hard at the almost tearful admission; she'd seen shame on Santana's face before, and it was lighting up her roommate's face like the fourth of July. If she had any doubts about Santana's acting prowess before, they were cast to the wind, because San looked legitimately heartbroken and remorseful. Whatever Santana's aspirations in music, Rachel would get her roommate scripts to read and auditions to prove herself in.

"I was angry and really mean in high school, too, from being so repressed. Was it like that for you?" Brad asked softly, thankfully having the tact to not put Santana on her heels and press too much.

Santana offered a small shrug. "I was into my best friend at the time...yeah, I lived that cliché...so I mostly just targeted Rachel because she was there, and if I made her a big enough target, maybe it'd take people's focus off of me and my own shit. And...maybe I was jealous in a way that she got to follow her passion, since my mom wouldn't let me take singing lessons, telling me I'd never be another Gloria Estefan or whatever. But that was pretty low on the list. I wasn't jealous of her talent, or anything, I know I'm her equal. "

Rachel playfully swatted at Santana, but liked that they'd be building from their actual history together. She recalled something about the best lies being built around truth.

"You must have been pretty at odds, then." Ian piped up with a halfway nervous grin, probably expecting a turn for the lighthearted in their discussion.

Rachel decided to try for that. "You have no idea. See...Santana was a cheerleader on a national championship team. She was second in command sometimes, or the head cheerleader at others, flipping around here and there with another nemesis-turned-friend of mine. Santana had a lot of power...and at my school, slushies were used as weapons...she must have destroyed my entire wardrobe twice over through her personal attacks and the ones she'd order. I was the captain of the glee club, so I was basically at the bottom of the school's totem pole, even if that was entirely undeserved. Anyways, she was manipulative, and insulted me with all sorts of uncreative names. It made for a difficult starting point for our friendship." Rachel rambled at length, pushing past the stunned expressions of her castmates to focus on Santana's downcast gaze and deep frown. She offered her roommate's hand another squeeze in hopes it'd give a bit of support, even though it was all likely superb acting on San's part.

Santana's eyes lifted and scanned the group as her roommate let out a shaky sigh. "Rachel has the biggest heart of anyone I've known...even after all that shit, she came to me near the end of senior year and asked if we could be friends. Like...it was so absurd, because I'd literally tormented her, and here she was with a big ass smile, and a photo of her to stick in my locker, all hopeful and smiling. And I thought...why not? What do I have to lose? I'd found out over the final two years that she was actually pretty alright."

Vanessa let out a slight groan, but certainly audible enough to catch everyone's attention. "So, what, you escalated from friends to dating by grad?"

"Nah, I went to Louisville for a semester before realizing I wasn't ready to be in school. I visited Rachel and our friend Kurt for Christmas, and Rachel drunkenly offered me a spot at their place, and at the end of the semester, I took them up on it. Just living around Rachel made me want to be a better person, and she helped me see what I should have seen all along." Her roommate relayed , voice growing softer near the end there as Santana lightly shook her hand free from Rachel's and brought it up to caress her face.

The gesture took Rachel's breath away yet again, which she would have been annoyed by had Santana not been looking at her with such intensity and adoration. Past her blooming heart and swoon-ready body, the thought of Santana needing to go into professional acting stuck in her mind. "I saw the sweetest, kindest, prettiest girl was right in front of me, where she'd always been."

Rachel could feel her heart melting in her chest, seeping through her ribs and flowing down to her feet, leaving her entirely lightheaded despite the fierce blush adorning her cheeks. If...if she can make me feel this way while I know she's acting...I can't imagine her power when she actually means it...

The collective of awwws from everyone but Vanessa at least gave Rachel a moment to compose herself, thankful Santana had seemingly won over the group. "So how did you two get together? I mean, Rachel, did you have a crush on her?"

Rachel found herself unsure how to respond, not wanting to give much of her real feelings for Santana away, after all. Thankfully, Santana's happy laugh let her know her partner in crime would be responding to that particular question. "We're both pretty up front about who we like...we're not subtle in the least, so I basically ogled the hell out of her for weeks, made excuses to massage her after dance classes, and helped her with her lines and auditions. I wanted to show my interest and support, that I had something to offer her, and that I'd changed."

That baseline was easy enough to work from, so Rachel took a moment's hesitation as permission to jump in. "I started seeing the same Santana that I'd only ever seen her show one other person in the world, and I grew to really, really like that girl." She added, and that much was entirely true, though via their platonic friendship rather than anything romantic. Though...now that I think about it...Santana had been pretty eager to give me massages...and she really did take a lot of time out of her schedule whenever I needed her help with auditions and lines...but...no, no. Again, convincing lies are built with some truth, and Santana's clearly lying...we ARE fake dating, after all...

"Midway through her prep for the Funny Girl auditions, I came home and saw that she desperately needed a break, or she'd end up collapsing from exhaustion and frustration. I took a few minutes in the kitchen to work up the nerve to ask her out that night." Santana added on, a wonderful enough anecdote, but she wasn't about to take the attack on her focus and endurance sitting down.

Even if it was again based on a real event where she had been exhausted and sleep-deprived and food-deprived, and Santana had taken her out. Suddenly, it all was getting a little too close to reality, and it was all Rachel could do to concoct a slight detour from that.

"San, of course, wasn't brave enough to call it a date, but I could pretty much tell it was from the get go, and by how nervous she was, which is uncharacteristic for her." Rachel piped up, earning a scoff from her roommate, clearly opposed to her assertion, even as San's eyes seemed to soften a bit. "Santana was sweet and gave me a goodnight kiss at the bathroom door, knowing I'd want to get my nightly routine done and then go to bed. San might be built like a succubus, and might sometimes act like one, but she's sweet at heart."

Santana gave her a light shove in protest, and Rachel swore that if not for the skin tone and makeup blocking sight of it, there would be a blush blooming in her cheeks. "I'm hot, I'm badass, and I'm yours...no room for sweet on that list." Santana chided, earning laughs from the group, pretty much assuring their first victory of the weekend.

Where she'd been unsure earlier that morning, now Rachel was confident that with a bit of luck, they could make it through the weekend unscathed. And maybe, just maybe, she could make some nice moments with Santana, too.

Rachel was on cloud nine with how things were turning out. As more time passed, more cast and crew had come by to greet her 'girlfriend', and Santana would effortlessly charm them and find ways to get them more interested in Rachel, or thinking more highly of her. Almost as if Santana was her wing-woman, but for reputation and friendships.

The only snag was that as they made their way inside to have lunch, and progressed through the meal, it was clear that whatever sleep Santana had managed to get that morning, it wasn't much. Her poor roommate was seriously nodding off at the table, even if Santana refused to admit to it, and constantly waved off her concerns or remarks about how tired she must be. And while Rachel usually took her time to eat and was among the last to finish, she rushed through her meal so she could escort San to the living room, where others had gathered.

 The whole process of being ushered made Santana grumpier, a deep frown marring the woman's pretty face, but once they plopped down onto a vacant portion of the couch, a huge wave of relief seemed to wash over her roommate.

"Mmmn, so soft." Santana murmured happily beside her, head angling back to follow the curve of the sofa's backrest.

Rachel patted Santana's thigh, happy her roommate finally got somewhere comfy, hoping to send the message that it'd be okay to relax and enjoy it. "So, any ideas for the rest of the afternoon?" She asked the room, eyes scanning across the dozen or so others around her and Santana.

"Well, the evening's fully booked, and it's going to be pretty active. The afternoon was planned to sort of be a free period, where people can do whatever." Ian answered with a shrug. "Maybe it's me having just entered my mid-twenties, but I'd be happy to just kick back and relax after last night's festivities, and all the games this morning. I think I'm going to need my strength for tonight."

Rachel watched most of the others in the room nod along before Curtis awkwardly raised his hand and scanned the room. "We could watch a movie? Stage to film, obviously."

"Streetcar, maybe?" Vanessa offered, drawing an immediate chorus of approval.

It had been a while since Rachel had seen it, and while she would have preferred 'My Fair Lady' or 'West Side Story' or most certainly 'Funny Girl', she knew it'd be good to go with the flow and not argue the suggestion when so many others were for it. Especially since the producer had been the one to put the movie-watching suggestion forth, and had agreed with Vanessa's choice. Time for providing alternatives could come later when friendships were established; for now, she'd enjoy the film well enough, and the company as well.

It took until the movie started before Santana seemed to realize what was happening. "Oh, I love this one." Her roommate mumbled, both shocking Rachel with the notion that Santana watched classic films, and with the fact that Santana actually enjoyed some.

Despite how sleepy San was, Rachel could tell the raven-haired beauty was putting up a fierce effort to stay awake. Whether it was out of love for the film, or a desire to not flame out in public, Rachel wasn't quite certain, but she admired San's determination.

It was midway through the film when Santana truly started nodding off again, and this time, positioned on a comfy couch, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Santana, please just take a nap. You've more than earned it."

The grumbling was predictable. The annoyed growl was as well, But Santana lifting herself up and sitting sideways on Rachel's lap, lazily wrapping tan arms around her neck, that was not something she could have ever predicted. Not in a million years.

Still, it hadn't garnered the attention of anyone except Tori, who looked like she was about to explode into an array of rainbows and fairy dust judging by her soft adoring gaze. From what she understood, Tori was a bit of a high-key romantic, so it wasn't a surprise that the woman lifted her hands to her heart. "You two are so cute." Tori mouthed silently, and all Rachel could do was blush and feel as if she were violating Santana.

After all, Santana was not used to doing anything of the sort in public. Occasionally, she'd cuddled up on Rachel at their apartment, but only when the both of them had been alone. It was only the immense trust San was showing her that kept her seated.

"Not. A. Word." Santana whispered against her neck as she settled in and got comfy. To be truthful, Rachel wasn't certain she was capable of words with Santana cuddled up on her lap, nuzzling into her neck, all sleepy and cute and warm. The fact that they had another half of a film to get through and mask her inability to speak was genuinely lucky.

Rachel just held her roommate close with one arm, using her free hand to slowly, gently rub up and down San's back, knowing it had helped relax her in the past.

"Bedrooms are down the hall." Vanessa stage whispered at her, drawing the attention of a number of the others in the room, cluing them into the situation. Honestly, Vanessa just seemed to grind her gears more with each word that left her, even if she could see the jealousy in her eyes and partially reveled in it.

No amount of joy from aggravating a skeptic could outweigh the fact that Santana wasn't hers. That Santana would never curl up with her like this again. That Santana would never legitimately date her. That Santana would probably go rush off to date some hotter, more exclusively sapphic woman as soon as their deal was up. Perhaps someone like Vanessa, even.

Suddenly, holding Santana, felt intrusive, too vulnerable. Or, more vulnerable than she deserved to experience with her raven-haired beauty.

"Go 'way. Try'na snuggle up with my diva." Santana grumbled, arms pulling herself a little tighter to Rachel.

Which, no matter the scope of their deal, proved Santana really just wanted to sleep uninterrupted, and Rachel would defend that right.

"San and I are perfectly comfy where we are, thank you. Other couples have been cozy this weekend, we're hardly a spectacle, so please bring your focus back to the wonderful efforts of Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh, the actual show worth watching and commenting on." Rachel chided, knowing that Santana sacrificed and overworked herself to get the weekend off for her. The absolute least she could do would be to take on whatever role Santana needed of her so her roommate could rest up.

Santana let out a yawn, soft lips brushing up against her neck this time around, sending an irrepressible shudder through her body. "Mmmn, you tell'em, tiny.  Cute when you're all bossy." Santana whispered, instilling more than a little confusion inside of her.

No one else could have heard, so San's words were strictly for her pleasure. Meaning...meaning she...thinks I'm cute? When I'm taking charge, but still...cute? She wondered, having never heard Santana really call her that before. Cute...I'll take it...I think...after all, it's a compliment? But...but 'cute' rarely gets anyone the girl. If she said I was sexy, then perhaps I could feel confident I could have a chance, but...cute? I'm...not sure. Teddy Bears are cute. Bumblebees are cute.  Potential dates for someone like Santana Lopez? Cute would probably rest below her standards...

With a sigh, she let herself kiss the top of Santana's head, resuming her back rub once again, quickly ushering Santana into slumber. For the rest of the movie, Vanessa would occasionally glance long enough at them for Rachel to notice, but the woman wouldn't say anything, and would turn her gaze away soon enough. Still, if anything, it was a sign that at least one person wasn't happy she was dating Santana.

That was warning enough for the night ahead.

~4:30pm

There was sand in places Rachel wasn't aware sand could go. Heck, she wasn't sure why she was still playing beach volleyball, not after all of the egregious lies.

Oh Rachel, it won't be violent. Nooo, it won't get you so filthy that you'll need a decontamination chamber and a full flush of each orifice to render you sand-free.  Of course your face will be safe, there's no danger there. Why, no one here would be competitive to the point of homicide-via-volleyball. ALL LIES! Rachel mused to herself as she laid face-first in the sand after getting the volleyball spiked into her head yet again; thankfully away from her nose, but still.

"Babe, are you okay?" She heard Santana ask, voice muffled slightly from the sand accumulated in her ears.

Rachel pushed with her arms, moving to her hands and knees, and Santana did the rest, getting her to a kneel with one hand while the other used a towel to wipe the sand away. "I don't like this." She complained with a pout, an entirely deserved pout at that.

One that she hadn't expected Santana to respect, and yet her roommate just offered a sad smile. "I know, Rach. Would it help if I kissed your noggin better?"

The offer came out of left field, and Rachel was much too sore and upset to deny herself such a simple yet rare pleasure. Hope in her heart that Santana would save her from beach volleyball, she gave a nod.

"Come here, then." Santana murmured, pulling Rachel up against her, rocking her side to side slightly as she pressed a gloriously lingering kiss to her temple, followed up by a bonus one to her crown that had Rachel's chest blooming with adoration for the care San was showing her. It honestly reminded her of how the girl would treat Brittany after a hard cheer practice, and it only had her clinging harder to Santana, not wanting the moment to end.

"Do we have to keep playing?" Rachel asked when San eventually pulled away.

Santana just nodded, earning a groan in response. "We're close to winning. When we do, we can bow out, okay?"

Resigned to more volleyball, Rachel nodded and got back into position. Truth be told, Santana was the only reason they'd been winning. She was a veritable monster of a volleyball player, and it brought back memories of Santana's cheerleading, and Santana's dodgeball skills. Whatever training Coach Sue had put her through, Santana had turned out to be more than a little athletic.

She meandered her way through the next few bits, watching as the ball bounced from side to side, setting it up only when she absolutely had to. She'd taken gym class and knew the basics, but lacked the killer instinct.

It was when another spiked volleyball was sent her way that she let out a yelp and covered her face with her hands, expecting more pain and sand, only to find herself tackled to the ground.

Rachel peeked her eyes open and saw a smiling, if sheepish Santana Lopez on top of her. "Sorry, had to get you out of the way.  Ball went out of bounds without you in the way." Santana explained, which certainly clarified matters, even if it didn't explain why San's gentle weight was still resting on top of her. "Looks like we won, mi estrella. You're free at last."

With that, Santana leaned back onto her heels and stood, offering Rachel a helping hand to get up. The pure thought of no longer playing volleyball overshadowed any joys of victory, and perhaps she rose a bit too enthusiastically, because she suddenly found herself stumbling onto Santana.

Santana, whose arms immediately moved around her waist to stabilize her. Santana, who was still smiling brightly at her, deep brown eyes taking on an adoring tint, almost as if Rachel had hung the stars in the sky. Almost, because Santana was clearly acting, and despite her knowledge of that, still managed to have her fluctuating between believing it was real.

And that, well, that was terrifying. So when Santana moved to celebrate, she took the first exit she could weasel her way into and rushed off to the outdoor shower for some solace and solitude, both necessary to get her head back where it needed to be.

~5:50pm

The musical theatre crowd was a thankfully diverse one, ensuring she had her pick of vegan food to choose from for dinner.  After the misguided volleyball adventure and the rigorous full-body cleanse that followed, Rachel had been starving.

By the time she'd gotten entirely clean again, dinner had started,  and it wasn't long before a slightly buzzed Santana, likely having had a drink or two in celebration of their victory, dragged her off to one of the more comfy loveseats on the patio.

It at least offered a nice view of the water, and had them seated near some of the folks she'd grown closer to. Rachel suspected Santana was playing off of her poor ability to remember names and faces, and get her to stick to a select group for making friends with. A solid strategy, for sure, even if she thought it'd be nice for Santana to believe in her a bit more. It wasn't that she couldn't remember faces and names, it's just that her mind prioritized more important information. If her fellow cast and crew could be incredible enough to find a place in her memory, then she'd remember them much better, of course.

Rachel topped her plate with the assortment of vegan options, only to be surprised when Santana had done the same. Especially since she'd spotted a great many options that her roommate would have otherwise devoured happily. "Santana, you don't have to eat vegan food. I won't be offended if you have meat."

"Well, you ran off before we got our victory kiss...and then I realized you'd make me brush my teeth before I'd have a shot at kissing you if I ate meat, and that's just a non-starter, tiny." Santana noted with a cheeky grin, and Rachel couldn't help but blush at the promise of affection. At how it meshed with long-established fantasies of actually dating Santana, where her roommate would come to that exact same conclusion, and spend the rest of the evening kissing her senseless.

Teeth found and worried at her lower lip, suddenly unsure about how deeply she was getting into this fake dating scheme. It was all starting to be much too stimulating and seductive, and that was dangerous. Santana would eventually leave, it wouldn't do to put her heart at risk like that, would it?

"Hey, don't worry, I took a shower, too. Now c'mere, babe." Santana added, Rachel barely catching the girl's words as San pulled her closer, those majestically soft lips ghosting across her own once, twice, before finally meeting hers in a kiss that felt all-consuming.  Before she realized what she was doing, her hands were caressing San's face and grazing down her roommate's side, thumb brushing against the edge of a delightfully shapely breast.

Her thumb had barely grazed San when her roommate eased her out of the kiss and took hold of that deviant hand of hers, lifting it up to her mouth. "Later, tiny. No groping during dinner." Santana whispered, words punctuated with a low laugh that had Rachel burning with embarrassment.

Still, Santana seemed more amused than offended, not a shred of anger or annoyance in sight. Of course, her roommate had proven her tremendous acting skills already, but there was something odd about San not telling her to keep her hands off the goodies, as she'd long imagined Santana would.

As she turned back towards her dinner plate, assuredly red-faced, she couldn't help but wonder what that might mean. Santana's free hand playing with her hair might have put an indefinite delay on those thoughts.

~7:20pm  

Rachel wasn't sure how it happened, but she wasn't about to complain when the karaoke machine got hauled out and set up. It turned out that a good number of people among the cast and crew had participated in their own high school glee clubs over the years, or various signing competitions; the more people talked about it, the faster an improv game got set up.

Everyone had to hand in a list of songs they'd performed once upon a time, even if just a partial one. Then, one by one, they'd have to perform a song, selected by others supposedly at random, without the aid of the karaoke machine's lyric prompter.

Which was hardly an issue for Rachel, having long since memorized the words to all the songs she 'd performed. The lyrics were hardly the issue.

The issue was Mister Schue's Journey obsession haunting long past high school, the band song 'Faithfully' having been chosen for her. Her turn to go up, Rachel planted a kiss to her mock-girlfriend's cheek and made her way up to the makeshift stage, hoping that Santana wouldn't have anything to criticize this time around, as she had with the others. It'd been sort of fun to listen to San mutter about pitchiness, or cringe when someone went flat, but it wouldn't feel good to have that same critical eye cast on her own performance.

Rachel waited through the familiar piano intro, counting down in her head to her cue, nerves fading away as that familiar joy of performing flooded her body. "Highway run, into the midnight sun..." She started up as she caught Santana's gaze, thankful her voice didn't crack or falter when she noticed how soft and warm those deep brown eyes were this time around.

She was midway through the second verse when she noticed a blonde, maybe someone from lighting, approach Santana, catching her roommate's attention when the woman rested a hand on her arm. It didn't take a genius to interpret the dark eyes and arrogant smile, nor the suggestive body language; it had Rachel fuming as she sang, for the gall of someone hitting on her girlfriend. For taking Santana's attention from her.

Santana slapping away the woman's hand, shooting her what Rachel hoped was a snarky and dismissive retort, nearly startled her on the stage. The blonde, after all, was practically a mix of Quinn and Brittany; how could she, Rachel Barbra Berry, possibly compete?

And yet, Santana's eyes were back on her for the end of the verse. "Oh, girl, you stand by me...I'm forever yours, faithfully..." She sang, shooting Santana a bright smile, heart blooming when it was swiftly returned.

The blonde, however, was persistent, stepping between her and Santana, blocking San's view of her as the woman made another attempt. She could tell Santana was gesturing in spots, but throughout the entire third verse she was blind to whatever was happening. When that stretched into the fourth, she couldn't help but worry, especially when she spotted the woman trail a hand down Santana's arm.

She was just taking a quick breath when she spotted the blonde stumble backwards a bit, having clearly been shoved. Fire burning in Santana's eyes, her roommate made one last biting remark, judging by her facial expressions at least, before shoving past the blonde and moving closer to the stage, murder swirling in her eyes.

It was how fast that fury faded away, returning to that soft warmth that propelled Rachel forward, willing her body to finish the song off with every ounce of talent in her body, every shred of passion. Whatever had gone down, Santana had chosen her, and even if it was all fake, she would honour that.

As soon as she finished her last note, she was smiling and stepping off the stage, the sound of applause fading into the back of her mind as Santana closed the distance and immediately swept her up into a kiss, hands clutching at her, pulling her impossibly closer, as if willing their bodies to merge. It was all Rachel could do to keep up with the frenzied pace, which thankfully slowed the longer it ran on, letting her offer her own affection in caressing her roommate's cheek.

With each stroke of her thumb across San's glorious cheekbones, the pace slowed and eventually halted, Santana pulling away slightly and resting her forehead against Rachel's, her breathing a little laboured. "Sorry. Needed some sugar or Snix would have come out." Santana whispered with a sheepish smile, as if she could ever complain. Rachel was sure she had the goofiest smile stretching across her lips after that kiss, there was no reason for San to feel sheepish.

"Well, I appreciate you not mauling...Hillary? Heather? Hilde?" Rachel retorted, trying to recall the name of the blonde and feeling less certain about her guesses the more she went on.

"Trish, actually. Normally I'd cut a bitch and show her how it's done in Lima Heights Adjacent, but I know you'd want me to behave. Besides, she's wearing Steve Madden...as if she ever had a chance with me even if I wasn't dating you." Santana let out with a laugh and a roll of her eyes, as if a mere fashion brand could disqualify someone from San's dating pool. Though, really, she'd never claim to fully understand the inner workings of Santana's mind, so Rachel supposed it could be a potential deal-breaker.

For a moment, she wondered if that sort of pickiness would disqualify her, but if Santana took that much of an issue, she would have brought up her wardrobe sometime or another. Rachel nodded to herself and ushered Santana off into the crowd as another of the group went up to perform.

~9:45pm

The rest of the karaoke had gone well enough. Santana had been reluctant to sing, not wanting to draw attention away from Rachel, but aside from that minor quibble, it had been a great start to the evening's festivities. By the end of it, she was feeling energized, and was truly looking forward to working alongside all the talent in the production.

As it neared ten o'clock, everyone shuffled down to the waterfront, Curtis and his partner having set up something 'special' for everyone. A surprise that Rachel had managed to weasel out of him an hour earlier, so while most went up by the water, Rachel tugged at Santana's hand and had them hang back with a few of the others who seemed to have the same idea of finding a comfy spot to relax.

Santana shot her a confused glance, but settled in beside her on a soft patch of grass, resting her half-finished cooler on a flat rock nearby. "Why are we hanging out all the way back here?"

"Less of a crowd, a clearer view, and we won't get all sandy." Rachel stated simply, lifting a hand as an idea came to mind. "Be right back."

Quickly, knowing the surprise would be unveiled soon, she rushed back towards the cottage and grabbed a spare hoodie from her luggage, and a blanket from the linen closet. By the time she made it back to Santana, Curtis was addressing the crowd, his voice not quite reaching where she and San were camped out.

Santana got up upon spotting the blanket, helping her lay it out for a comfier seating surface, but it was the warm smile when she offered San the hoodie that had her thinking this spectacle could be special. She'd heard the odd word here or there about Santana and some of her favourite things over the years. It was time to test that knowledge.

Santana pulled the hoodie over her head and immediately snuggled into her side as she plopped down, body thrumming with anticipation, hoping she remembered right.

Rachel knew she wasn't the most inconspicuous person, but still, she tried to keep her eyes more on Santana than anything. When the sound of the first bit of fireworks taking off into the sky met her ears, she turned her head ever so slightly and watched as Santana's jaw dropped, body tensing for one moment, two, before a giddy laugh escaped. At the popping and fizzing off in the distance, Rachel could have sworn that whatever fireworks had been unleashed, they couldn't possibly be as dazzling as Santana's smile, and the pure joy the raven-haired beauty exuded.

Santana had always been beautiful, intimidatingly so, but in that moment, all she could think of was how mesmeric the girl was when she was carefree and open like this, all adorable and smiling and bright-eyed. Any connection her brain had over her body, all rational thought, it was all cut off as she tilted Santana's face away from the spectacle and angled up into her lips.

It wasn't anything Santana seemed to expect, lips unmoving against her own for a few moments, but then just as she started to panic, Santana rolled Rachel on top of her and slung a leg over her hip, both arms wrapped tightly around her.

She let out a moan as Santana bit her lower lip, soothing it with a swipe of the tongue before reeling her back in for another dizzying kiss, the fireworks in the background not nearly dramatic enough to properly convey the thunder of her heartbeat, the lightning coursing through her veins, the storm of desire and passion coursing through her mind.

"Jeez, they're really going at it..." The sound of Ian's voice just barely filtered into Rachel's consciousness, but when it fully processed, Rachel jolted backward, sitting on her heels, Santana still clinging on for a few seconds before letting herself drop, a big goofy smile stretched across her face.

"Dios mio, babe, not complaining but what the hell was that?" Santana asked breathlessly, looking up at her with awe and confusion, and it felt like being stabbed. Even through a kiss like that, where Rachel had utterly lost herself within, Santana could compartmentalize and react in the role of her fake girlfriend without a flicker of hesitation or a slip in her mask.

I'm far too invested now...I can't...I can't keep doing this...I can't keep kissing her...I can't believe I've failed an acting exercise, either. Well, I suppose I'll just have to keep some distance, and...and hope my heart doesn't break too much in the process... Rachel mused worriedly, knowing that any abrupt change could draw suspicion or question from her roommate. She'd have to be extra careful in pulling away. There was a lot of night left, but thankfully a lot left to do. Rachel was certain she could make it work.

"I heard Vanessa talking about how there wasn't any passion between us. So...well...you understand." Rachel lied, voice shaking like a leaf, but Santana didn't seem to notice.

There was a flicker of something she couldn't quite catch across her roommate's face, but that smile was back, just not reaching her eyes quite so much. Rachel wasn't concerned, she understood the emotional labor in faking a true smile could take a heavy toll. "Yeah, sure. Well, lemme enjoy the fireworks, tiny."

At that, Santana pushed her to the side and cuddled back into her, head angled up at the sky once more to take in the glittery display. It was an easier position, a less actively affectionate one at that, but it was a step in the right direction.

Rachel hoped it'd keep heading in that direction so that maybe, just maybe, she could survive her mistake.

~11:30pm

The fireworks display had lasted much longer than Rachel imagined it would have, and had her wondering exactly how wealthy Curtis and/or his partner were to afford such a show. Still, she wouldn't complain because it really was rather pretty, and it ate up a good chunk of the night. By the time they all made their way back inside, it was after eleven.

Immediately, she'd headed to their room to change and freshen up, knowing it'd be a legitimate time waster, and that Santana would have to do the same after her.  She wasn't wrong in that, and while Santana was doing her thing, Rachel made her way to whatever group of relatively unfamiliar cast or crew she could find, deciding that the premise of getting to know her peers better would be a good enough excuse to shift focus away from Santana.

Also, given her small stature, a group setting could hide her from sight, somewhat, which was effective for a while, Rachel occasionally spotting Santana wandering around the party, looking for her. Rachel was just finishing up with her third group of unknown peers when a taller man who apparently designed sets left to grab drinks, leaving her momentarily exposed.

It took Santana all of three seconds to spot her.

Rachel swallowed her worries right before swallowing the last of her single allotted glass of wine, readying herself for whatever onslaught would befall her.

"Hey, babe. Making the rounds, winning favor from the masses?" Santana asked with a sly grin, apparently not at all bothered by her disappearing act.

"Yeah, I know I'm bad with remembering, but I think if I spend enough time around them and engage with them enough, I might be able to recall their names in the coming weeks...maybe." Rachel explained, hoping her logic would hold under scrutiny.

Thankfully, Santana just nodded along. "Well, I'm happy you're giving it a shot. Gotta believe some of them will find room up there in amongst the Broadway lore and lyrics." Santana noted, lifting a hand to cup Rachel's cheek, her thumb smoothing over her cheek once, twice. "This kind of thing's definitely more your speed than the shitty high school parties back in Lima. I knew you'd fit in over here. This is your world."

It wasn't that Rachel didn't appreciate Santana's words, or the faith embedded within them. No, those words had her heart feeling full, had her head leaning into San's touch. They were just far too dangerous for her to withstand, so she gently took hold of that hand and made a show of kissing it. "Thank you for your confidence, Santana."

Santana opened her mouth to respond, but whatever words she was considering speaking died as the song on the sound system changed to one Rachel knew all too well. It was slow, and smooth, and wonderfully melodic, and just the kind of song she could fantasize about slow dancing to.

"Hey, dance with me?" Santana asked, apparently reading her mind and trying to make one of those fantasies a reality.

Too dangerous. Much too dangerous.

"I'm...I'm not sure, Santana." Rachel let out with her best apologetic smile.

Santana was rightfully gobsmacked, both of them knowing quite well that she loved to dance. "But...'There You'll Be' was your shower song for like, half of January."

"I really do need to get back to socializing, Santana." She argued weakly, not able to will herself to lie any better than that, not with Santana staring at her like she'd just punched her in the gut.

"It's just one dance. You can't spare me four minutes?" Santana pressed, a strange glimmer in her eyes that Rachel immediately ignored. There was no room for going soft, not when it could ruin everything.

"I'm sorry, San. Look, I have to go. I'll catch up later." Rachel rushed out, turning on her and marching off before her fake girlfriend could get a word out. She almost expected a hand to take her arm and spin her around, but she made it to the next new group safely, hastily introducing herself again.

Rachel gave a glance back in the direction she came, noticing Santana hadn't moved from where she'd left her, though the raven-haired beauty was staring out of the windows nearby. As conversation flowed around her, she did her best to keep up, adding the odd word or answer when needed, the sight of Ian approaching Santana stealing the majority of her attention span. The casting director was smiling and gestured off to the impromptu dance floor, and she could literally see Santana consider the man's offer before shaking her head, San marching off towards the bar, her gait doing nothing to hide her clear and present anger.

Rachel checked her phone for the time and saw they likely had at least two more hours to go. Two hours for things to get worse.

~1:00am

Rachel felt nearly consumed by guilt by the time one o'clock rolled around. She'd turned down three more dances from Santana, and cut short two of her roommate's attempted conversations with her. Every moment in tight quarters with Santana brought about urges to just pull her close and kiss her senseless, among other more vulgar urges, and it was not appropriate. Not when she felt real feelings, and Santana was just acting.

Sure, she had no doubt that San was pissed at her for basically hanging her out to dry alone all night long, but Santana was an adult woman, she could survive a social setting on her own just fine. Still, at this point, she expected the night would end with some level of anger.

It was that thought that had Rachel bracing for Snixx when she found herself dragged out of a group conversation with some of the understudies and marketing folks.

Except, when she stole a glance at the hand pulling her through the living room and through the kitchen, it became clear that it definitely wasn't Santana's. The dirty blonde bob and the purple top gave away that it was Tori.

Tori, who seemed to like her well enough. She followed the woman through the cottage and into the pantry, Tori closing the door behind them and leaning up against it. "Want to tell me what's going on?"

Rachel felt like a deer in the headlights, not only for being singled out by someone who was angry for unknown reasons, but because she also had no idea what the woman was referring to. "Can...you be more specific?"

"You and Santana. What did you do?" Tori pressed, eyebrows rising in expectation, and all Rachel could do was gulp. She'd only ever been exposed to sweet, bubbly Tori, but the woman before her was deadly serious. It didn't bode well.

"How...how do you know I did something?"  Rachel asked, lifting her chin in a show of defiance, which only brought a hard laugh from her co-star.

"I've seen my fair share of heartbreak, Rachel. Whatever you did to Santana, she's trying to find a bottle with something at the bottom that'll help her escape it." Tori stated firmly, holding up a hand when Rachel went to argue her words. "No. She's a fucking mess right now. Keeps shifting from furious to weepy and over the past hour, it's mostly been weepy. And you...you've been nowhere to be found!"

Rachel closed her eyes and let her guilt ascend to peak levels as she took a steadying breath. "You wouldn't understand. It's complicated."

"Except it's not. She loves you. You keep rejecting her...all after you two were cozy as hell most of the day. So what'd you do?" Tori pushed again, stepping away from the door and into Rachel's personal space. "You tell me what you've done to that sweet sunflower out there. I'm dating the casting director, you have no idea what I'm capable of."

Rachel couldn't fully stifle her laughter at Santana being referred to as a 'sweet sunflower', but she quickly found her ability to speak when Tori gave her a shove. "I kissed her! I...I kissed her, Tori."

Now, to her, those words made complete sense. But Tori, lacking context, just stared at her as if she had two heads. "She's your girlfriend. Of course you kissed her. Look, if you don't..."

"No, you don't get...look, I lied. I lied! At my casting interview, I lied, and I said I was dating a lesbian, and I wasn't dating a lesbian, I've never actually dated a woman, but I said it to get an edge, and I knew that summer productions rarely ever cast non-seniors, so I thought the risk was worth it, but then I got the part, and I didn't know any lesbians to date, and so I asked my roommate, and she agreed after we set conditions, so...so it's all an act." Rachel blurted out, gasping for air after letting everything out in two breaths, her body slumping down to the floor against the wine refrigerator.

"We're fake dating, and she initiated basically everything like that, but then she was so beautiful and adorable staring up at the fireworks that I just...I couldn't help but kiss her." Rachel continued, allowing herself a huff at how naive she'd been to think she could make it work. "I've liked Santana for a long time, and I thought I could compartmentalize, but I can't. I'm compromised, and I can't keep this going when my heart's in it and Santana's just acting. It's not fair to either of us, and...and she's my best friend, and I can't lose her. I can't."

Rachel wiped her brimming tears away, startling a little when Tori sat down right beside her. "Hell of a story there, kiddo. Doesn't pass the eye test, though."

"Wh...what?" Rachel let out, staring at Tori with more than a little disbelief, because she just laid out the context, all of the acts. There wasn't room for interpretation.

"I think you forget a lot of us are actors...we can see stage smiles and artificial intimacy a mile away. That's why we all bought into you and Santana...everything's legit. Sure, maybe some word selection's a bit sappier than natural, but a lot of folks like making a good first impression, so I shrugged that off. But I'm telling you...what I saw was real. I saw that you were seriously into her, and that she was seriously into you." Tori explained, challenging what Rachel knew to be true.

She could respect her co-star's efforts, but she was off the mark. "Santana's a very skilled actress, Tori. I'm sad to say you're mistaken."

"So when Ian startled her and saw she was crying after you practically ran away from her? When she said it wasn't about dancing when he offered to dance with her?" Tori asked, practically crushing Rachel's heart in a vise by informing her she'd made Santana cry. "All day long she held and kissed you like she was comfortable with you, like you were made of crystal and were precious to her...but when you kissed her? She froze. And then she...fuck, Rachel. I haven't seen yearning like that in years. And funny thing..."

Rachel waited for more words, but Tori seemed happy to let them trail off, expecting Rachel to pitch in. "What? I'm not exactly in the mood for humour, Tori."

"Well, I just couldn't help but laugh when Santana told me you kissed her because Vanessa said you two lacked passion? When Vanessa's had a stick up her ass because you two click and she's been single for two years? Yeah, not the best lie, Rachel." Tori explained, forcing a blush to Rachel's face over being caught in another lie.

"It's not like I could have just told her I kissed her because I wanted to. Because I...I love her. I couldn't." Rachel argued, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"Why not? You're into her, she's very much into you. She's been having a great time playing as your girlfriend, and you've been unraveled enough by that to where you can't hold yourself back. So don't. I promise you have less to lose by going after her than by keeping this shit up and ruining your friendship by toying with her." Tori stated with more warmth than Rachel felt she deserved. "Look, you don't want to fake date her, I get that. So date her. Find her, get down on your knees and beg her forgiveness, and maybe she'll let you do some fun things down there for her in the future."

Rachel bit her lip at the immediate watering of her mouth from the thought of giving oral to Santana. She shook the fantasy free from her head, but Tori was making a semblance of sense. Fake dating wasn't working, but it didn't mean real dating couldn't. If Tori was wrong, it could be a catastrophe, but if she was right? It could be so much of what she'd dreamed of.

"Do you really think I have a chance?" Rachel asked meekly, staring up at Tori in hopes for some firm clarity.

"Girl, she adores you. You shit all over her tonight, but I think if you say and do the right things, she'll come around." Tori asserted with a smile, enough of a confidence boost to get Rachel to her feet. "Last I saw, she rushed off in tears and went upstairs, probably to the bathroom."

"Thank you, Tori. I won't forget this." Rachel noted with a smile of her own before rushing out of the pantry, a goal set firmly in her mind.

All she had to do was find Santana.

~1:30am

The search for Santana took Rachel upstairs, through their room, and then the other rooms, and then the two bathrooms up there, before she decided Santana had to be somewhere other than upstairs. Downstairs was pretty much all a designated party zone, but even with the masses, she didn't spot Santana during her search.

And so she ventured outside after grabbing her jacket, scouring the patio and eventually making her way down towards the water. It was when she was about halfway down the descent towards the sandy shore that she heard it.

Santana's little squeaky whimpers had always done terrible things to her heart, and like sonar, led her through the dark moonless night to a familiar spot. Why would she come here? Why didn't she take a blanket? It's a little chilly out here...

"Santana?" She called out quietly, the dark silhouette ahead of her shifting to turn away from her. Rachel didn't let the pain in her heart halt her steps, quickly closing the distance to where San was sitting in what appeared to be the hoodie she'd given her during the fireworks.

From up close, she could tell a few things. Santana was openly weeping, she reeked of alcohol, and she was soaking wet. "Oh my god, San, you're soaked to the bone! What happened?"

Rachel reached for San, but had her hand clumsily swatted away. "Go 'way! Go mingle. Just...go."

If not for the defeated, absurdly woeful tone that final 'go' was spoken in, Rachel probably would have left. She wouldn't leave Santana to cry her eyes out alone, though. Santana had been there for her in the past, it was time she was there for San.

"I...Santana, I was wrong to push you away tonight. I let an idea fester in my mind, and it hurt too much to bear, and I dealt with it the worst way possible, by letting you bear its burden when you had no idea what was going on. I hurt you, and I disappointed you, and for that, I'm not sure there's a word for how sorry I am, and how much I want to make it right." Rachel rambled, hoping Santana was listening, knowing that her roommate could full-out reject her apology and it would be fair.

Santana was quiet for nearly a minute, just shivering there, letting out the occasional squeaky whimper. If anything, she needed to make sure Santana was comfortable again. "Here, take my jacket, you're freezing."

"Wet. Won't help." Santana mumbled before glancing her way, eyes shiny and glassy even in the dim light. "Did I mess up?"

Rachel fought for words, mouth opening and closing as she tried to figure out what to say, which only brought Santana into another crying fit. "Oh, San, no...no you were perfect. You were so perfect. I was wrong."

"You?" Santana blubbered, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe that could be true.

"I...I literally just told you." Rachel let out  with an exasperated sigh, not sure where she'd lost her roommate.

"You were talkin' fast and I couldn't keep up." Santana cried, throwing her head back with a sob. "Oh god, I'm as bad as Finn!"

Rachel stifled a surprised laugh and sat down beside the weeping woman. "You're not, you always listen. You're just drunk, San. It's okay."

Santana seemed relieved at that, nodding quickly at the reassurance, even if she fixed those sad eyes on Rachel. "So why are you mad at me?"

Deciding to take a risk, Rachel took hold of Santana's hand and kissed it, prompting a sob from the beauty beside her. "I'm not mad at you. I...I made a mistake by asking you to fake date me, Santana. I'll still abide by your conditions, don't worry, but...well..."

"Spit it out, Rach, I can take it." Santana let out sadly, as if Rachel was about to verbally eviscerate her with a rejection. As if she could ever do that.

Rachel pushed through all of her fears and met Santana's gaze, speaking slowly so the girl could keep up. "San, I've had feelings for you for well over a year, now. I thought I could keep them in check, but I couldn't, and...and I didn't kiss you because of anything Vanessa said. I kissed you because I wanted to, because you're so beautiful, and there was nothing else I could do but kiss you and breathe you in and...and...and that scared me."

As she spoke, Santana's blubbering grew in volume, punctuated with a hard sob seconds after Rachel finished, San shoving hard against her shoulder. "You like like me?" Santana mumbled as she tried to wipe away her uncontrollable tears. "What the fuck, Rach?"

"I know, I know. I was horrible to you. I pushed you away. I lied to you. I...I refused you, when all I wanted was to hold you close. I was scared it was all acting for you. And...and if it is, then I understand, and my apology remains the same. I can only hope you'll forgive me one day." Rachel clarified, trying to keep her rambling slow enough for Santana's drunken mind to keep up with.

"So...but...did you wanna dance with me or not?" Santana asked, completely avoiding providing Rachel an answer on whether her feelings were reciprocated, but she supposed that was fair game.

Rachel took a deep breath and put a fantasy of hers to words. "I would prefer to have it back home, just the two of us, candles lit and music playing from your iPod dock, with a comfy couch or a soft bed to retire to afterward. I'd dance with you for hours, Santana, for as long as you wanted. I'd want us both sober enough to remember it."

"Not tonight, then?" Santana frowned, body sinking forward in disappointment.

"If you come back to our room and let me dry you off, I'll be more than happy to give you a dance if you're up for one, San. Please." Rachel asked, giving San's hand a gentle squeeze, prompting her roommate to wipe at her eyes again.

Still, Santana nodded, and that was enough to swiftly get San to her feet, holding her close as they made their way back to the cottage. Thankfully, the stairwell was right by the back entrance, so they made it upstairs undisturbed.

As predicted, the nearly the entire bathroom floor was covered in water. "San, what happened in here?"

Thankfully, Santana's weepy fit had subsided a little, even if it not entirely. "I was gonna sober up with a shower an' drive away, but the water was too cold and the stupid fuckin' faucet's some weird old-school hippie shit and I couldn't make it warm. An' then I might've hit the showerhead and it might've sprayed 'cross the floor."

For what it was worth, despite the tears, Santana looked equal parts guilty and annoyed, and she couldn't blame her. It had taken her five minutes of intense sober thought the previous evening to figure out how it worked, so a drunk, blubbery Santana who just wanted to shower and leave? Not a chance.

Rachel grabbed two of the fluffiest towels and turned to face Santana. "Can I please dry you off?"

"I'm not an infant, I can do it." Santana shot back, wiping away more tears and fixing her with a frown.

"After everything I did, I just want to take care of you, Santana." Rachel pleaded, second by agonizing second ticking by before Santana gave a slow, wary nod. "Thank you."

She got to work carefully, not worrying about time at all as she gently removed Santana's hoodie and then, with a steadying breath, unzipped the woman's dress. From there, even drunk, Santana took her own bra off, leaving her mostly nude.

Rachel took care in patting Santana dry, stilling in place just as she finished her roommate's left side. Taking a bit of courage from her emergency stores, Rachel pressed a chaste kiss to Santana's bare shoulder, and then continued onward. And that became the pattern; dry, then kiss the area, knowing that it was her fault Santana had been wet in the first place, her fault San had been so upset and drunk.

When she made her way up to Santana's hair to finish, she could see the tension in San's body, almost as if the woman had sobered up. She knew San's hair wouldn't get dry any time soon without heat treatment, so she got it as dry as she could before hanging the towels back up again and grabbing the fluffy bath robe she'd brought with her.

When she turned around, Santana was suddenly right there, in her space, looking at her with such sad, expectant eyes. Rachel decided to read into that, knowing she could be making a mistake.

"I'm sober and you're drunk, Santana. All I can give is a chaste...a very chaste kiss. I would like to, though..." Rachel stumbled out, taking heart when Santana just nodded unblinkingly at her. She lifted a hand to wipe the residual tears away, happy Santana was barely crying anymore. "I am so sorry I hurt you, baby."

With that, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to Santana's, reveling in their softness, in that gentle, languid pressure San met her with. It was more than she deserved, and she pulled away faster than maybe either of them would have liked, judging by the fresh tears brimming in San's eyes when she braved a glance at her roommate.

As swiftly as she could, she got Santana into the robe and led her back into the bedroom, reaching the bed just as Santana's body started to shake again, her roommate halfway collapsing onto it. "You...you don't want me?"

Rachel shook her head, which was probably the worst thing to do given how hard Santana sobbed at the gesture. "Oh baby, I want you. I want to date you for real. I want to be able to call you my girlfriend, and go to bed together, and turn your area into a practice and workout space. I want to hold your hand and kiss you in public. I want nothing more outside of winning my EGOT."

"Really?" Santana asked quietly, as if asking the question too loudly would make Rachel go back on her words.

"Really." Rachel answered, brushing hair out of Santana's face as she got the both of them settled onto the bed, where at least they could be comfy. "There's nothing fake about how I feel for you."

Santana actually smiled at that, even if she leaned forward and hid her face in Rachel's neck. "I was so mad at you. I prob'ly won't remember this in the morning. Might be mean to you when I wake up."

"I'll happily weather that storm, Santana. You're always worth it. Always." Rachel murmured, arms wrapping around her roommate, lips pressing a kiss to San's head. "Now, are you okay here while I go and clean up the bathroom?"

Santana nodded against her neck and wiggled out of her embrace. "Yeah, should prob'ly get on that, babe."

The return of Santana's term of endearment for her was too heartwarming not to smile at, giving her a renewed sense of purpose as she quickly returned to the bathroom to clean up the mess from earlier. Even though she needed sober Santana's opinion instead of drunk Santana's, she was happy that her trial run had gone well, and could only hope that come the morning, she could have one just as good, if she was lucky.

It only took maybe five minutes to clean up, but when she made it back out to the bedroom, Santana was fast asleep. There was still plenty of life left in the party downstairs, but she no longer had an appetite for it, deciding to just do a fraction of her usual routine before settling in with San for the night.

She was careful upon her return, all clean and changed and ready for bed, sneaking in the other side of the bed, not presuming that she'd be welcome on Santana's side. It only took a few minor pokes and prods to get her roommate under the sheets on the other side, and soon enough, all the events and exhaustion of the day caught up to her in a flash, and she was out.

Rachel woke to the feeling of the wind getting knocked out of her, followed by a pillow to the face. Her first instinct was to roll away, but something was trapping her hips, so she just covered her face. "Not the nose!"

The annoyed huff above her had Rachel peeking through the slits of her fingers at her assailant, predictably one Santana Lopez.

"You fucking asshole." Santana grumbled, coming down at her head again with the pillow. "You totally ditched me last night!" Her roommate continued, sending yet another strike Rachel's way. "You wouldn't even dance with me!"

"I'm so sorry, Santana, please let me explain!" She pleaded from behind the safety of her arms, defending from yet another pillow attack.

"Oh, I remember what you told me." Santana stated plainly, the words surprising Rachel enough that she accidentally dropped her guard.

And ate a pillow to the face for her mistake.

"That's for lying to me." Santana growled, thwapping Rachel another time with her improvised weapon. "And that's for not telling me how you fucking feel! We could have been legit dating for months now if you got your head out of your ass!"

Now, Rachel could entertain an ocean's-worth of guilt for the previous night, but not for the past months. "Now hold on just a second, Santana. You weren't entitled to knowing how I felt before my misguided fake dating scheme."

"Hello? Lesbian?" Santana asked sarcastically, gesturing to herself in disbelief. "You knew I'm a lady lover. Get your head in the fucking game, Rachel. You know I could be into you. I didn't have that luxury."

"I've never openly stated my sexuality, Santana..." Rachel began earning a laugh from the woman atop her.

"Please. You've only dated guys. Around me, at least, you've only ever gone on about how attractive guys were. I've never heard anything but innocent compliments about women from you. If I smelled even a hint that you were bi, I would have taken a shot a long time ago. As people constantly remind me, most people are straight, so unless there's some evidence to the freaking contrary, I don't jump through hoops and risk rejection when I don't think I have a good shot, not since Britt." Santana argued, and perhaps she could see her point, even if just a little.

"I suppose I understand where you're coming from. If...if I must repeat myself, I'm deeply sorry for what I did, Santana. I'm so sorry for hurting you, and for rejecting you when all i wanted was to be with you for real." Rachel asserted fervently, meeting Santana's gaze, wanting her roommate to know how sincere she was.

Santana held her gaze for a few long seconds before the girl toppled off to Rachel's side, meeting the mattress with a loud thump. "You actually really want to date me? For real?"

Rachel nodded at San. "More than anything aside from getting my EGOT."

"You have always been pretty career-focused. Think you can make time in your busy schedule for me?"  Santana asked, and Rachel couldn't quite be sure based on her tone whether San was being playful or asking a sincere question.

"Always. I always have room for you in my life." Rachel stated firmly, reaching out and taking hold of Santana's hand much like she had the previous night.

Rachel watched Santana's teeth gnaw away at that lower lip of hers, soft eyes shooting her a hesitantly hopeful look. "And you'll give me that slow dance?"

The breath caught in her throat at Santana's insistence on that dance, but she'd never have the heart to deny her something like that. "I'd dance with you whenever you wanted, baby."

The pet name escaped her without thought, and Rachel couldn't remember how to breathe as she watched Santana respond, first in surprise, only relaxing when her bedmate let out a shy smile. "Then, okay, yeah." Santana spoke softly, tugging at Rachel a little. It only took a split second to nestle up against her best friend and wrap her arms around the woman she'd crushed on for ages. "And maybe...maybe I really wanted to get that slow dance, because I was gonna tell you the fake dating shit was dumb at the end of it, and wanted to get something good in, in case it all went to hell. I was kind of hoping you'd be into the real thing, so it's good we were on the same wavelength or whatever."

Rachel laughed at her luck, even if she couldn't help but wish she'd given Santana that dance. It would have made for a much nicer, less dramatic night, that was for sure.

But then, they were both rather dramatic, so perhaps it just fit.

"So you will be my girlfriend?" Rachel asked with a smile, feeling so hopeful about their future, knowig that they could make it. They could last.

"Call me baby again and maybe, yeah." Santana noted, turning her head away, teeth finding her lip once more.

Rachel could only beam at the response, letting an age-old song run through her. "Be my little baby, say you'll be my darlin', be my baby now..." Rachel sang earning a blind shove from Santana, who broke into laughter.

"God, you're such a fucking weirdo." Santana added as her laughter settled down, hand lifting to wipe a tear away. "But yeah. I'd really like that."

Rachel felt a warmth inside of her that she hadn't felt in so long, but she knew what to do with it now. She was older, wiser, and would be dating someone who she knew as well as Santana knew her. This wouldn't be a short term fling, it wouldn't be a brief affair, it'd last.

Finger snaps broke Rachel from her hazy thoughts, quickly realizing Santana was practically nose to nose with her now. "So what's the hold-up with the good morning kiss, babe? Slacking on your girlfriend-ly duties on our first day?"

Rachel just laughed and pulled Santana into a kiss she hoped expressed just how much faith she had in the both of them, and just how much love she had for the raven-haired beauty sharing the bed with her.

Fake dating to real dating in a day's time. Not quite the path she thought she'd take, but mission accomplished nevertheless.