fic: Some Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days
Title: Some Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Mike, Quinn, Brittany, Puck, Kurt, Mercedes, Artie, OCs: Alyson Tyler, Tomás Lopez, Clara Lopez, Felix Lopex, Marisa Lawson, Kat Tyler, Missy Watters, Wendy Kory, Josh Tyler
Rating: barely R
Summary: "So I think a significant amount of time has passed," Rachel says. "To set Quinn up on a blind date."
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~18,050
Spoilers: previous stories in the series.
A/N: Okay, so this story references a story that hasn't been written yet. It's the second of three summer fics, but I wanted to write this one first since I didn't want to leave Quinn pinning anymore. So this one technically follows Just Use a Damn Umbrella, but they'll be another one that happens chronically first. Also, I am working on the part 2 of the future trilogy, but apparently am easily distracted.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
series masterlist
Summer in Lima is exactly as Santana remembers it. They were only gone for a week, but it feels like longer. It's late Saturday night when they return and so Santana spends the night at Rachel's.
It's nice to be alone with her girlfriend. Brittany's her best friend and Puck's not the worst guy she knows, but she missed having some one on one time with Rachel. If Santana didn't already know how whipped she was, she would now, since one on one time doesn't necessarily mean sex.
…
Which isn't to say they don't spend most of Sunday in bed. Santana wakes up to coffee and Rachel crawling back into bed.
"Thanks," she grumbles, sipping the hot liquid.
Rachel nods as she drinks her tea and flips through the paper.
It's sickenly domestic; and while that used to scare the shit of Santana, she's instead decided to embrace it. Brittany's told her again and again that she and Rachel belong together and she should just go with it.
"Besides, everyone already thinks you're whipped. But they're still scared of you. So what does it matter."
Santana can concede that point; which is why she sets down her coffee mug and straddles Rachel.
"Santana," Rachel scolds. "What have I said about interrupting me when I'm reading the Sunday New York Times?"
"That it's not allowed?" Santana teases. "Sorry, babe, but I wanted a good morning kiss." She leans in, half expecting to be pushed away.
Rachel, with a fond smile on her face, shakes her head in amusement and pulls Santana closer. They kiss leisurely for a few moments before Rachel pulls away.
"Now may I finish reading?" she asks.
"Yes dear," Santana replies, sliding off her. She takes another sip of coffee and grabs a section of paper to read.
…
Sunday evening arrives too soon for Santana. Even if Rachel wasn't adamant about going, she'd still be going home for Sunday night dinner. After being gone a week, her mother would tar and feather her if she didn't show up. The fact that her parents let her go on a road trip with her girlfriend and two trouble making friends is still rather unbelievable.
They're a bit early; at Rachel's insistence. While Santana goes upstairs to put her things away, Rachel goes into the kitchen to say hello. She receives a hug from Clara and immediately offers to help with dinner.
"That would be lovely dear," Clara says. "But perhaps you could go say hello to Tomás first? And have your wayward girlfriend join you?"
"Certainly."
Rachel goes up to Santana's room and knocks on the door. She finds Santana putting things away.
"Your mother wanted me to remind you to say hello to your father once you're done up here."
"Seriously?" Santana asks without turning around. "By the time I'm done, it'll probably be time for dinner."
"Oh. Well, then I'm going to go say hello then, if you don't mind."
"Course, babe," Santana replies. "He'll probably be more excited to see you anyway."
"You know he just enjoys teasing you," Rachel tells her.
"Whatever you say, Rach."
Rachel just shakes her head and heads back downstairs.
"Hey sis," Felix greets her as she reaches the bottom of the stairs.
"Felix, hello," Rachel replies. "I see you're back from college."
"Indeed," he agrees. "Staying for the summer."
"I figured."
"Right. Of course." Felix shrugs. "So how was your trip?"
"Lovely. A nice get away," Rachel replies.
"Good. Going to see the old man?"
Rachel nods. "It was your mother's suggestion."
"Well don't let me stop you."
Rachel nods again and makes her way to Tomás' study. She knocks firmly twice and waits. When she receives permission to enter, she opens the door and slides inside.
"Hello Tomás," Rachel greets. "Clara suggested I stop in and say hello before dinner."
"Did she now?" Tomás asks, spinning around to face Rachel. "Well then I count myself lucky."
Rachel smiles. "It's nice to see you too. Though no more time has passed than the usual amount between my visits."
"That may be true," Tomás agrees. "But we expect to see you more, now that it's summer."
"Oh. Well, I'm not sure how possible that will be. Just because it's summer, doesn't mean I don't have a full schedule. I have various dance classes and vocal lessons, plus I'm helping a friend teach dance at the community center."
Tomás shakes his head. "Santana said you hate to be idle for too long."
"Idle hands are the devil's playground."
Tomás chuckles. "I suppose that's true."
"I'll let you get back to work, then," Rachel says. "I just wanted to say hi."
Tomás smiles. "I'll see you in a bit, Rachel."
…
The five of them sit down to dinner about fifteen minutes later. There's the usual chatter as everyone settles in and begins eating. Clara asks about the trip and Rachel fills in bits and pieces, saving Santana the effort. Which is probably good since her stories wouldn’t be as detailed or entertaining as Rachel's. Plus, Santana has a tendency to not censor herself, which considering the company, may have embarrassed Rachel.
"So now that you're back, it'll be a lazy summer?" Felix asks. "Sanny here, is always a lazy ass over the summer."
"Language, Felix," Clara says.
"Hardly," Rachel says. "Because it's the summer before our final year of high school, being lethargic is out of the question. I still have plenty of voice and dance to attend this summer. Not to mention I'm helping out Mike with the dance class he's teaching at the community center."
"Mike?"
"Chang," Santana answers.
"Oh, yes," Clara says. "Another polite young person I can't believe associates with you."
"Nice mom," Felix chuckles
"Thanks," Santana snaps.
"And Santana still has Cheerios," Rachel continues. "I realize that doesn’t start immediately, but once it does, Coach Sylvester is quite the slave driver."
"True," Tomás agrees. "That woman is what you get when a drill sergeant and a Doberman Pinscher reproduce."
"Actually her mother's a Nazi hunter," Rachel throws out. "Which I think explains a lot."
"It does actually," Clara agrees. She turns to Santana. "And so what exactly are your plans this summer?"
"Hanging with Rachel," Santana answers. "Cheerios starts back up in August."
"So what? You're going to lounge around Rachel's house and distract her?"
Santana shrugs. "Basically."
"You're not spending your whole summer over there, Santana," Clara tells her. "You're only spending Saturday nights over there. You'll still come to dinner Sunday night and Rachel can stay over here. But that's it."
"Mom."
"You'll still have your usual summer curfew, otherwise," Clara continues.
"But I'm doing it for Rachel," Santana protests.
"Oh?"
"With her dads not being around that much, I don't want her to be alone," she explains. "At least during school, she sees other people during the day. But in summer, she'll just be seeing her teachers."
"And Mike," Rachel adds.
"Quiet you," Santana shushes. "You don't want her alone all the time, do you?"
"What about Brittany or Mike or that Puckerman boy?"
"Well, yeah, there's those guys, but…"
"Awww, little Santana doesn't want to be away from her girlfriend," Felix teases. "So adorable. Who knew you were such a--ow! C'mon San, that hurt."
"Whatever, wuss."
"Santana, what did you do?" Rachel asks.
"I just reminded him that I'm tougher than he is," she replies.
"Santana, don't kick your brother," Clara says, sounding tired. "You're both too old for that."
"I will never be too old to kick him," Santana retorts.
Rachel tries to hide her chuckle in her napkin, but the smirk on Santana's lips tell her she wasn't terribly successful.
"Lord give me strength," Clara says. "You two will never grow up, will you?"
"Nope," Santana answers, unapologetically.
"Sorry mom," Felix mumbles.
"Suck up," Santana mutters.
"What are you doing this summer, Felix?" Rachel asks.
"Got my usual summer job, hang out with a few guys from high school and as little as possible."
It amuses Rachel how similar Felix and Santana can be. She wonders if they realize. Judging by the smirk on Clara's face, Rachel doesn't think they have yet.
"Well, we should hang out too," Rachel tells him.
"That'd be cool."
"What?" Santana interjects. "No way."
"Why not?"
"Because. Because he's Felix," Santana protests.
"That really isn't an argument Santana," Rachel tells her.
"Whatever. We'll talk about it later."
"Whatever you say, dear," Rachel replies.
…
Rachel insists on going back to her place to grab a few things and Felix offers to go with her. The only thing that stops Santana from protesting is a glare from her mother. So while her girlfriend and pain in the ass older brother head back to Rachel's, Santana helps clean up dinner.
"What?" Santana asks after feeling her father's eyes on her for five minutes.
"It's nice to have you back," he replies.
"Sheesh, papa, we were only gone a week."
"Believe it or not, but your mother and I enjoy having you around," Tomás tells her.
"You mean cause of Rachel?"
"Maybe," Tomás says. "I think she brings out a lot of good things in you. And vice versa."
"Yeah?" Santana asks. "Cause some days it seems like you really do like her best."
Tomás chuckles. "San, we love Rachel because you do. And honestly, we love you together. I can finally relax a bit because I don't have to worry about you. I know Rachel will take care of you."
"I can take care of myself."
"But isn't it nice to let someone else, every once in a while?"
Not meeting his eyes, Santana says, "Yeah."
"Then maybe you could do what your mother asked?" Tomás asks. "And be around a bit more this summer? Rachel's always welcome."
"I know."
"Good."
…
The knock on her door Tuesday morning is a surprise. Looking at the clock tells Rachel it's too early to be Santana. She's just gotten back from a voice lesson and isn't expecting anyone.
It's Mike who greets her with a surprising hug which she returns with a smile.
"Did you have a good time?" Mike asks as he follows her into the kitchen.
"I did," Rachel replies. "Drink?"
"Water is fine."
Rachel grabs two bottles out of the fridge. Handing one to Mike, she joins him at the table.
"I was hoping you'd have time to talk about the class a bit," Mike says. "First one is next week."
"Of course," Rachel replies. "I've got it written down. Tuesday and Thursday from one to three."
"Great." Mike pulls out a notebook and spreads it on the table. "So here's what I was thinking."
…
Santana doesn't show up until almost two p.m. She just misses Mike who stayed for lunch and conversation before taking off. Like her, he continues to take classes during the summer and so he had to leave, but promised they'd hang out later in the week.
Rachel knows that Santana's slothfulness is because for ten months of the year, she's dealing with Coach Sylvester's severe schedule. She understands why Santana wants to sleep in; Rachel just misses her. She feels a bit pathetic. They just spend a whole week together. Not to mention they spend Saturday and Sunday night together. She should be able to survive for a few hours.
How the hell is she going to survive college?
…
Wednesday, Brittany shows up before Santana does. Rachel is rather delighted since she hasn’t seen the blonde since they returned Saturday night. And after a week of constant exposure, it’s odd to go days without seeing her.
Rachel is up in her room looking over the information Mike gave her about the class they're teaching when Brittany knocks on the door, before opening it and stepping into the room.
“Hi Rachel,” Brittany greets.
“Hi Britt,” Rachel replies. “I’d ask how you got in, but it’s probably better I don’t.” She sets down the packet of paper and faces Brittany.
Brittany shrugs. “Okay.”
“So what brings you by?”
“I missed you Rachy.”
“Thanks, Brittany,” Rachel replies. “I admit it has felt rather odd not seeing you after so much exposure.”
“Santana still sleeping?”
“I guess.”
“I thought for sure, S would be here, Rach,” Brittany says. “I was kinda hoping to kill two cats with one stone. How come she didn’t spend the night?”
“Not allowed.”
“Really?”
“Indeed,” Rachel tells her. “Clara and Tomás, considering all they know, have been fairly lax for parents. Don’t you think?”
“I suppose so.”
“And I can spend time over there,” Rachel continues. “If the house is getting too empty. It’s just Santana’d rather not.”
“Well, I’m sure if you asked post orgasm, she’d agree,” Brittany says.
“I’m sure she would,” Rachel agrees. “But it seems unnecessary. I’m fairly busy during the summer and it’s really only at night does the house get lonely.”
“Well then you should spend the night at Santana’s.”
“Maybe,” Rachel allows. “We’ll see how it goes.”
"Or you could come over and spend the night with me," Brittany continues. "We can totally cuddle. S won't mind."
."That could be fun."
…
When Santana eventually shows up, Brittany suggests they all go to the park. Santana doesn't protest, but when they get to the park, she stretches out on a bench and waves away Rachel and Brittany's attempts to have her join them.
Brittany and Rachel swing for a bit, before literally dragging Santana off the bench and having fun with them. They spend a couple hours running around like little kids.
…
Thursday, Rachel is trying out a new vegan carrot cake recipe because she’s determined to get Santana to admit to liking a vegan recipe out loud. Which of course means Santana just asks if something’s vegan before she comments on it. Rachel tried lying once, but apparently Santana can tell that she’s lying; which Rachel finds extremely inconvenient.
The knock on her door is once again a surprise. She’s so used to being in her own little world at home that it always surprises her when someone else wants to intrude. Wiping her hands on a towel, she goes to answer it.
Opening the door reveals, Felix.
“Hey Rachel.”
“Felix, what a lovely surprise,” Rachel replies. “I’m assuming you’re not looking for Santana?”
“No,” Felix agrees. “That lazy bum is still sleeping.”
“She barely sleeps during the school year,” Rachel defends. “What with Cheerios and glee and school.”
Felix just shakes his head, with a smirk. “You two.” He follows Rachel into the kitchen.
“Excuse the mess, I was baking,” Rachel says. “So what brings you by?”
“I was hoping we could hang out a bit, before Santana rolled out of bed,” Felix replies. “I have to work in a couple hours, but maybe lunch?”
“That sounds lovely,” Rachel tells him. “And you can keep me company while I finish up this carrot cake. I’m just about done and then I can scrounge something up for lunch.”
“That seems unfair,” Felix says. “I didn’t come over here to be fed.”
“Well, the cake takes approximately forty minutes,” Rachel replies. “Is that too long of wait?”
“I could go get something and bring it back,” Felix offers. “Or maybe delivery?”
“That seems like a lot of effort for a simple lunch,” Rachel says. “What if I just make sandwiches? We have non vegan things. Neither of my fathers is.”
“Are you sure?” Felix asks. “I just wanted to hang out. It’s just between work and your lessons, this is the only time that really worked.”
“It’s fine, Felix,” Rachel assures him. “I appreciate the visit, no matter what.”
“Well if you’re sure,” Felix allows. “Then a sandwich would be great.”
“Super,” Rachel smiles.
…
Santana gets amusingly huffy when she finds out that Rachel had lunch with Felix.
"I don't see what the big deal is," Rachel says.
"Rach, it's my brother. He's… I don't know, but I guess it's weirding me out a bit, still, how much my family likes me."
"Because I'm so unlikable?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Santana scoffs. "Because, as I'm sure my parents have already told you, they never really liked anyone else. Not that anyone's really been steady enough for them to like."
"What about Brittany?"
"Brittany's different."
"True enough.
…
Noah shows up Friday afternoon intent on having a party at her place. She refuses, not trusting her classmates in her house.
"Okay. What about a few choice people then?" Noah tries.
"I don’t know what that means."
"Like glee. That freshman--"
"Technically she'd be a sophomore now," Rachel interrupts.
"A couple guys from the team that don’t suck. A Cheerio or two besides our girls. "C'mon."
"Fine. But if anyone shows up that I disapprove of, you will be throwing them out. Or else."
"Absolutely, bro. I can do that. With pleasure."
"It's already four, though," Rachel points out. "Kind of short notice."
"It's summer in Lima," Noah retorts. "Like there's something better going on."
Rachel can concede that point.
…
Surprisingly, only about twenty people show up. Which Rachel considers a triumphant, since half of them are from glee. It's small and causal and so Rachel doesn't feel too worried about how things will turn out. She decides to indulge.
In the kitchen, she finds Noah and asks him to find her a drink. His answering grin is devious and dangerous. He grabs a red plastic cup and starts adding small amounts of various liquors. He grabs a spoon and mixes it vigorously.
"Drink this first."
"What is it?" Rachel asks, accepting the cup.
"An acid cookie," Noah replies. "You need a shot before you can start properly drinking."
"Noah, just because I requested an alcoholic beverage, doesn't mean--"
"Rach, bro, trust me. Just down the damn thing and then I'll make you an actual drink."
"Very well." Rachel quickly swallows the contents of the cup.
Noah snatches the red cup back and begins to add a few more ingredients before stirring briskly. He returns to cup to Rachel.
Rachel takes a tentative sip. It's not bad.
"What is this?"
"A Red Headed Slut," Noah smirks.
"You just want to hear me say slut all night, don't you?"
"Well, we have the ingredients," Noah replies. "Besides, I bet by the time you finish that one, you'll have no problem saying slut. Your tolerance sucks."
"We can't all have the tolerance of a functional alcoholic, Noah," Rachel tells him. "But thank you for the drink."
"No prob, bro."
…
Rachel is gliding out of the kitchen when a familiar face opens the door.
“Marisa, hi,” Rachel greets. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Hi Rach,” Marisa replies, gesturing to the two people on right. “I hope it’s okay that I brought some people.”
“Of course,” Rachel tells her, throwing her arms up and out. “The more the merrier.”
“Are you drunk?” Marisa asks.
“Not quite,” Rachel answers. “So who’d you bring?”
“Oh, well, this is Tom Mercer and Beatrice Swann. Fellow theater geeks.”
“Awesome. Glad you could make it guys.”
Artie suddenly appears at Rachel’s side. “Hey Rach, did you know that-hey, Tom, man. What’s up?”
“Hey Artie.”
“This guy,” Artie says, pointing to Tom. “Is like the most awesome piano player ever.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. He’s in jazz band with me. Can’t sing for shit, but man can he play.”
“Thanks,” Tom says.
“Well you guys, go have fun,” Rachel says. She turns to Artie. “So what’s up?”
“Oh. Well, I was just giving you a heads up. There’s a couple Cheerios looking for you.”
“Um, well, considering who’s here, I’m not too concerned,” Rachel replies. “But thanks for the heads up.”
"I'm just saying, Rachel," Artie continues. "Anything could happen."
"Did Noah make you a drink?"
Artie nods enthusiastically. "I've had two already."
"Well maybe you want to take a short hiatus before the next one? Because they seem quite strong."
"That's half the fun, though, right?"
…
"Berry."
"Quinn. What an unexpected surprise."
"Yeah, well, Puck insisted."
“It’s not so bad.”
“Yeah, summer in Lima. Woo hoo.”
“Why does alcohol make you so melancholy?” Rachel asks.
“Bad associations,” Quinn retorts.
“You act like that’s the only time you’ve drank,” Rachel tells her.
Quinn shoots Rachel a dirty look. Rachel ignores it. "I know it's probably going to get shot down, but if you ever want to hang out, I'd very much welcome that."
Quinn sighs. "We'll see."
"It doesn't have to just be you and me. Maybe us, Britt and San can see a movie or something."
"I said, we'll see, Berry."
"Fair enough."
…
Rachel is talking with Marisa, Beatrice, and Tom when she feels eyes on her. She tries to ignore it, assuming the alcohol is making her a bit paranoid. But finally she can't handle it and lets her eyes search the room. Eventually her gaze falls onto two Cheerios; the blonde licks her lips and winks. Recognizing them as the pair that propositioned her, Rachel ducks her head and strives to avoid eye contact.
Listening to Tom, Beatrice and Tom exchange stories, Rachel wonders if she should have done more theater in her high school career. With all her lessons, there never seemed to be any time. And unlike the football team, McKinley's theater department was actually pretty decent.
…
Without intending to, Rachel finds herself drunk. It crept up on her because all of a sudden she's leaning against a wall, clutching her cup while watching Santana and Brittany on the dance floor. And even though another threesome with Brittany never really occurred to her, it now seems to be the only thing on Rachel's mind. She tightens her grip on her cup as she tries to slow her breathing; causally glancing around shows that at least no one noticed.
"Hey girl."
"Oh, hi Mercedes. Kurt." Rachel turns slightly to face the pair. "Having a good time?"
"I must say, Rachel," Kurt starts. "You throw a decent shindig."
"Hmmm. Noah's going to be disappointed. He wanted a party."
"And what exactly qualifies this as a shindig?" Mercedes asks.
"Well the definition of a shindig is dip, not quite mellow song stylings that is usually accompanied by large amounts of alcoholic beverages."
Mercedes looks around the room. "You just made that up from looking around."
"Tell me I'm wrong."
Mercedes just shakes her head and turns to Rachel. "So I assume you're in full diva mode this summer and doing your usual insane amount of classes?"
Rachel nods, knowing Mercedes is at least trying. "Yes. Talent must be fostered if it is to continue to grow properly."
"Summer is the time for relaxing and chilling."
"Which I already accomplished with the road trip," Rachel explains.
"Some days just watching you makes me tired," Kurt says.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Rachel replies.
"How come you're not out there dancing?" Mercedes asks.
"Santana and Brittany seem to be doing just fine on their own."
"I still don't understand those two," Kurt says. "Or you in relation."
"I'm not sure there's anything to get," Rachel replies.
"Just look at them," Kurt exclaims, sloshing a bit of his drink on his arm. "I mean, that kind of… It has to mean something."
"It speaks to a past sexual intimacy, I agree," Rachel says. "Emphasis on the word, past."
"Please don't say the words sexual intimacy in my presence ever again," Kurt tells her.
"Noted."
…
Sneaking outside for a bit of fresh air, Rachel sees Marisa stretched out on the grass, staring into the night sky.
"May I?" she asks.
"Course, Rach."
Rachel lays down next to Marisa, mimicking Marisa by putting her hands behind her head.
"Thanks for inviting me," Marisa says after a few moments of silence.
"Thank you for coming."
"I just needed a bit of air," Marisa explains. "I’m glad Tom and Beatrice came with me since I don't really know anyone else."
"I'm sorry, Marisa," Rachel says. "I didn't even think of that."
"Rachel, it's fine," Marisa interrupts. "You told me I could bring as many people as I like, so it's no big deal. But I'm the sober driver, so I needed a break from all the drunk people."
"I understand," Rachel replies. "Despite being inebriated myself, I felt the need for a break."
"You're the only teenager I know who would use the word inebriated to describe themselves."
"Intoxication is no excuse for improper speech. Though I admit it's take a bit more effort than usually to remain my usual loquacious self."
"Coulda fooled me."
They lay in silence, still staring into the sky.
"But you're having a good time?" Rachel asks, eventually breaking the silence.
"Yes, Rachel," Marisa says, a smile in her voice. "I’m having a good time."
…
Rachel returns inside to find Noah doing a series of shots while being encouraged by Finn, Mike and a couple of the nicer football players. Finishing, he is slapped on the back a dozen times before Finn shoves a beer in his hand. Turning, Noah spots Rachel.
"Bro!"
"Noah," she greets. "Congratulations on whatever it is you just accomplished."
"You're still too wordy to be properly smashed, Rach."
"Thank you?"
Noah grabs a few bottles, pouring them into the cup that's currently, thankfully, empty in her hand. It feels weirdly invasive.
"Drink that, bro," Noah tells her. "A shot. Double, actually."
"Noah, I don't need this."
"You do," he insists. "If you were wasted like you're supposed to be, you'd slam it, no thought."
Rachel just stares at him.
"C'mon, Rach," he says. "It's summer. Have a bit of fun."
"Fine," Rachel sighs. She quickly swallows the shot. It goes down smooth and sweet.
"That my dear," Noah says. "Was a brain destroyer. If I hear you using any more SAT words in twenty minutes, I'm going to consider you a hopeless case."
"The brain destroyer? What are you trying to accomplish? And for the last time, I will not be participating in a threesome with you."
"Do you know what Santana threatened to do to me the last time I asked?" Noah replies. "Trust me, I won't be asking that any time soon. I just want you properly bombed."
"You have very strange goals, Noah."
"I could say the same about you bro."
…
Rachel is washing her hands in the bathroom, when the shot hits her. Noah was right. It's like a wave crashed over her, leaving her most definitely drunk. It makes her want to continue being overly eloquent around him. There's nothing wrong with her need to remain articulate while inebriated.
Leaving the bathroom, she's ambushed and shoved back inside. The door is quickly locked and she is trapped. She’s about to scream, when she recognizes her attackers. It takes her another moment to place their names; Rachel blames it on the alcohol and the fact that they’re not in uniform.
“Missy. Wendy.”
Wendy’s grin grows. “You remember us.”
“I have an excellent memory,” Rachel replies. “Apparently, even when drinking.”
“Or we’re just that memorable,” Missy says, shyly, easing closer to Rachel.
“After all,” Wendy continues. “How many Cheerios do you have offering themselves to you?”
“Besides Lopez, of course,” Missy says.
And suddenly Rachel finds herself sitting on the counter, a Cheerio half straddling each leg.
“That’s true,” Rachel agrees, fighting the sexual haze that seems to have fallen over the bathroom. “But that’s okay since I don’t want any other Cheerios.”
“Really?” Missy asks. “Not even on a superficial level? I mean, we’re hot.”
“And bendy,” Wendy adds.
“Who isn’t?” Rachel scoffs.
Missy smirks as she and Wendy continue to press into Rachel. “Something to look forward to.” She bites her lip before pulling Rachel down to kiss her.
It’s warm and wet and in Rachel’s drunken state, she lets out a soft moan that allows Missy to slide her tongue against Rachel’s. She tastes like orange juice. They pull apart a few moments later to catch their breathes and Wendy quickly takes Missy’s place.
Rachel lets out another moan as Wendy's tongue thoroughly explores her mouth. Wendy tastes like beer and Rachel lets herself sink into the kiss as multiple hands glide over clothed skin. When a hand slides over a covered, but erect nipple, Rachel pulls away with a gasp.
Missy tries to take Wendy's place and lean in for another taste, but Rachel pulls back.
"Hold it, right there,' Rachel gasps, trying to fight the lust filled, alcoholic daze she's in. "What do you two think you're doing?"
The girls share a look. "It seems pretty obvious to me," Missy answers.
"And judging by your reaction," Wendy continues. "I think you already figured it out."
"I blame my lack of resistance on my large alcohol intake this evening," Rachel replies.
"You want us, Rachel," Missy says. "Why deny it?"
"Simple lust isn't enough for me to cheat."
Wendy grabs Missy's hand and begins sucking on her fingers. The lewd slurping is almost too much for Rachel to take. The expression on their faces is the dirtiest thing Rachel's seen in a long time. She fights to look away; both girls' eyes are full of promise.
"No matter how amazing or incredible it'll be," Rachel finishes.
"Come on," Missy pushes. "Lopez will never know."
"I can't," Rachel protests. "And it'll be written all over my face. Santana would know."
"Are you sure?" Wendy asks, before grabbing Missy and pull her in for a kiss. Rachel watches in awe as they grind against each other, moaning. She loses track of hands, but judging by their noise, they've gone to unmentionable places. A few heated moments later, they pull apart.
"God, no," Rachel says, swallowing several times. "But I won't do that to Santana." Rachel slips off the counter and pushes her way to the door. She unlocks the door and turns around. "I appreciate the offer, though." And slips out, slamming the door behind her.
"That was an impressive amount of restraint," Missy says.
Wendy nods. "Are we giving up?"
"Hell, no," Missy tells her. "We've still got a whole 'nother school year to try."
"I don't see why you care so much," Wendy says, turning to the mirror to fix her very smeared lipstick.
"Anyone who has Coach Sylvester's approval has to be awesome," Missy explains. "Plus, keeping Santana Lopez's interest in bed? Fucking tiger in the sack."
"You know Lopez is going to be pissed when she finds out."
"If she finds out," Missy replies. "Plenty happened that Rachel won't want to admit. It's possible she won't even mention it."
"I guess."
"You worry too much," Missy tells her. "We're Cheerios. What would Santana do to us?"
"Yeah. I guess you're right."
…
Rachel stumbles towards the kitchen for some water. Considering what just happened, sobering up seems like a good idea. It's late enough that people seem to be done drinking, so it's thankfully quiet in the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and heads back outside for some fresh air. She hopes there's no one out there because she could use some alone time.
Luckily, the back yard is empty, so Rachel walks to the fence and sits, leaning back against it as she sips water. It's clear out and so Rachel lets her mind wander. Specifically back to the bathroom. Now, away from temptation, it's easier for Rachel to berate her lack of control.
How is she going to tell Santana? A small part of her admits she could probably never tell her and no one would be the wiser. However, most of her, wants to tell Santana. Rachel doesn't want to have such a secret to keep; especially since they came on to her. Sure, she might have slipped a bit, but consider, can anyone blame her?
Rachel sighs. She knows it depends on whom she asked. Noah would ask for details and say it's not her fault. Actually, so would Brittany. Santana? Jealousy is usually the first response. She's going to have a lot of explaining to do. She just hopes it can wait until the light of day when they're both sober.
…
Brittany is the one that finds her.
"Rachy! Here you are. We've been looking all over for you."
By now, Rachel is mostly sober and tired. And perhaps a bit melancholy. She looks up at Brittany's smiling face and tries to smile back. "I seem to have lost track of time."
"That's okay. But it's time to sleep. C'mon."
Brittany pulls her up and drags her inside.
The kitchen isn't in disarray like Rachel expected. It's obvious some cleaning has happened. How long was she sitting outside?
"We've picked up all the trash and straightened things out best we can," Brittany explains. "So now it's just bed time. Right?"
Rachel nods. "Are you staying?" She goes to the refrigerator and pulls out bottles of water for the morning.
"Yep. Puck is staying too. S isn't happy about that, but he's definitely too drunk to go home. And it's too late for you to drive him home, so don't even offer."
"I'm too tired to, anyway, Brittany."
And so she ends up in her bed with the three of them. Noah and Brittany are on the outside while Santana protectively spoons her.
…
Rachel wakes up warm and surrounded. Blinking against the sunlight because no one remembered to close the blinds, Rachel assesses her situation. She's Santana's little spoon, but it also seems that Noah is snuggling against her. Turning her head slightly, Rachel also sees that Brittany is wrapped around Santana. The four of them appear to be a pile of snugglers. It makes Rachel giggle.
It takes a great deal of effort, but Rachel finally manages to extract herself from the pile. She grabs a bottle of water and downs half it while walking towards the bathroom. Only intending to pee, she ends up taking a shower. Feeling immensely better, she heads downstairs.
In the kitchen, she brews coffee and rifles through the cupboards to see what she can make for breakfast. She finds all the ingredients for pancakes; both for her and for her non vegan cohorts. Glancing at the clock tells her they probably won't be up for a while, so she pours herself some coffee and heads to the living room. Turning on the TV, she tries to find something to watch.
…
Santana wakes up to the smell of coffee and pancakes. She's in between Puck and Brittany; which is no real surprise because who else but Rachel would be cooking. She pushes Puck off and reaches for a bottle of water. She downs the whole thing in about two minutes and climbs out of bed.
Downstairs she finds Rachel at the stove, humming and swaying slightly. Santana lets herself smile as she watches. She'd never say it out loud, but she'll occasionally have daydreams of her future that involve her wife Rachel cooking her breakfast.
"Hey babe," Santana says, announcing herself.
"Morning tiger," Rachel returns. "Just in time for some hot off the stove pancakes."
"Thanks." Santana walks to the coffee pot and pours herself a mug full. She then sits at the table and puts a couple of cakes on her plate.
Rachel joins her a few minutes later, setting the rest of the pancakes on the table. Santana watches Rachel sip a glass of almond milk before digging into her own vegan friendly pancakes.
"God, woman," Santana groans as she eats. "Even if you sucked in bed, I'd ask you to marry me, just for these pancakes."
"Thank you," Rachel replies, dryly.
"Lucky for me, you fuck even better than you cook."
"Again. Thank you."
Santana smirks. "You know you love it."
"Eat your pancakes, Santana."
…
Rachel waits until Noah and Brittany have taken off before telling Santana about her Cheerio bathroom encounter the previous night. It's not a pleasant conversation.
They're watching TV in the living room when Rachel decides to bring it up.
"San," Rachel starts. "We need to talk."
"Bout what babe?"
"Santana, this is serious." Rachel grabs the remote and mutes the TV. "I need to tell you something." Rachel pulls away from Santana; they'd been cuddling.
"All right," Santana says slowly, apprehension obvious on her face.
"As you know, last night, I consumed far more alcohol than I intended, at Noah's prompting."
Santana nods.
"I was most definitely intoxicated. So when I was propositioned in the bathroom last night, I admit that I didn't react properly."
"What. The. Fuck. Does that mean?"
"I was leaving the bathroom, but was pushed back inside and trapped. A, uh, threesome was then offered and I was kissed before I could respond."
"Oh."
"And I kissed back. Both of them. But then there were hands and I quickly put a stop to it. And then I fled the bathroom."
Santana jumps off the couch and begins pacing.
"I am so sorry. I take full responsibility. I'm not blaming the alcohol, but I do admit my inhibitions were lowered a bit. But I don't want anyone but you. It's just difficult to resist when a pretty girl kisses you."
Santana still doesn't say anything.
"That's no excuse. You're right. I'm a horrible person." Rachel feels tears forming and does her best to sniffle quietly.
Santana sighs and rejoins Rachel on the couch. "Don't cry, babe, you know I hate that." Santana pulls Rachel in for a hug. "You're not a horrible person. You're right, it is difficult to resist a kiss when you've been drinking. Brittany and I traded a few kisses last night on the dance floor."
"Brittany's different," Rachel sniffs.
Santana chuckles sardonically. "That's definitely true. But I still kissed someone who wasn't you. And you have to admit if you hadn't been propositioned last night, you'd be a little upset. Or at least hurt."
"Maybe."
"If anything, I should be pissed at whoever kissed you. I mean, everyone knows you're mine. I mean that we're dating."
"It's fine, San," Rachel assures her. "I know what you meant. I am yours and vice versa. Right?"
"Right. Exactly," Santana nods.
"So we're okay?"
"We're okay, babe."
…
The rest of the weekend goes well. Surprisingly, Santana doesn't push Rachel to reveal who hit on her. Rachel spends half of Saturday on edge, waiting for the question, but it never comes. It's possible that Santana already knows; there were only so many people at the party and a number of them can be immediately eliminated. Rachel tries not to worry.
Instead, she tries to analyze her feelings about Santana and Brittany kissing. It certainly feeds into her almost constant underlying fear of losing Santana to Brittany. She knows it's highly improbable, but the fear is always there and may always be. What keeps it at bay is the knowledge that Brittany wouldn't do that to her and that she truly trusts Santana.
And yet, if she hadn't kissed both Missy and Wendy, Rachel can admit that she would be a little hurt. Mostly because both Santana and Rachel agreed that while it had been fun to include Brittany, the two of them is all they need.
Still, they're both young and with the addition of alcohol, they're both going to make mistakes. The important thing is that they're able to work through things. The fact that they can, makes Rachel feel proud almost; in her mind, it bodes well for future conflicts.
…
Tuesday, Rachel wakes up a bit excited. She knows teaching twelve and thirteen year olds dance isn't going to necessarily be easy, but she enjoys a challenge. Besides, Rachel is looking forward to spending time with Mike. Their friendship has unexpectantly grown over the last few months. And watching Mike dance, it's poetry; besides the fact of how obviously he enjoys it.
She goes to her Tuesday voice lesson and is amazing. Rachel chalks it anticipation, but eagerly accepts her teacher's praise.
At home, she has lunch, cleans a bit and then sends Santana a text, reminding her that she won't be around until evening. Rachel knows it's possible that Santana will show up anyway and will be waiting for her. She doesn't mind. She has nothing to hide and Santana will most likely just watch TV since Rachel, according to Santana, gets much better channels.
Rachel can admit that her dads subscribe to an insane amount of channels for people that are never home. She wonders if it's for her benefit; more to keep her occupied. It's a mildly depressing thought.
…
She and Mike are meeting thirty minutes before class to set up, get settled, etc. As is her habit, Rachel is fifteen minutes early. She does a few stretches and tries to gather the necessary supplies that they're borrowing from the community center.
Mike appears five minutes later, grinning when he sees she's already arrived. Rachel just waves.
They don't speak for about fifteen minutes as they set everything up. Not that it's much, just a table, an iPod dock with speakers and some packets of information. They clear the room of everything else, so there's plenty of room to move.
Looking around the room, Rachel considers them ready and Mike agrees.
…
There are eight kids in the class; four boys and four girls. Rachel surprised that there are actually four teenage boys that would willingly take a summer dance class. But they all seem eager, so she doesn't question it.
They do introductions and talk about what the class is going to be like. Then they have each kid talk about their dancing experience and what they want to learn. Wanting to accomplish something, even if it's only the first day, Mike and Rachel pair up the kids and show them some simple partner dances like the waltz, foxtrot and some ballroom dancing.
Overall, they do well, though a couple of the boys seem to have trouble with the concept of leading, but Mike patiently helps them.
They have a bit of time left over and so they have each kid demonstrate some dance that they want to show off.
No one wants to go first, so Rachel, being the consummate performer she is, volunteers to go first. She locates her tap shoes and slips them on. Taking a deep breath, she begins the routine she performed at her last recital a few years ago.
"Hey, I can do that," Kat, an energetic brunette, calls out.
"Well come on up and show us," Rachel tells her.
Kat jumps up and runs to her bag. She pulls on tap shoes and ties them before joining Rachel at the front of the room.
Rachel starts the routine over, slowly, but Kat doesn't seem to need it and so Rachel continues at regular speed. When they finish, Rachel can admit to being impressed. Kat kept up with her the whole time; everything she did was crisp and clean. Rachel can hear her tap teacher complimenting Kat in her head.
They receive a big round of applause and Rachel curtseys as Kat bows slightly.
Kat then turns and hugs Rachel. "Thanks, Rachel. That was fun."
"For me as well."
They sit down and watch the rest of the kids dance. Kat's performance seems to have taken away the nervousness as one by one the other jump up to show off what they know.
June is next and she does some simple ballet moves. Ben jumps up next and does some jazz moves that remind Rachel a lot of West Side Story. Sara is next and she does some jazz moves more reminiscent of Fosse. Bobby is next and he does a quick Irish step dance, blushing the whole time. Tim jumps up and motions Amy to join him. They do a Cakewalk, though it's a bit sloppy, Rachel's still impressed. Harry's last and he puts on tap shoes as well. His routine isn't as complex, but his form is good and it's obvious that he enjoys it and so when he sits down, he gets quite a bit of applause.
Looking at the time, Mike ends the class. Rachel is putting her tap shoes away when she notices Kat standing next to her.
"Hello."
"Hi Rachel."
"What can I do for you, Kat?"
"We'll be doing some tap in this class, right?"
"Of course. Mike and I would be remiss if we left tap out."
"Cool."
"You're an excellent tapper."
"Thanks. My teacher, Mr. Miller says I have a good tap eye. Oh and instincts."
"I would agree with that. You picked that up pretty quick."
"Oh, well, I've been working on something kinda similar, so I think that made it easier."
"Really? That is rather impressive."
"Thanks Rachel. I better go. My sister's probably looking for me. See you Thursday." Clenching her bag, the girl runs out, waving over her shoulder.
"Bye Kat."
"Someone's made a friend, I see," Mike says, appearing next to Rachel.
"Did you see her tap?" Rachel asks. "That's natural talent."
"Most definitely," Mike agrees. "I think this is going to be a fun group."
"I do as well."
"So what's next? You have anything you have to do?"
"Not really. Are you busy?"
"Nope."
"Want to hang out?"
"Sounds fun."
…
Rachel decides they should hang out after every class. Mike agrees.
"I don't mean to be pushy," Rachel says. "It's just, I figured it would be the easiest this way, since we're already together. It makes sense. And we've both said we'd like to hang out more. And though tiresome, sometimes, my summer schedule is rather packed. And it's not that I don't enjoy teaching with you, because I do. But it's just we're surrounded by eight thirteen year olds and--"
"Rachel," Mike interrupts. "It's fine. I understand. And I agree. It just makes sense."
"Oh. Good."
…
Thursday they dive right into the dancing. Since the class is supposed to be an intense introduction to different types of dance, Mike and Rachel continue with the partner dances. They start with the Cakewalk, followed by Salsa and the Jitterbug. Then Bobby asks about swing and they spend the rest of the class working on various dips and spins. Everyone wants to try lifts, but it's agreed it's not particularly safe.
The class runs a little long because they lose track of time. Rachel glances at the clock on the wall and sees it's 3:05. Everyone grabs a bottle of water from the cooler Rachel brought and gathers their things.
Looking around, Rachel sees a couple people waiting in the doorway. She's worried that someone else needs the space and they're using up their time. But when Tim greets one woman as mom, Rachel assumes they're there to pick up the kids.
Rachel's putting the CDs away when she hears an excited, "Rachel?"
She turns to find Kat, holding the wrist of a brunette about Rachel's age.
"Hello Kat," Rachel greets. "I hope today's class was satisfactory for you."
Kat nods, giggling. "You talk kinda weird."
"So I've been told."
"I wanted you to meet my sister. Rachel, this is Alyson."
"Rachel Berry," Rachel says holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Alyson Tyler," she replies. "And the pleasure is all mine." Alyson smirks. "My sister has been talking about how awesome you are."
"Oh. Well. Thank you." Rachel tries not to blush. "But Kat's a pretty amazing tapper. She really impressed me Tuesday."
"Seriously?" Kat asks, a grin spreading on her face. She turns to Alyson. "That is so awesome."
Rachel looks to Alyson.
"Oh, well, Kat and I heard you sing, Don't Rain on My Parade at sectionals the year before. Our neighbor's son goes to Haverbrook. Kat thinks you're awesome."
"Oh.
"She was pretty excited Tuesday after she found out you were one of her teachers."
“Oh. Well color me flattered.”
"We should go," Alyson says. "I'm sure Rachel has things to do. And besides, I remember there being talk of ice cream after class?"
"We're going to get ice cream, Rachel," Kat informs her. "Wanna come?"
"I'm sure Rachel already has plans," Alyson protests.
"Mike and I were just going to get coffee," Rachel tells them. She turns and sees Mike gathering his things. "Hey Mike. Wanna get ice cream with Kat and her sister?"
"Only if I can get sprinkles," Mike replies.
"We don't want to intrude," Alyson says.
"You're not," Rachel assures her. "Who can say no to ice cream?"
…
The ice cream parlor is only five minutes away from the community center, so they decide to walk. Kat manages to ask over two dozen questions during the walk that Rachel patiently answers.
"I didn't think it was possible, Rach," Mike says when they finally arrive. "But she talks more than you do."
"Quiet you."
They get in line and are all too soon sitting at a table.
"What'd you get Rachel?" Mike asks, belatedly remembering Rachel's veganism.
"Oh, they have some vegan friendly products here," Rachel explains. "I convinced them several years ago that it would be in their best interest to stock it."
Mike shakes his head with a smile. "You are something else, Berry."
"Jealous, Chang?"
"You're vegan?" Kat asks.
Rachel nods. "I just don’t feel right eating animal related products."
"Oh." Kat thinks for a moment. "I wonder if I should be vegan too?"
"Though I believe it's the right choice," Rachel says. "I recommend researching what exactly it entails before deciding. It's a commitment."
"Okay."
They chitchat as they eat. Rachel and Mike talk about glee and McKinley a bit. In turn they learn that Alyson just finished her freshman year at the University of Pittsburgh and that she went to the all girls Catholic school, St. Rose; which explains why Mike or Rachel haven't met her before.
"Poor Kat goes there next year," Alyson says. "I'm trying to convince the folks that public is better, but to no avail."
"I disagree," Rachel says. "I wouldn't recommend McKinley to anyone."
Alyson looks shocked. "What?"
"It's just… McKinley is a school with a hierarchy," Rachel tries to explain. "If you don't fit in, you're at the bottom and trust me, it's not a fun place to be."
Alyson looks to Mike. He just nods.
"What does that mean?" Kat asks.
Rachel sighs. "Teenagers aren't always the nicest to people that are different."
"Is it because you're so awesome?" Kat asks.
Mike bursts out laughing. "Rachel certainly thinks so."
Rachel blushes. "Shut up, Mike."
"I guess I'll stop bugging my folks, then," Alyson says, not knowing what else to say.
"I have no idea what private school is like," Rachel says. "I'm simply saying that McKinley will teach a person harsh lessons. Possibly before they're ready."
"Noted."
"But it's summer and I'd rather not talk about school," Rachel continues. "How about you Kat? What do you think of eighth grade?"
Part Two
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Mike, Quinn, Brittany, Puck, Kurt, Mercedes, Artie, OCs: Alyson Tyler, Tomás Lopez, Clara Lopez, Felix Lopex, Marisa Lawson, Kat Tyler, Missy Watters, Wendy Kory, Josh Tyler
Rating: barely R
Summary: "So I think a significant amount of time has passed," Rachel says. "To set Quinn up on a blind date."
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~18,050
Spoilers: previous stories in the series.
A/N: Okay, so this story references a story that hasn't been written yet. It's the second of three summer fics, but I wanted to write this one first since I didn't want to leave Quinn pinning anymore. So this one technically follows Just Use a Damn Umbrella, but they'll be another one that happens chronically first. Also, I am working on the part 2 of the future trilogy, but apparently am easily distracted.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
series masterlist
Summer in Lima is exactly as Santana remembers it. They were only gone for a week, but it feels like longer. It's late Saturday night when they return and so Santana spends the night at Rachel's.
It's nice to be alone with her girlfriend. Brittany's her best friend and Puck's not the worst guy she knows, but she missed having some one on one time with Rachel. If Santana didn't already know how whipped she was, she would now, since one on one time doesn't necessarily mean sex.
…
Which isn't to say they don't spend most of Sunday in bed. Santana wakes up to coffee and Rachel crawling back into bed.
"Thanks," she grumbles, sipping the hot liquid.
Rachel nods as she drinks her tea and flips through the paper.
It's sickenly domestic; and while that used to scare the shit of Santana, she's instead decided to embrace it. Brittany's told her again and again that she and Rachel belong together and she should just go with it.
"Besides, everyone already thinks you're whipped. But they're still scared of you. So what does it matter."
Santana can concede that point; which is why she sets down her coffee mug and straddles Rachel.
"Santana," Rachel scolds. "What have I said about interrupting me when I'm reading the Sunday New York Times?"
"That it's not allowed?" Santana teases. "Sorry, babe, but I wanted a good morning kiss." She leans in, half expecting to be pushed away.
Rachel, with a fond smile on her face, shakes her head in amusement and pulls Santana closer. They kiss leisurely for a few moments before Rachel pulls away.
"Now may I finish reading?" she asks.
"Yes dear," Santana replies, sliding off her. She takes another sip of coffee and grabs a section of paper to read.
…
Sunday evening arrives too soon for Santana. Even if Rachel wasn't adamant about going, she'd still be going home for Sunday night dinner. After being gone a week, her mother would tar and feather her if she didn't show up. The fact that her parents let her go on a road trip with her girlfriend and two trouble making friends is still rather unbelievable.
They're a bit early; at Rachel's insistence. While Santana goes upstairs to put her things away, Rachel goes into the kitchen to say hello. She receives a hug from Clara and immediately offers to help with dinner.
"That would be lovely dear," Clara says. "But perhaps you could go say hello to Tomás first? And have your wayward girlfriend join you?"
"Certainly."
Rachel goes up to Santana's room and knocks on the door. She finds Santana putting things away.
"Your mother wanted me to remind you to say hello to your father once you're done up here."
"Seriously?" Santana asks without turning around. "By the time I'm done, it'll probably be time for dinner."
"Oh. Well, then I'm going to go say hello then, if you don't mind."
"Course, babe," Santana replies. "He'll probably be more excited to see you anyway."
"You know he just enjoys teasing you," Rachel tells her.
"Whatever you say, Rach."
Rachel just shakes her head and heads back downstairs.
"Hey sis," Felix greets her as she reaches the bottom of the stairs.
"Felix, hello," Rachel replies. "I see you're back from college."
"Indeed," he agrees. "Staying for the summer."
"I figured."
"Right. Of course." Felix shrugs. "So how was your trip?"
"Lovely. A nice get away," Rachel replies.
"Good. Going to see the old man?"
Rachel nods. "It was your mother's suggestion."
"Well don't let me stop you."
Rachel nods again and makes her way to Tomás' study. She knocks firmly twice and waits. When she receives permission to enter, she opens the door and slides inside.
"Hello Tomás," Rachel greets. "Clara suggested I stop in and say hello before dinner."
"Did she now?" Tomás asks, spinning around to face Rachel. "Well then I count myself lucky."
Rachel smiles. "It's nice to see you too. Though no more time has passed than the usual amount between my visits."
"That may be true," Tomás agrees. "But we expect to see you more, now that it's summer."
"Oh. Well, I'm not sure how possible that will be. Just because it's summer, doesn't mean I don't have a full schedule. I have various dance classes and vocal lessons, plus I'm helping a friend teach dance at the community center."
Tomás shakes his head. "Santana said you hate to be idle for too long."
"Idle hands are the devil's playground."
Tomás chuckles. "I suppose that's true."
"I'll let you get back to work, then," Rachel says. "I just wanted to say hi."
Tomás smiles. "I'll see you in a bit, Rachel."
…
The five of them sit down to dinner about fifteen minutes later. There's the usual chatter as everyone settles in and begins eating. Clara asks about the trip and Rachel fills in bits and pieces, saving Santana the effort. Which is probably good since her stories wouldn’t be as detailed or entertaining as Rachel's. Plus, Santana has a tendency to not censor herself, which considering the company, may have embarrassed Rachel.
"So now that you're back, it'll be a lazy summer?" Felix asks. "Sanny here, is always a lazy ass over the summer."
"Language, Felix," Clara says.
"Hardly," Rachel says. "Because it's the summer before our final year of high school, being lethargic is out of the question. I still have plenty of voice and dance to attend this summer. Not to mention I'm helping out Mike with the dance class he's teaching at the community center."
"Mike?"
"Chang," Santana answers.
"Oh, yes," Clara says. "Another polite young person I can't believe associates with you."
"Nice mom," Felix chuckles
"Thanks," Santana snaps.
"And Santana still has Cheerios," Rachel continues. "I realize that doesn’t start immediately, but once it does, Coach Sylvester is quite the slave driver."
"True," Tomás agrees. "That woman is what you get when a drill sergeant and a Doberman Pinscher reproduce."
"Actually her mother's a Nazi hunter," Rachel throws out. "Which I think explains a lot."
"It does actually," Clara agrees. She turns to Santana. "And so what exactly are your plans this summer?"
"Hanging with Rachel," Santana answers. "Cheerios starts back up in August."
"So what? You're going to lounge around Rachel's house and distract her?"
Santana shrugs. "Basically."
"You're not spending your whole summer over there, Santana," Clara tells her. "You're only spending Saturday nights over there. You'll still come to dinner Sunday night and Rachel can stay over here. But that's it."
"Mom."
"You'll still have your usual summer curfew, otherwise," Clara continues.
"But I'm doing it for Rachel," Santana protests.
"Oh?"
"With her dads not being around that much, I don't want her to be alone," she explains. "At least during school, she sees other people during the day. But in summer, she'll just be seeing her teachers."
"And Mike," Rachel adds.
"Quiet you," Santana shushes. "You don't want her alone all the time, do you?"
"What about Brittany or Mike or that Puckerman boy?"
"Well, yeah, there's those guys, but…"
"Awww, little Santana doesn't want to be away from her girlfriend," Felix teases. "So adorable. Who knew you were such a--ow! C'mon San, that hurt."
"Whatever, wuss."
"Santana, what did you do?" Rachel asks.
"I just reminded him that I'm tougher than he is," she replies.
"Santana, don't kick your brother," Clara says, sounding tired. "You're both too old for that."
"I will never be too old to kick him," Santana retorts.
Rachel tries to hide her chuckle in her napkin, but the smirk on Santana's lips tell her she wasn't terribly successful.
"Lord give me strength," Clara says. "You two will never grow up, will you?"
"Nope," Santana answers, unapologetically.
"Sorry mom," Felix mumbles.
"Suck up," Santana mutters.
"What are you doing this summer, Felix?" Rachel asks.
"Got my usual summer job, hang out with a few guys from high school and as little as possible."
It amuses Rachel how similar Felix and Santana can be. She wonders if they realize. Judging by the smirk on Clara's face, Rachel doesn't think they have yet.
"Well, we should hang out too," Rachel tells him.
"That'd be cool."
"What?" Santana interjects. "No way."
"Why not?"
"Because. Because he's Felix," Santana protests.
"That really isn't an argument Santana," Rachel tells her.
"Whatever. We'll talk about it later."
"Whatever you say, dear," Rachel replies.
…
Rachel insists on going back to her place to grab a few things and Felix offers to go with her. The only thing that stops Santana from protesting is a glare from her mother. So while her girlfriend and pain in the ass older brother head back to Rachel's, Santana helps clean up dinner.
"What?" Santana asks after feeling her father's eyes on her for five minutes.
"It's nice to have you back," he replies.
"Sheesh, papa, we were only gone a week."
"Believe it or not, but your mother and I enjoy having you around," Tomás tells her.
"You mean cause of Rachel?"
"Maybe," Tomás says. "I think she brings out a lot of good things in you. And vice versa."
"Yeah?" Santana asks. "Cause some days it seems like you really do like her best."
Tomás chuckles. "San, we love Rachel because you do. And honestly, we love you together. I can finally relax a bit because I don't have to worry about you. I know Rachel will take care of you."
"I can take care of myself."
"But isn't it nice to let someone else, every once in a while?"
Not meeting his eyes, Santana says, "Yeah."
"Then maybe you could do what your mother asked?" Tomás asks. "And be around a bit more this summer? Rachel's always welcome."
"I know."
"Good."
…
The knock on her door Tuesday morning is a surprise. Looking at the clock tells Rachel it's too early to be Santana. She's just gotten back from a voice lesson and isn't expecting anyone.
It's Mike who greets her with a surprising hug which she returns with a smile.
"Did you have a good time?" Mike asks as he follows her into the kitchen.
"I did," Rachel replies. "Drink?"
"Water is fine."
Rachel grabs two bottles out of the fridge. Handing one to Mike, she joins him at the table.
"I was hoping you'd have time to talk about the class a bit," Mike says. "First one is next week."
"Of course," Rachel replies. "I've got it written down. Tuesday and Thursday from one to three."
"Great." Mike pulls out a notebook and spreads it on the table. "So here's what I was thinking."
…
Santana doesn't show up until almost two p.m. She just misses Mike who stayed for lunch and conversation before taking off. Like her, he continues to take classes during the summer and so he had to leave, but promised they'd hang out later in the week.
Rachel knows that Santana's slothfulness is because for ten months of the year, she's dealing with Coach Sylvester's severe schedule. She understands why Santana wants to sleep in; Rachel just misses her. She feels a bit pathetic. They just spend a whole week together. Not to mention they spend Saturday and Sunday night together. She should be able to survive for a few hours.
How the hell is she going to survive college?
…
Wednesday, Brittany shows up before Santana does. Rachel is rather delighted since she hasn’t seen the blonde since they returned Saturday night. And after a week of constant exposure, it’s odd to go days without seeing her.
Rachel is up in her room looking over the information Mike gave her about the class they're teaching when Brittany knocks on the door, before opening it and stepping into the room.
“Hi Rachel,” Brittany greets.
“Hi Britt,” Rachel replies. “I’d ask how you got in, but it’s probably better I don’t.” She sets down the packet of paper and faces Brittany.
Brittany shrugs. “Okay.”
“So what brings you by?”
“I missed you Rachy.”
“Thanks, Brittany,” Rachel replies. “I admit it has felt rather odd not seeing you after so much exposure.”
“Santana still sleeping?”
“I guess.”
“I thought for sure, S would be here, Rach,” Brittany says. “I was kinda hoping to kill two cats with one stone. How come she didn’t spend the night?”
“Not allowed.”
“Really?”
“Indeed,” Rachel tells her. “Clara and Tomás, considering all they know, have been fairly lax for parents. Don’t you think?”
“I suppose so.”
“And I can spend time over there,” Rachel continues. “If the house is getting too empty. It’s just Santana’d rather not.”
“Well, I’m sure if you asked post orgasm, she’d agree,” Brittany says.
“I’m sure she would,” Rachel agrees. “But it seems unnecessary. I’m fairly busy during the summer and it’s really only at night does the house get lonely.”
“Well then you should spend the night at Santana’s.”
“Maybe,” Rachel allows. “We’ll see how it goes.”
"Or you could come over and spend the night with me," Brittany continues. "We can totally cuddle. S won't mind."
."That could be fun."
…
When Santana eventually shows up, Brittany suggests they all go to the park. Santana doesn't protest, but when they get to the park, she stretches out on a bench and waves away Rachel and Brittany's attempts to have her join them.
Brittany and Rachel swing for a bit, before literally dragging Santana off the bench and having fun with them. They spend a couple hours running around like little kids.
…
Thursday, Rachel is trying out a new vegan carrot cake recipe because she’s determined to get Santana to admit to liking a vegan recipe out loud. Which of course means Santana just asks if something’s vegan before she comments on it. Rachel tried lying once, but apparently Santana can tell that she’s lying; which Rachel finds extremely inconvenient.
The knock on her door is once again a surprise. She’s so used to being in her own little world at home that it always surprises her when someone else wants to intrude. Wiping her hands on a towel, she goes to answer it.
Opening the door reveals, Felix.
“Hey Rachel.”
“Felix, what a lovely surprise,” Rachel replies. “I’m assuming you’re not looking for Santana?”
“No,” Felix agrees. “That lazy bum is still sleeping.”
“She barely sleeps during the school year,” Rachel defends. “What with Cheerios and glee and school.”
Felix just shakes his head, with a smirk. “You two.” He follows Rachel into the kitchen.
“Excuse the mess, I was baking,” Rachel says. “So what brings you by?”
“I was hoping we could hang out a bit, before Santana rolled out of bed,” Felix replies. “I have to work in a couple hours, but maybe lunch?”
“That sounds lovely,” Rachel tells him. “And you can keep me company while I finish up this carrot cake. I’m just about done and then I can scrounge something up for lunch.”
“That seems unfair,” Felix says. “I didn’t come over here to be fed.”
“Well, the cake takes approximately forty minutes,” Rachel replies. “Is that too long of wait?”
“I could go get something and bring it back,” Felix offers. “Or maybe delivery?”
“That seems like a lot of effort for a simple lunch,” Rachel says. “What if I just make sandwiches? We have non vegan things. Neither of my fathers is.”
“Are you sure?” Felix asks. “I just wanted to hang out. It’s just between work and your lessons, this is the only time that really worked.”
“It’s fine, Felix,” Rachel assures him. “I appreciate the visit, no matter what.”
“Well if you’re sure,” Felix allows. “Then a sandwich would be great.”
“Super,” Rachel smiles.
…
Santana gets amusingly huffy when she finds out that Rachel had lunch with Felix.
"I don't see what the big deal is," Rachel says.
"Rach, it's my brother. He's… I don't know, but I guess it's weirding me out a bit, still, how much my family likes me."
"Because I'm so unlikable?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Santana scoffs. "Because, as I'm sure my parents have already told you, they never really liked anyone else. Not that anyone's really been steady enough for them to like."
"What about Brittany?"
"Brittany's different."
"True enough.
…
Noah shows up Friday afternoon intent on having a party at her place. She refuses, not trusting her classmates in her house.
"Okay. What about a few choice people then?" Noah tries.
"I don’t know what that means."
"Like glee. That freshman--"
"Technically she'd be a sophomore now," Rachel interrupts.
"A couple guys from the team that don’t suck. A Cheerio or two besides our girls. "C'mon."
"Fine. But if anyone shows up that I disapprove of, you will be throwing them out. Or else."
"Absolutely, bro. I can do that. With pleasure."
"It's already four, though," Rachel points out. "Kind of short notice."
"It's summer in Lima," Noah retorts. "Like there's something better going on."
Rachel can concede that point.
…
Surprisingly, only about twenty people show up. Which Rachel considers a triumphant, since half of them are from glee. It's small and causal and so Rachel doesn't feel too worried about how things will turn out. She decides to indulge.
In the kitchen, she finds Noah and asks him to find her a drink. His answering grin is devious and dangerous. He grabs a red plastic cup and starts adding small amounts of various liquors. He grabs a spoon and mixes it vigorously.
"Drink this first."
"What is it?" Rachel asks, accepting the cup.
"An acid cookie," Noah replies. "You need a shot before you can start properly drinking."
"Noah, just because I requested an alcoholic beverage, doesn't mean--"
"Rach, bro, trust me. Just down the damn thing and then I'll make you an actual drink."
"Very well." Rachel quickly swallows the contents of the cup.
Noah snatches the red cup back and begins to add a few more ingredients before stirring briskly. He returns to cup to Rachel.
Rachel takes a tentative sip. It's not bad.
"What is this?"
"A Red Headed Slut," Noah smirks.
"You just want to hear me say slut all night, don't you?"
"Well, we have the ingredients," Noah replies. "Besides, I bet by the time you finish that one, you'll have no problem saying slut. Your tolerance sucks."
"We can't all have the tolerance of a functional alcoholic, Noah," Rachel tells him. "But thank you for the drink."
"No prob, bro."
…
Rachel is gliding out of the kitchen when a familiar face opens the door.
“Marisa, hi,” Rachel greets. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Hi Rach,” Marisa replies, gesturing to the two people on right. “I hope it’s okay that I brought some people.”
“Of course,” Rachel tells her, throwing her arms up and out. “The more the merrier.”
“Are you drunk?” Marisa asks.
“Not quite,” Rachel answers. “So who’d you bring?”
“Oh, well, this is Tom Mercer and Beatrice Swann. Fellow theater geeks.”
“Awesome. Glad you could make it guys.”
Artie suddenly appears at Rachel’s side. “Hey Rach, did you know that-hey, Tom, man. What’s up?”
“Hey Artie.”
“This guy,” Artie says, pointing to Tom. “Is like the most awesome piano player ever.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. He’s in jazz band with me. Can’t sing for shit, but man can he play.”
“Thanks,” Tom says.
“Well you guys, go have fun,” Rachel says. She turns to Artie. “So what’s up?”
“Oh. Well, I was just giving you a heads up. There’s a couple Cheerios looking for you.”
“Um, well, considering who’s here, I’m not too concerned,” Rachel replies. “But thanks for the heads up.”
"I'm just saying, Rachel," Artie continues. "Anything could happen."
"Did Noah make you a drink?"
Artie nods enthusiastically. "I've had two already."
"Well maybe you want to take a short hiatus before the next one? Because they seem quite strong."
"That's half the fun, though, right?"
…
"Berry."
"Quinn. What an unexpected surprise."
"Yeah, well, Puck insisted."
“It’s not so bad.”
“Yeah, summer in Lima. Woo hoo.”
“Why does alcohol make you so melancholy?” Rachel asks.
“Bad associations,” Quinn retorts.
“You act like that’s the only time you’ve drank,” Rachel tells her.
Quinn shoots Rachel a dirty look. Rachel ignores it. "I know it's probably going to get shot down, but if you ever want to hang out, I'd very much welcome that."
Quinn sighs. "We'll see."
"It doesn't have to just be you and me. Maybe us, Britt and San can see a movie or something."
"I said, we'll see, Berry."
"Fair enough."
…
Rachel is talking with Marisa, Beatrice, and Tom when she feels eyes on her. She tries to ignore it, assuming the alcohol is making her a bit paranoid. But finally she can't handle it and lets her eyes search the room. Eventually her gaze falls onto two Cheerios; the blonde licks her lips and winks. Recognizing them as the pair that propositioned her, Rachel ducks her head and strives to avoid eye contact.
Listening to Tom, Beatrice and Tom exchange stories, Rachel wonders if she should have done more theater in her high school career. With all her lessons, there never seemed to be any time. And unlike the football team, McKinley's theater department was actually pretty decent.
…
Without intending to, Rachel finds herself drunk. It crept up on her because all of a sudden she's leaning against a wall, clutching her cup while watching Santana and Brittany on the dance floor. And even though another threesome with Brittany never really occurred to her, it now seems to be the only thing on Rachel's mind. She tightens her grip on her cup as she tries to slow her breathing; causally glancing around shows that at least no one noticed.
"Hey girl."
"Oh, hi Mercedes. Kurt." Rachel turns slightly to face the pair. "Having a good time?"
"I must say, Rachel," Kurt starts. "You throw a decent shindig."
"Hmmm. Noah's going to be disappointed. He wanted a party."
"And what exactly qualifies this as a shindig?" Mercedes asks.
"Well the definition of a shindig is dip, not quite mellow song stylings that is usually accompanied by large amounts of alcoholic beverages."
Mercedes looks around the room. "You just made that up from looking around."
"Tell me I'm wrong."
Mercedes just shakes her head and turns to Rachel. "So I assume you're in full diva mode this summer and doing your usual insane amount of classes?"
Rachel nods, knowing Mercedes is at least trying. "Yes. Talent must be fostered if it is to continue to grow properly."
"Summer is the time for relaxing and chilling."
"Which I already accomplished with the road trip," Rachel explains.
"Some days just watching you makes me tired," Kurt says.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Rachel replies.
"How come you're not out there dancing?" Mercedes asks.
"Santana and Brittany seem to be doing just fine on their own."
"I still don't understand those two," Kurt says. "Or you in relation."
"I'm not sure there's anything to get," Rachel replies.
"Just look at them," Kurt exclaims, sloshing a bit of his drink on his arm. "I mean, that kind of… It has to mean something."
"It speaks to a past sexual intimacy, I agree," Rachel says. "Emphasis on the word, past."
"Please don't say the words sexual intimacy in my presence ever again," Kurt tells her.
"Noted."
…
Sneaking outside for a bit of fresh air, Rachel sees Marisa stretched out on the grass, staring into the night sky.
"May I?" she asks.
"Course, Rach."
Rachel lays down next to Marisa, mimicking Marisa by putting her hands behind her head.
"Thanks for inviting me," Marisa says after a few moments of silence.
"Thank you for coming."
"I just needed a bit of air," Marisa explains. "I’m glad Tom and Beatrice came with me since I don't really know anyone else."
"I'm sorry, Marisa," Rachel says. "I didn't even think of that."
"Rachel, it's fine," Marisa interrupts. "You told me I could bring as many people as I like, so it's no big deal. But I'm the sober driver, so I needed a break from all the drunk people."
"I understand," Rachel replies. "Despite being inebriated myself, I felt the need for a break."
"You're the only teenager I know who would use the word inebriated to describe themselves."
"Intoxication is no excuse for improper speech. Though I admit it's take a bit more effort than usually to remain my usual loquacious self."
"Coulda fooled me."
They lay in silence, still staring into the sky.
"But you're having a good time?" Rachel asks, eventually breaking the silence.
"Yes, Rachel," Marisa says, a smile in her voice. "I’m having a good time."
…
Rachel returns inside to find Noah doing a series of shots while being encouraged by Finn, Mike and a couple of the nicer football players. Finishing, he is slapped on the back a dozen times before Finn shoves a beer in his hand. Turning, Noah spots Rachel.
"Bro!"
"Noah," she greets. "Congratulations on whatever it is you just accomplished."
"You're still too wordy to be properly smashed, Rach."
"Thank you?"
Noah grabs a few bottles, pouring them into the cup that's currently, thankfully, empty in her hand. It feels weirdly invasive.
"Drink that, bro," Noah tells her. "A shot. Double, actually."
"Noah, I don't need this."
"You do," he insists. "If you were wasted like you're supposed to be, you'd slam it, no thought."
Rachel just stares at him.
"C'mon, Rach," he says. "It's summer. Have a bit of fun."
"Fine," Rachel sighs. She quickly swallows the shot. It goes down smooth and sweet.
"That my dear," Noah says. "Was a brain destroyer. If I hear you using any more SAT words in twenty minutes, I'm going to consider you a hopeless case."
"The brain destroyer? What are you trying to accomplish? And for the last time, I will not be participating in a threesome with you."
"Do you know what Santana threatened to do to me the last time I asked?" Noah replies. "Trust me, I won't be asking that any time soon. I just want you properly bombed."
"You have very strange goals, Noah."
"I could say the same about you bro."
…
Rachel is washing her hands in the bathroom, when the shot hits her. Noah was right. It's like a wave crashed over her, leaving her most definitely drunk. It makes her want to continue being overly eloquent around him. There's nothing wrong with her need to remain articulate while inebriated.
Leaving the bathroom, she's ambushed and shoved back inside. The door is quickly locked and she is trapped. She’s about to scream, when she recognizes her attackers. It takes her another moment to place their names; Rachel blames it on the alcohol and the fact that they’re not in uniform.
“Missy. Wendy.”
Wendy’s grin grows. “You remember us.”
“I have an excellent memory,” Rachel replies. “Apparently, even when drinking.”
“Or we’re just that memorable,” Missy says, shyly, easing closer to Rachel.
“After all,” Wendy continues. “How many Cheerios do you have offering themselves to you?”
“Besides Lopez, of course,” Missy says.
And suddenly Rachel finds herself sitting on the counter, a Cheerio half straddling each leg.
“That’s true,” Rachel agrees, fighting the sexual haze that seems to have fallen over the bathroom. “But that’s okay since I don’t want any other Cheerios.”
“Really?” Missy asks. “Not even on a superficial level? I mean, we’re hot.”
“And bendy,” Wendy adds.
“Who isn’t?” Rachel scoffs.
Missy smirks as she and Wendy continue to press into Rachel. “Something to look forward to.” She bites her lip before pulling Rachel down to kiss her.
It’s warm and wet and in Rachel’s drunken state, she lets out a soft moan that allows Missy to slide her tongue against Rachel’s. She tastes like orange juice. They pull apart a few moments later to catch their breathes and Wendy quickly takes Missy’s place.
Rachel lets out another moan as Wendy's tongue thoroughly explores her mouth. Wendy tastes like beer and Rachel lets herself sink into the kiss as multiple hands glide over clothed skin. When a hand slides over a covered, but erect nipple, Rachel pulls away with a gasp.
Missy tries to take Wendy's place and lean in for another taste, but Rachel pulls back.
"Hold it, right there,' Rachel gasps, trying to fight the lust filled, alcoholic daze she's in. "What do you two think you're doing?"
The girls share a look. "It seems pretty obvious to me," Missy answers.
"And judging by your reaction," Wendy continues. "I think you already figured it out."
"I blame my lack of resistance on my large alcohol intake this evening," Rachel replies.
"You want us, Rachel," Missy says. "Why deny it?"
"Simple lust isn't enough for me to cheat."
Wendy grabs Missy's hand and begins sucking on her fingers. The lewd slurping is almost too much for Rachel to take. The expression on their faces is the dirtiest thing Rachel's seen in a long time. She fights to look away; both girls' eyes are full of promise.
"No matter how amazing or incredible it'll be," Rachel finishes.
"Come on," Missy pushes. "Lopez will never know."
"I can't," Rachel protests. "And it'll be written all over my face. Santana would know."
"Are you sure?" Wendy asks, before grabbing Missy and pull her in for a kiss. Rachel watches in awe as they grind against each other, moaning. She loses track of hands, but judging by their noise, they've gone to unmentionable places. A few heated moments later, they pull apart.
"God, no," Rachel says, swallowing several times. "But I won't do that to Santana." Rachel slips off the counter and pushes her way to the door. She unlocks the door and turns around. "I appreciate the offer, though." And slips out, slamming the door behind her.
"That was an impressive amount of restraint," Missy says.
Wendy nods. "Are we giving up?"
"Hell, no," Missy tells her. "We've still got a whole 'nother school year to try."
"I don't see why you care so much," Wendy says, turning to the mirror to fix her very smeared lipstick.
"Anyone who has Coach Sylvester's approval has to be awesome," Missy explains. "Plus, keeping Santana Lopez's interest in bed? Fucking tiger in the sack."
"You know Lopez is going to be pissed when she finds out."
"If she finds out," Missy replies. "Plenty happened that Rachel won't want to admit. It's possible she won't even mention it."
"I guess."
"You worry too much," Missy tells her. "We're Cheerios. What would Santana do to us?"
"Yeah. I guess you're right."
…
Rachel stumbles towards the kitchen for some water. Considering what just happened, sobering up seems like a good idea. It's late enough that people seem to be done drinking, so it's thankfully quiet in the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and heads back outside for some fresh air. She hopes there's no one out there because she could use some alone time.
Luckily, the back yard is empty, so Rachel walks to the fence and sits, leaning back against it as she sips water. It's clear out and so Rachel lets her mind wander. Specifically back to the bathroom. Now, away from temptation, it's easier for Rachel to berate her lack of control.
How is she going to tell Santana? A small part of her admits she could probably never tell her and no one would be the wiser. However, most of her, wants to tell Santana. Rachel doesn't want to have such a secret to keep; especially since they came on to her. Sure, she might have slipped a bit, but consider, can anyone blame her?
Rachel sighs. She knows it depends on whom she asked. Noah would ask for details and say it's not her fault. Actually, so would Brittany. Santana? Jealousy is usually the first response. She's going to have a lot of explaining to do. She just hopes it can wait until the light of day when they're both sober.
…
Brittany is the one that finds her.
"Rachy! Here you are. We've been looking all over for you."
By now, Rachel is mostly sober and tired. And perhaps a bit melancholy. She looks up at Brittany's smiling face and tries to smile back. "I seem to have lost track of time."
"That's okay. But it's time to sleep. C'mon."
Brittany pulls her up and drags her inside.
The kitchen isn't in disarray like Rachel expected. It's obvious some cleaning has happened. How long was she sitting outside?
"We've picked up all the trash and straightened things out best we can," Brittany explains. "So now it's just bed time. Right?"
Rachel nods. "Are you staying?" She goes to the refrigerator and pulls out bottles of water for the morning.
"Yep. Puck is staying too. S isn't happy about that, but he's definitely too drunk to go home. And it's too late for you to drive him home, so don't even offer."
"I'm too tired to, anyway, Brittany."
And so she ends up in her bed with the three of them. Noah and Brittany are on the outside while Santana protectively spoons her.
…
Rachel wakes up warm and surrounded. Blinking against the sunlight because no one remembered to close the blinds, Rachel assesses her situation. She's Santana's little spoon, but it also seems that Noah is snuggling against her. Turning her head slightly, Rachel also sees that Brittany is wrapped around Santana. The four of them appear to be a pile of snugglers. It makes Rachel giggle.
It takes a great deal of effort, but Rachel finally manages to extract herself from the pile. She grabs a bottle of water and downs half it while walking towards the bathroom. Only intending to pee, she ends up taking a shower. Feeling immensely better, she heads downstairs.
In the kitchen, she brews coffee and rifles through the cupboards to see what she can make for breakfast. She finds all the ingredients for pancakes; both for her and for her non vegan cohorts. Glancing at the clock tells her they probably won't be up for a while, so she pours herself some coffee and heads to the living room. Turning on the TV, she tries to find something to watch.
…
Santana wakes up to the smell of coffee and pancakes. She's in between Puck and Brittany; which is no real surprise because who else but Rachel would be cooking. She pushes Puck off and reaches for a bottle of water. She downs the whole thing in about two minutes and climbs out of bed.
Downstairs she finds Rachel at the stove, humming and swaying slightly. Santana lets herself smile as she watches. She'd never say it out loud, but she'll occasionally have daydreams of her future that involve her wife Rachel cooking her breakfast.
"Hey babe," Santana says, announcing herself.
"Morning tiger," Rachel returns. "Just in time for some hot off the stove pancakes."
"Thanks." Santana walks to the coffee pot and pours herself a mug full. She then sits at the table and puts a couple of cakes on her plate.
Rachel joins her a few minutes later, setting the rest of the pancakes on the table. Santana watches Rachel sip a glass of almond milk before digging into her own vegan friendly pancakes.
"God, woman," Santana groans as she eats. "Even if you sucked in bed, I'd ask you to marry me, just for these pancakes."
"Thank you," Rachel replies, dryly.
"Lucky for me, you fuck even better than you cook."
"Again. Thank you."
Santana smirks. "You know you love it."
"Eat your pancakes, Santana."
…
Rachel waits until Noah and Brittany have taken off before telling Santana about her Cheerio bathroom encounter the previous night. It's not a pleasant conversation.
They're watching TV in the living room when Rachel decides to bring it up.
"San," Rachel starts. "We need to talk."
"Bout what babe?"
"Santana, this is serious." Rachel grabs the remote and mutes the TV. "I need to tell you something." Rachel pulls away from Santana; they'd been cuddling.
"All right," Santana says slowly, apprehension obvious on her face.
"As you know, last night, I consumed far more alcohol than I intended, at Noah's prompting."
Santana nods.
"I was most definitely intoxicated. So when I was propositioned in the bathroom last night, I admit that I didn't react properly."
"What. The. Fuck. Does that mean?"
"I was leaving the bathroom, but was pushed back inside and trapped. A, uh, threesome was then offered and I was kissed before I could respond."
"Oh."
"And I kissed back. Both of them. But then there were hands and I quickly put a stop to it. And then I fled the bathroom."
Santana jumps off the couch and begins pacing.
"I am so sorry. I take full responsibility. I'm not blaming the alcohol, but I do admit my inhibitions were lowered a bit. But I don't want anyone but you. It's just difficult to resist when a pretty girl kisses you."
Santana still doesn't say anything.
"That's no excuse. You're right. I'm a horrible person." Rachel feels tears forming and does her best to sniffle quietly.
Santana sighs and rejoins Rachel on the couch. "Don't cry, babe, you know I hate that." Santana pulls Rachel in for a hug. "You're not a horrible person. You're right, it is difficult to resist a kiss when you've been drinking. Brittany and I traded a few kisses last night on the dance floor."
"Brittany's different," Rachel sniffs.
Santana chuckles sardonically. "That's definitely true. But I still kissed someone who wasn't you. And you have to admit if you hadn't been propositioned last night, you'd be a little upset. Or at least hurt."
"Maybe."
"If anything, I should be pissed at whoever kissed you. I mean, everyone knows you're mine. I mean that we're dating."
"It's fine, San," Rachel assures her. "I know what you meant. I am yours and vice versa. Right?"
"Right. Exactly," Santana nods.
"So we're okay?"
"We're okay, babe."
…
The rest of the weekend goes well. Surprisingly, Santana doesn't push Rachel to reveal who hit on her. Rachel spends half of Saturday on edge, waiting for the question, but it never comes. It's possible that Santana already knows; there were only so many people at the party and a number of them can be immediately eliminated. Rachel tries not to worry.
Instead, she tries to analyze her feelings about Santana and Brittany kissing. It certainly feeds into her almost constant underlying fear of losing Santana to Brittany. She knows it's highly improbable, but the fear is always there and may always be. What keeps it at bay is the knowledge that Brittany wouldn't do that to her and that she truly trusts Santana.
And yet, if she hadn't kissed both Missy and Wendy, Rachel can admit that she would be a little hurt. Mostly because both Santana and Rachel agreed that while it had been fun to include Brittany, the two of them is all they need.
Still, they're both young and with the addition of alcohol, they're both going to make mistakes. The important thing is that they're able to work through things. The fact that they can, makes Rachel feel proud almost; in her mind, it bodes well for future conflicts.
…
Tuesday, Rachel wakes up a bit excited. She knows teaching twelve and thirteen year olds dance isn't going to necessarily be easy, but she enjoys a challenge. Besides, Rachel is looking forward to spending time with Mike. Their friendship has unexpectantly grown over the last few months. And watching Mike dance, it's poetry; besides the fact of how obviously he enjoys it.
She goes to her Tuesday voice lesson and is amazing. Rachel chalks it anticipation, but eagerly accepts her teacher's praise.
At home, she has lunch, cleans a bit and then sends Santana a text, reminding her that she won't be around until evening. Rachel knows it's possible that Santana will show up anyway and will be waiting for her. She doesn't mind. She has nothing to hide and Santana will most likely just watch TV since Rachel, according to Santana, gets much better channels.
Rachel can admit that her dads subscribe to an insane amount of channels for people that are never home. She wonders if it's for her benefit; more to keep her occupied. It's a mildly depressing thought.
…
She and Mike are meeting thirty minutes before class to set up, get settled, etc. As is her habit, Rachel is fifteen minutes early. She does a few stretches and tries to gather the necessary supplies that they're borrowing from the community center.
Mike appears five minutes later, grinning when he sees she's already arrived. Rachel just waves.
They don't speak for about fifteen minutes as they set everything up. Not that it's much, just a table, an iPod dock with speakers and some packets of information. They clear the room of everything else, so there's plenty of room to move.
Looking around the room, Rachel considers them ready and Mike agrees.
…
There are eight kids in the class; four boys and four girls. Rachel surprised that there are actually four teenage boys that would willingly take a summer dance class. But they all seem eager, so she doesn't question it.
They do introductions and talk about what the class is going to be like. Then they have each kid talk about their dancing experience and what they want to learn. Wanting to accomplish something, even if it's only the first day, Mike and Rachel pair up the kids and show them some simple partner dances like the waltz, foxtrot and some ballroom dancing.
Overall, they do well, though a couple of the boys seem to have trouble with the concept of leading, but Mike patiently helps them.
They have a bit of time left over and so they have each kid demonstrate some dance that they want to show off.
No one wants to go first, so Rachel, being the consummate performer she is, volunteers to go first. She locates her tap shoes and slips them on. Taking a deep breath, she begins the routine she performed at her last recital a few years ago.
"Hey, I can do that," Kat, an energetic brunette, calls out.
"Well come on up and show us," Rachel tells her.
Kat jumps up and runs to her bag. She pulls on tap shoes and ties them before joining Rachel at the front of the room.
Rachel starts the routine over, slowly, but Kat doesn't seem to need it and so Rachel continues at regular speed. When they finish, Rachel can admit to being impressed. Kat kept up with her the whole time; everything she did was crisp and clean. Rachel can hear her tap teacher complimenting Kat in her head.
They receive a big round of applause and Rachel curtseys as Kat bows slightly.
Kat then turns and hugs Rachel. "Thanks, Rachel. That was fun."
"For me as well."
They sit down and watch the rest of the kids dance. Kat's performance seems to have taken away the nervousness as one by one the other jump up to show off what they know.
June is next and she does some simple ballet moves. Ben jumps up next and does some jazz moves that remind Rachel a lot of West Side Story. Sara is next and she does some jazz moves more reminiscent of Fosse. Bobby is next and he does a quick Irish step dance, blushing the whole time. Tim jumps up and motions Amy to join him. They do a Cakewalk, though it's a bit sloppy, Rachel's still impressed. Harry's last and he puts on tap shoes as well. His routine isn't as complex, but his form is good and it's obvious that he enjoys it and so when he sits down, he gets quite a bit of applause.
Looking at the time, Mike ends the class. Rachel is putting her tap shoes away when she notices Kat standing next to her.
"Hello."
"Hi Rachel."
"What can I do for you, Kat?"
"We'll be doing some tap in this class, right?"
"Of course. Mike and I would be remiss if we left tap out."
"Cool."
"You're an excellent tapper."
"Thanks. My teacher, Mr. Miller says I have a good tap eye. Oh and instincts."
"I would agree with that. You picked that up pretty quick."
"Oh, well, I've been working on something kinda similar, so I think that made it easier."
"Really? That is rather impressive."
"Thanks Rachel. I better go. My sister's probably looking for me. See you Thursday." Clenching her bag, the girl runs out, waving over her shoulder.
"Bye Kat."
"Someone's made a friend, I see," Mike says, appearing next to Rachel.
"Did you see her tap?" Rachel asks. "That's natural talent."
"Most definitely," Mike agrees. "I think this is going to be a fun group."
"I do as well."
"So what's next? You have anything you have to do?"
"Not really. Are you busy?"
"Nope."
"Want to hang out?"
"Sounds fun."
…
Rachel decides they should hang out after every class. Mike agrees.
"I don't mean to be pushy," Rachel says. "It's just, I figured it would be the easiest this way, since we're already together. It makes sense. And we've both said we'd like to hang out more. And though tiresome, sometimes, my summer schedule is rather packed. And it's not that I don't enjoy teaching with you, because I do. But it's just we're surrounded by eight thirteen year olds and--"
"Rachel," Mike interrupts. "It's fine. I understand. And I agree. It just makes sense."
"Oh. Good."
…
Thursday they dive right into the dancing. Since the class is supposed to be an intense introduction to different types of dance, Mike and Rachel continue with the partner dances. They start with the Cakewalk, followed by Salsa and the Jitterbug. Then Bobby asks about swing and they spend the rest of the class working on various dips and spins. Everyone wants to try lifts, but it's agreed it's not particularly safe.
The class runs a little long because they lose track of time. Rachel glances at the clock on the wall and sees it's 3:05. Everyone grabs a bottle of water from the cooler Rachel brought and gathers their things.
Looking around, Rachel sees a couple people waiting in the doorway. She's worried that someone else needs the space and they're using up their time. But when Tim greets one woman as mom, Rachel assumes they're there to pick up the kids.
Rachel's putting the CDs away when she hears an excited, "Rachel?"
She turns to find Kat, holding the wrist of a brunette about Rachel's age.
"Hello Kat," Rachel greets. "I hope today's class was satisfactory for you."
Kat nods, giggling. "You talk kinda weird."
"So I've been told."
"I wanted you to meet my sister. Rachel, this is Alyson."
"Rachel Berry," Rachel says holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Alyson Tyler," she replies. "And the pleasure is all mine." Alyson smirks. "My sister has been talking about how awesome you are."
"Oh. Well. Thank you." Rachel tries not to blush. "But Kat's a pretty amazing tapper. She really impressed me Tuesday."
"Seriously?" Kat asks, a grin spreading on her face. She turns to Alyson. "That is so awesome."
Rachel looks to Alyson.
"Oh, well, Kat and I heard you sing, Don't Rain on My Parade at sectionals the year before. Our neighbor's son goes to Haverbrook. Kat thinks you're awesome."
"Oh.
"She was pretty excited Tuesday after she found out you were one of her teachers."
“Oh. Well color me flattered.”
"We should go," Alyson says. "I'm sure Rachel has things to do. And besides, I remember there being talk of ice cream after class?"
"We're going to get ice cream, Rachel," Kat informs her. "Wanna come?"
"I'm sure Rachel already has plans," Alyson protests.
"Mike and I were just going to get coffee," Rachel tells them. She turns and sees Mike gathering his things. "Hey Mike. Wanna get ice cream with Kat and her sister?"
"Only if I can get sprinkles," Mike replies.
"We don't want to intrude," Alyson says.
"You're not," Rachel assures her. "Who can say no to ice cream?"
…
The ice cream parlor is only five minutes away from the community center, so they decide to walk. Kat manages to ask over two dozen questions during the walk that Rachel patiently answers.
"I didn't think it was possible, Rach," Mike says when they finally arrive. "But she talks more than you do."
"Quiet you."
They get in line and are all too soon sitting at a table.
"What'd you get Rachel?" Mike asks, belatedly remembering Rachel's veganism.
"Oh, they have some vegan friendly products here," Rachel explains. "I convinced them several years ago that it would be in their best interest to stock it."
Mike shakes his head with a smile. "You are something else, Berry."
"Jealous, Chang?"
"You're vegan?" Kat asks.
Rachel nods. "I just don’t feel right eating animal related products."
"Oh." Kat thinks for a moment. "I wonder if I should be vegan too?"
"Though I believe it's the right choice," Rachel says. "I recommend researching what exactly it entails before deciding. It's a commitment."
"Okay."
They chitchat as they eat. Rachel and Mike talk about glee and McKinley a bit. In turn they learn that Alyson just finished her freshman year at the University of Pittsburgh and that she went to the all girls Catholic school, St. Rose; which explains why Mike or Rachel haven't met her before.
"Poor Kat goes there next year," Alyson says. "I'm trying to convince the folks that public is better, but to no avail."
"I disagree," Rachel says. "I wouldn't recommend McKinley to anyone."
Alyson looks shocked. "What?"
"It's just… McKinley is a school with a hierarchy," Rachel tries to explain. "If you don't fit in, you're at the bottom and trust me, it's not a fun place to be."
Alyson looks to Mike. He just nods.
"What does that mean?" Kat asks.
Rachel sighs. "Teenagers aren't always the nicest to people that are different."
"Is it because you're so awesome?" Kat asks.
Mike bursts out laughing. "Rachel certainly thinks so."
Rachel blushes. "Shut up, Mike."
"I guess I'll stop bugging my folks, then," Alyson says, not knowing what else to say.
"I have no idea what private school is like," Rachel says. "I'm simply saying that McKinley will teach a person harsh lessons. Possibly before they're ready."
"Noted."
"But it's summer and I'd rather not talk about school," Rachel continues. "How about you Kat? What do you think of eighth grade?"
Part Two