fic: here i go again
Title: Here I Go Again
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Santana/Rachel
Spoilers: Guilty Pleasures
Summary: Santana's tired of Rachel's moping.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, they'd probably go at it like bunnies.
A/N: I have no excuse for this really except, I had a lot of feelings after last night's episode.
Working in a bar gives Santana really weird hours, but she’s slowly starting to get used it. It really means that she was off randomly on Mondays and Tuesdays, you know, the normal nights where there is fuck all to do because it’s the beginning of the week and who wants to hang out at a bar when you work at a bar? Not her. She’s finding she’s too tired to even consider doing it by the time she stumbles in at the wee hours of Monday morning and collapses on the bed she managed to buy the week before because tips at CU are bangin’ just like she’d thought they would be.
It also means that she and Rachel share a day off on Tuesdays and she was certain that Rachel would completely ruin her time for relaxation by being, well, Rachel, but so far that hasn’t been the case. If anything, it’s nice to have the company and she’s not forced to watch a bunch of shows she doesn’t really like but humors Kurt for because he’s actually been playing nice and not making as much noise as he possibly can like he used to when she’s trying to sleep off a ten-hour shift when he has class. She is, however, really obsessed with The Facts of Life and Lady Hummel is all to blame for that. She’s almost through half of the episodes he dvr’d and thinks he’s crazy if he believes Jo and Blair aren’t up there in that room when Natalie and Tootie are off helping Mrs. Garrett going at it like the lesbian fantasy of a teenage boy.
Hello, she’s been there. She was that fantasy in high school.
Rachel’s beside her, practically folded in on herself. She’s moping again and Santana’s been trying to ignore it because Rachel’s reasoning for being all Lifetime Movie pathetic is over some guy that wasn’t even hot enough for her. And Santana’s all out of “told you so’s” because that’s getting redundant even to her and Kurt’s been trying to teach her “impulse control,” whatever the fuck that means.
Anyway, Jo and Blair are going at it again and it’s fucking hysterical in a way, but Rachel just sighs when she laughs. And yeah, Santana’s really over this pity party table for one. She pauses the episode and turns to Rachel. She reaches across and pats the knee Rachel has bent beneath her blanket and musters up her sweetest smile. “Okay, time for some more tough love, Berry. You’re weepy, sad clown face is starting to bear a striking resemblance to Grumpy Cat and that’s just not okay. Last night I actually had a bad dream that you expected me to change your litterbox.” Santana shudders at just the idea of that and ignores the roll of Rachel’s eyes.
“I’m not weepy.” Rachel’s defensive, but it’s in a way that lets Santana know that she knows she’s lying, not that she needs to be told that even a little bit.
“Oh no? Then what do you call it? You told me and Kurt that you were getting over two-buck Ken, but that was a week ago. I’m waiting to see this big talk put to action.”
Rachel flips onto her side, dislodging Santana’s hand and stares forward to the television. “Not that I expect you to actually understand this, but sometimes it takes more than four nights of binge drinking to get past your feelings.”
It’s a dig, but Santana’s not going to take the bait. But Rachel better watch it because Santana can only keep Snixx at bay for so long. “I’m not suggesting that it’s easy, but Christ Rachel, you can’t get hung up on every guy you date. If you’re going to be that clingy, which gotta say the most disgusting thing you could ever do outside of that lump of an ex-boyfriend of yours, then no one will ever date you again.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Rachel mumbles under her breath, throwing herself against the cushions of the couch as if she’s trying to get comfortable.
“And why would that be a good thing?” See? Santana’s capable of being a good friend. Two years ago, she’d have never asked that question. She would’ve simply agreed, threw in a witty little barb and walked away. This was progress.
“Don’t worry about it, Santana. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She isn’t sure if it’s that Rachel believe she’s actually interested or just really wants to get it off of her chest, but she sort of exhales slowly. She doesn’t turn towards Santana, she just tucks her arm under her head and keeps looking straight ahead.
“It’s not that I’m not over Brody. It’s just...what’s the point? You’re always telling me Finn isn’t good enough for me. Jesse wasn’t good enough. Brody wasn’t...what is in me that makes me settle for less than the best? I’ve never done that in any other aspect of my life, but I keep attracting these guys. And...I don’t want to be alone forever. Brody was supposed to be my fresh start, you know?” She’s looking at Santana with those big, sad brown eyes and there’s a panic that bubbles up in her chest. She thinks it has something to do with the fact that she just wants to wrap her arms around Rachel and hold her. She wants to tell her that there are people in this world that will accept her and cherish her and prove to her that she deserves more than she’s allowing, but she can’t do that. The impulse to even want to do it is already foreign enough, but she can’t make heads or tails of her feelings around Rachel lately.
So she can’t just do that. At least not yet.
And she gets wanting a fresh start. New York seems to be that for all of them. The survivors of Lima, Ohio, refugees in their loft in Brooklyn. This is supposed to be their freedom from the demons that haunt them. And it’s strange that on the other side of the war that is high school, she ended up allies with Kurt and Rachel, but there’s gotta be a reason for that, she’s starting to think. There’s gotta be a reason that Quinn’s off on her own and Brittany’s been left behind and she’s here in this moment. Psychic or not, she gets that. Rachel used to know that too. Rachel was already a survivor. She wants to know what the fuck happened. This can’t be the same girl who took daily slushies to the face and kept smiling and singing like she was going to make something of herself.
“That’s the dumbest thing I think you’ve ever said to me. Seriously Rachel, I think my I.Q. just dropped like a hundred points.”
Rachel’s face contorts instantly and she curling back into herself. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
Santana’s on her feet then, throwing her girlfriend pillow on the couch. “No, I understand. I just think you’re being an idiot. Okay, why the hell do you have to be in any relationship at all? You’ve spent what, three years chasing Finn and that ended in such a disaster that you wanted to cling to a guy that probably would’ve given you some kind of weird, plastic STD.” They both make a face at that, but Santana shakes her head. “You know I’m right. You’re too good for this shit and you know you were too good for Brody otherwise you’d still be with him. You just have to stop letting yourself believe the bullshit. Rachel Berry from sophomore year that told us to get our shit together when we were hung up on boys and pregnancies and scandals would probably kick your ass right now. And I’d support that because this is just pathetic. High school is supposed to be the best four years of your life and if that’s true, then I want God to give me my money back. That place sucked for all of us.”
Rachel kind of laughs at that and sits up. Santana smiles down at her and ignores the way her heart skips a beat the moment their eyes catch. “I think the best time starts now and someone’s going to appreciate the crap out of you someday,” she says a little softer than she means to because it just make the moment pregnant with emotions she doesn’t want to share. She shakes her head and holds out her hand. “Come on. Get up and go and get dressed.”
“What? Why? I’m not really in the mood to go out.” Rachel’s protesting even as she stands from the couch. She doesn’t make a move, however, so they’re just kind of standing there holding hands.
Santana looks down at their joined hands and then back at the other girl. “I’m taking you out on a date. I’m can almost wager my last week’s pay that Gigolo Joe never took you on a real one of those.”
Rachel’s eying her skeptically, as if she’s trying to gauge is Santana’s being sincere. “And you’re going to take me on a real date? You?”
“Yeah? Why not? I’ve been on a few of them in my day. I know how they work. Besides it’s time you learn how to casually date without getting giant cartoon eyes with hearts in them anytime someone smiles and calls you pretty.” There’s an implication here that she had not idea what to do with. Santana’s not even completely sure what she’s playing at here, but she’s hoping Rachel will just play along because it’s suddenly really important to her to do this.
“Yes but I...” The words trail off and this look passes over Rachel’s face that Santana can’t read.
She drops Rachel’s hand and shrugs. “You wanted a fresh start and so did I. So, let’s go have one.”
Rachel’s face lights up in this way that makes Santana feel like she’s been kicked in the gut and she nods. “Yeah, okay.”
---
Brooklyn isn’t the most romantic place on face of the planet, but Santana’s actually not even sure she wants to be romantic. Only the fact that the thought is even crossing her mind makes her lean more towards yes than no, but whatever. She’s not going to have a freakout right now no matter what her mind is screaming. She can self-analyze later.
There’s this Indian place a few blocks from where they live and she’s not really one for ethnic foods that aren’t her own. But she’s heard Rachel and Kurt mention wanting to try it and she thinks “why not?” It proves to be a smart move because Rachel’s excited as soon as she figures out where they’re going. There’s a guy standing outside selling two-dollar roses and Santana buy three. Somewhere in her mind it’s to lament the three year it’s taken her to actually get to know Rachel willingly, but she just hands them over, mortified by her own inner cheesiness. Rachel calls her sweet and lifts the flowers to her nose and it’s really kind of adorable. So, Santana feels less lame.
As they walk in, Rachel sheds her coat and it garners her a few looks. Santana’s included. She didn’t get to see Rachel’s dress before they left because she was already in her coat, but if this is what Rachel Berry wears, this short, tight black skirt and low cut top that doesn’t even reveal that much, just gives a hint of rounded flesh, when she’s on a casual date then Santana’s not sure the men in New York are ready for Rachel, not the other way around. Santana’s mouth goes dry for a moment and the first thing she orders is a glass of water.
They make small talk over dinner and it starts to hit Santana that she actually cares about the shit Rachel says. In fact, since she’s moved there, the only thing that’s really annoyed her about Rachel was Brody. She doesn’t care when Rachel hogs the couch or when she practices her singing in the shower. She actually enjoys that shit, watching Rachel be in her natural habitat. And now that Brody’s gone, Rachel’s been a lot more fun, when she isn’t moping that is.
The walking around in tiny towels doesn’t exactly hurt either, but hey, she’s only human.
Dinner actually isn’t bad (She let Rachel order for her which should earn her mucho brownie points in the whatever they are department of their friendship/roommate situation) and Santana settles the check and stands. She even helps Rachel into her coat before leading the way out. She decides to take the long way back to the apartment and doesn’t protest when Rachel takes her hand. Rachel starts telling her about her upcoming showcase and how she’ll, no doubt, be missing for about three weeks because it’s a freshman showcase, but there’s only ten spots open so Rachel’s got to pick what song to audition with. It all sounds boring as hell, but Santana doesn’t mind it, listening to Rachel talk. She’s just silently realizing she’ll be missing Rachel being around and she’s been in this place before, with Brittany, but that’s a little heavy for her right now. So, she pushes the thoughts away.
There’s a moment of hesitation on both of their parts when they reach their building. Santana turns to Rachel and offers her a tiny smile because this is actually starting to feel like the end of a date. Rachel returns the smile and ducks her head a little in a way Santana’s only seen her do when she’s flirting with some guy. It makes her stomach flip and when deep brown eyes return to her face, Rachel’s cheeks are tinged pink.
“Thanks for the date, Santana. It was...probably the most fun I’ve had on a date in a while. It’s weird not to have the pressure of worrying about what to say or what my date is thinking. It was just...nice to get to do this with someone who let me be myself.” She does that half-nod thing Rachel does when she talks and steps closer. There’s a pause and Santana thinks she can hear her own heart pounding in her ears, then Rachel’s hugging her tightly.
Santana must be getting used to this because she’s hugging back almost immediately, running her hands over Rachel’s back and teasing the ends of her hair. It lingers, is longer than their usual hugs, but she doesn’t really mind that. It’s only when Rachel’s pulling back, her eyes flitting across Santana’s face before she leans up and brushes their lips together, that Santana realizes she isn’t actually breathing.
The kiss is barely that, but it clouds her brain and Rachel’s already heading into the building before Santana realizes she’s even moved. There’s this tiny smile on the other girl’s face as she gives Santana one last glance and heads inside. She lifts her fingers to her lips and tries to figure out what the hell just happened to her life in the last twenty seconds.
The only thing that seems to register is that she is totally screwed.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Santana/Rachel
Spoilers: Guilty Pleasures
Summary: Santana's tired of Rachel's moping.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, they'd probably go at it like bunnies.
A/N: I have no excuse for this really except, I had a lot of feelings after last night's episode.
Working in a bar gives Santana really weird hours, but she’s slowly starting to get used it. It really means that she was off randomly on Mondays and Tuesdays, you know, the normal nights where there is fuck all to do because it’s the beginning of the week and who wants to hang out at a bar when you work at a bar? Not her. She’s finding she’s too tired to even consider doing it by the time she stumbles in at the wee hours of Monday morning and collapses on the bed she managed to buy the week before because tips at CU are bangin’ just like she’d thought they would be.
It also means that she and Rachel share a day off on Tuesdays and she was certain that Rachel would completely ruin her time for relaxation by being, well, Rachel, but so far that hasn’t been the case. If anything, it’s nice to have the company and she’s not forced to watch a bunch of shows she doesn’t really like but humors Kurt for because he’s actually been playing nice and not making as much noise as he possibly can like he used to when she’s trying to sleep off a ten-hour shift when he has class. She is, however, really obsessed with The Facts of Life and Lady Hummel is all to blame for that. She’s almost through half of the episodes he dvr’d and thinks he’s crazy if he believes Jo and Blair aren’t up there in that room when Natalie and Tootie are off helping Mrs. Garrett going at it like the lesbian fantasy of a teenage boy.
Hello, she’s been there. She was that fantasy in high school.
Rachel’s beside her, practically folded in on herself. She’s moping again and Santana’s been trying to ignore it because Rachel’s reasoning for being all Lifetime Movie pathetic is over some guy that wasn’t even hot enough for her. And Santana’s all out of “told you so’s” because that’s getting redundant even to her and Kurt’s been trying to teach her “impulse control,” whatever the fuck that means.
Anyway, Jo and Blair are going at it again and it’s fucking hysterical in a way, but Rachel just sighs when she laughs. And yeah, Santana’s really over this pity party table for one. She pauses the episode and turns to Rachel. She reaches across and pats the knee Rachel has bent beneath her blanket and musters up her sweetest smile. “Okay, time for some more tough love, Berry. You’re weepy, sad clown face is starting to bear a striking resemblance to Grumpy Cat and that’s just not okay. Last night I actually had a bad dream that you expected me to change your litterbox.” Santana shudders at just the idea of that and ignores the roll of Rachel’s eyes.
“I’m not weepy.” Rachel’s defensive, but it’s in a way that lets Santana know that she knows she’s lying, not that she needs to be told that even a little bit.
“Oh no? Then what do you call it? You told me and Kurt that you were getting over two-buck Ken, but that was a week ago. I’m waiting to see this big talk put to action.”
Rachel flips onto her side, dislodging Santana’s hand and stares forward to the television. “Not that I expect you to actually understand this, but sometimes it takes more than four nights of binge drinking to get past your feelings.”
It’s a dig, but Santana’s not going to take the bait. But Rachel better watch it because Santana can only keep Snixx at bay for so long. “I’m not suggesting that it’s easy, but Christ Rachel, you can’t get hung up on every guy you date. If you’re going to be that clingy, which gotta say the most disgusting thing you could ever do outside of that lump of an ex-boyfriend of yours, then no one will ever date you again.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Rachel mumbles under her breath, throwing herself against the cushions of the couch as if she’s trying to get comfortable.
“And why would that be a good thing?” See? Santana’s capable of being a good friend. Two years ago, she’d have never asked that question. She would’ve simply agreed, threw in a witty little barb and walked away. This was progress.
“Don’t worry about it, Santana. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She isn’t sure if it’s that Rachel believe she’s actually interested or just really wants to get it off of her chest, but she sort of exhales slowly. She doesn’t turn towards Santana, she just tucks her arm under her head and keeps looking straight ahead.
“It’s not that I’m not over Brody. It’s just...what’s the point? You’re always telling me Finn isn’t good enough for me. Jesse wasn’t good enough. Brody wasn’t...what is in me that makes me settle for less than the best? I’ve never done that in any other aspect of my life, but I keep attracting these guys. And...I don’t want to be alone forever. Brody was supposed to be my fresh start, you know?” She’s looking at Santana with those big, sad brown eyes and there’s a panic that bubbles up in her chest. She thinks it has something to do with the fact that she just wants to wrap her arms around Rachel and hold her. She wants to tell her that there are people in this world that will accept her and cherish her and prove to her that she deserves more than she’s allowing, but she can’t do that. The impulse to even want to do it is already foreign enough, but she can’t make heads or tails of her feelings around Rachel lately.
So she can’t just do that. At least not yet.
And she gets wanting a fresh start. New York seems to be that for all of them. The survivors of Lima, Ohio, refugees in their loft in Brooklyn. This is supposed to be their freedom from the demons that haunt them. And it’s strange that on the other side of the war that is high school, she ended up allies with Kurt and Rachel, but there’s gotta be a reason for that, she’s starting to think. There’s gotta be a reason that Quinn’s off on her own and Brittany’s been left behind and she’s here in this moment. Psychic or not, she gets that. Rachel used to know that too. Rachel was already a survivor. She wants to know what the fuck happened. This can’t be the same girl who took daily slushies to the face and kept smiling and singing like she was going to make something of herself.
“That’s the dumbest thing I think you’ve ever said to me. Seriously Rachel, I think my I.Q. just dropped like a hundred points.”
Rachel’s face contorts instantly and she curling back into herself. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
Santana’s on her feet then, throwing her girlfriend pillow on the couch. “No, I understand. I just think you’re being an idiot. Okay, why the hell do you have to be in any relationship at all? You’ve spent what, three years chasing Finn and that ended in such a disaster that you wanted to cling to a guy that probably would’ve given you some kind of weird, plastic STD.” They both make a face at that, but Santana shakes her head. “You know I’m right. You’re too good for this shit and you know you were too good for Brody otherwise you’d still be with him. You just have to stop letting yourself believe the bullshit. Rachel Berry from sophomore year that told us to get our shit together when we were hung up on boys and pregnancies and scandals would probably kick your ass right now. And I’d support that because this is just pathetic. High school is supposed to be the best four years of your life and if that’s true, then I want God to give me my money back. That place sucked for all of us.”
Rachel kind of laughs at that and sits up. Santana smiles down at her and ignores the way her heart skips a beat the moment their eyes catch. “I think the best time starts now and someone’s going to appreciate the crap out of you someday,” she says a little softer than she means to because it just make the moment pregnant with emotions she doesn’t want to share. She shakes her head and holds out her hand. “Come on. Get up and go and get dressed.”
“What? Why? I’m not really in the mood to go out.” Rachel’s protesting even as she stands from the couch. She doesn’t make a move, however, so they’re just kind of standing there holding hands.
Santana looks down at their joined hands and then back at the other girl. “I’m taking you out on a date. I’m can almost wager my last week’s pay that Gigolo Joe never took you on a real one of those.”
Rachel’s eying her skeptically, as if she’s trying to gauge is Santana’s being sincere. “And you’re going to take me on a real date? You?”
“Yeah? Why not? I’ve been on a few of them in my day. I know how they work. Besides it’s time you learn how to casually date without getting giant cartoon eyes with hearts in them anytime someone smiles and calls you pretty.” There’s an implication here that she had not idea what to do with. Santana’s not even completely sure what she’s playing at here, but she’s hoping Rachel will just play along because it’s suddenly really important to her to do this.
“Yes but I...” The words trail off and this look passes over Rachel’s face that Santana can’t read.
She drops Rachel’s hand and shrugs. “You wanted a fresh start and so did I. So, let’s go have one.”
Rachel’s face lights up in this way that makes Santana feel like she’s been kicked in the gut and she nods. “Yeah, okay.”
---
Brooklyn isn’t the most romantic place on face of the planet, but Santana’s actually not even sure she wants to be romantic. Only the fact that the thought is even crossing her mind makes her lean more towards yes than no, but whatever. She’s not going to have a freakout right now no matter what her mind is screaming. She can self-analyze later.
There’s this Indian place a few blocks from where they live and she’s not really one for ethnic foods that aren’t her own. But she’s heard Rachel and Kurt mention wanting to try it and she thinks “why not?” It proves to be a smart move because Rachel’s excited as soon as she figures out where they’re going. There’s a guy standing outside selling two-dollar roses and Santana buy three. Somewhere in her mind it’s to lament the three year it’s taken her to actually get to know Rachel willingly, but she just hands them over, mortified by her own inner cheesiness. Rachel calls her sweet and lifts the flowers to her nose and it’s really kind of adorable. So, Santana feels less lame.
As they walk in, Rachel sheds her coat and it garners her a few looks. Santana’s included. She didn’t get to see Rachel’s dress before they left because she was already in her coat, but if this is what Rachel Berry wears, this short, tight black skirt and low cut top that doesn’t even reveal that much, just gives a hint of rounded flesh, when she’s on a casual date then Santana’s not sure the men in New York are ready for Rachel, not the other way around. Santana’s mouth goes dry for a moment and the first thing she orders is a glass of water.
They make small talk over dinner and it starts to hit Santana that she actually cares about the shit Rachel says. In fact, since she’s moved there, the only thing that’s really annoyed her about Rachel was Brody. She doesn’t care when Rachel hogs the couch or when she practices her singing in the shower. She actually enjoys that shit, watching Rachel be in her natural habitat. And now that Brody’s gone, Rachel’s been a lot more fun, when she isn’t moping that is.
The walking around in tiny towels doesn’t exactly hurt either, but hey, she’s only human.
Dinner actually isn’t bad (She let Rachel order for her which should earn her mucho brownie points in the whatever they are department of their friendship/roommate situation) and Santana settles the check and stands. She even helps Rachel into her coat before leading the way out. She decides to take the long way back to the apartment and doesn’t protest when Rachel takes her hand. Rachel starts telling her about her upcoming showcase and how she’ll, no doubt, be missing for about three weeks because it’s a freshman showcase, but there’s only ten spots open so Rachel’s got to pick what song to audition with. It all sounds boring as hell, but Santana doesn’t mind it, listening to Rachel talk. She’s just silently realizing she’ll be missing Rachel being around and she’s been in this place before, with Brittany, but that’s a little heavy for her right now. So, she pushes the thoughts away.
There’s a moment of hesitation on both of their parts when they reach their building. Santana turns to Rachel and offers her a tiny smile because this is actually starting to feel like the end of a date. Rachel returns the smile and ducks her head a little in a way Santana’s only seen her do when she’s flirting with some guy. It makes her stomach flip and when deep brown eyes return to her face, Rachel’s cheeks are tinged pink.
“Thanks for the date, Santana. It was...probably the most fun I’ve had on a date in a while. It’s weird not to have the pressure of worrying about what to say or what my date is thinking. It was just...nice to get to do this with someone who let me be myself.” She does that half-nod thing Rachel does when she talks and steps closer. There’s a pause and Santana thinks she can hear her own heart pounding in her ears, then Rachel’s hugging her tightly.
Santana must be getting used to this because she’s hugging back almost immediately, running her hands over Rachel’s back and teasing the ends of her hair. It lingers, is longer than their usual hugs, but she doesn’t really mind that. It’s only when Rachel’s pulling back, her eyes flitting across Santana’s face before she leans up and brushes their lips together, that Santana realizes she isn’t actually breathing.
The kiss is barely that, but it clouds her brain and Rachel’s already heading into the building before Santana realizes she’s even moved. There’s this tiny smile on the other girl’s face as she gives Santana one last glance and heads inside. She lifts her fingers to her lips and tries to figure out what the hell just happened to her life in the last twenty seconds.
The only thing that seems to register is that she is totally screwed.