Let Me Sing to You Tonight: The Last Thing on Your Mind
Title: Let Me Sing to You Tonight
Pairing: Rachel Berry&&Quinn Fabray
Rating: T
Part: 4/10
Previous parts: | 1 | 2| 3|
Disclaimer: This is a work of my own mind, and reflects nothing of the included characters I've borrowed from the lucky ass who owns them. In other words, this is for fun, don't sue me!
Author's Note: Here’s the fourth part! I can’t wait to hear what you guys think?
The Last Thing on Your Mind - Lights
Quinn leaned towards the mirror, applying what was sure to be her fourth coat of mascara that evening.
“Seriously, Fabray! Are you really putting on more makeup?” Santana exclaimed, pecking Brittany on the cheek as she sat down next to the blonde. “You really are sprung on this girl, aren’t you? When is she coming over?”
Quinn shook her head, setting aside the tube of mascara, and straightened up. “She’s going to meet us there in exactly…twenty five minutes. Shit.”
Brittany groaned, dropping her head into the crook of Santana’s neck. “This means that I have to go through more of that crazy driving, don’t I?”
Santana clambered out of Quinn’s truck, falling to her knees and clutching the loose pebbles of the pavement. “I am never going to let you drive Brittany or I anywhere else again!”
“S-Sa-San?” Brittany’s voice wavered from the backseat of the truck. “Can I open my eyes now?”
Snickering, Quinn exited her truck, opening the backdoor and pulling the poor girl out. “It’s New York, guys. I can’t be held responsible for the way I drive anymore.”
Holding a hand out to the Latina, Quinn helped the woman to her feet and grinned. “And if I do recall just a few years ago, someone called me and rather excitedly exclaimed that she had managed to hit 134 miles per hour in her new car.”
Brittany turned to Santana, eyes wide and frightened. “S, you told me that this was the first time you’d ever gone over the speed limit!”
The lawyer narrowed her eyes, completely unhappy at being found out, and turned to focus on showering her fiancée with affection and excuses so as to get out of trouble.
“Hi, Quinn.” A soft voice called out from behind the girls, catching their attention.
Quinn’s jaw immediately slackened, eyes catching sight of a very chic looking Rachel Berry. A hazel colored gaze followed up the lean legs, tripping over the woman’s mouthwatering hips, and dragged up to meet a blushing brown-eyed beauty. “You look…wow.”
“Thank you, Quinn. You look gorgeous as well, but that, of course, isn’t a rare event in the slightest.” Rachel replied, eyes briefly meeting the blonde’s before dropping down to the floor again, a soft smile on her lips.
Walking over, the musician encircled the girl in her arms, inhaling deeply as Rachel draped her arms around her neck. Quinn pulled away; keeping an arm wrapped protectively around the brunette’s waist and grinned at the other couple. “Brittany, Santana. This is Rachel Berry. Rach, these are my best friends.”
Santana nodded, acknowledging the other girl. The Latina had always been a little less reserved around other people which Quinn had warned Rachel about ahead of time via text. Brittany, on the other hand, danced over, pulling the brunette into her arms and squeezing her warmly.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Rachel! Quinn’s been talking nonstop about you for so long!” Brittany gushed, reaching back for Santana’s hand and linking their pinkies. “Santana almost hit her six times today because she wouldn’t stop talking about how amazing youmph-“
“As funny as this is, I’m going to stop this right here, because Quinnie, even I’m embarrassed for you.” Santana explained, removing her hand slowly from Brittany’s mouth. “Can we go inside now or are we going to stand out here and freeze our asses off? Our reservations are going to get cancelled if we don’t get in there and if I don’t get inside soon, I’m going to murder you in your sleep tonight, Blondie.”
“Charming, that one.” Rachel muttered, reaching for Quinn’s hand.
Nodding, Quinn laced her fingers with Rachel’s and led the way inside, bypassing the crowd and getting seated rather quickly.
Rachel’s eyes, bright and shining, took in the restaurant, similar to the way that Brittany was. Santana and Quinn exchanged glances, rolling their eyes at the way that their significant others were acting.
The actress, taking a sip of her water, cleared her throat before leaning in. “So tell me all about it. Who proposed? How did you do it? Have you two set a date yet?”
Santana’s forehead furrowed and Brittany’s hands flew up to her head as she exclaimed. “Are you a mind ninja?”
Rachel, very obviously embarrassed, backtracked quickly in an attempt to explain herself. “I just assumed that because you two were so affectionate with each other, that you were indeed an item and when I noticed that there were engagement rings on both your hands, that you one of you had proposed. I apologize profusely if I was wrong in assuming any of this because in hind sight, I can actually see there being many reasons why the both of you would be wearing rings and holding hands and-“
“Fuck me.” Santana whispered. “Do you not need to breathe, Berry?”
“Santana!” Quinn reprimanded to which the Latina shrugged.
“You can’t tell me that you did not notice how she didn’t take a breath during that entire fucking monologue.” The woman argued, leaning back and returning to the menu.
“S, I want fish and chips.” Brittany whined unhappily. “I can’t find any here.”
Quinn rolled her eyes, resting a hand on Rachel’s knee. “You’re right, baby. They’ve been dating since they were both juniors in high school. Santana proposed about a month ago and she did it in a hot air balloon. Champagne, romantic music, down on one knee, and everything.”
“She even cried a little!” Brittany inputted much to Santana’s dismay.
“I did not! The wind whipped my hair in my eyes. There was a fucking bug in my eye. The balloon guy ripped a nasty one?” Santana tried, sighing dejectedly. “Fine, I cried. But this gets out to no one. If I ever hear this out of anyone else’s mouth, you can be sure that I will hunt both of you down and make you die slow and painful deaths, or my name isn’t Santana fucking Lopez.”
Rachel’s laugh was as clear as day, loud and happy until she realized that no one was laughing along with her. Looking at the other occupants of the table, the brunette ventured. “Something tells me she’s not exactly joking around here.”
“I…no, Rach. She’s not.” Quinn cleared her throat as Brittany shook her head solemnly from across the table.
“Because of your profession in law, I hope you’re well aware of the repercussions of committing a homicide and that you would more than likely lose your license if you were to be found out. Also, incarcerated time would almost be inevitable and I highly doubt that Brittany would be in favor of only seeing her wife during…conjugal…visits?“ The brunette trailed off, meeting Santana’s glare and squeaking in fear, cowering behind the menu.
“I also very much like being alive, especially with an equally lively Quinn, and we all know that you’re quite the reasonable person with great taste, nonetheless. Is that Chanel that you’re wearing? No? Whatever it is, it’s fantastic.” Rachel appealed to no avail, hurriedly pulling up the menu again and disappearing behind it.
Smirking, Santana flicked the back of the menu, relishing in the startled shriek of the brunette.
“S, I thought your middle name was Maria.” Brittany asked, confused.
“Shhh, B. Not now.” The Latina soothed the blonde before snatching the arm of the nearest waiter. “Fish and chips. Tell your chef that he needs to make them right this very second.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m not in charge of your table, but I’ll grab your server and-“ The man stated politely.
“Fish. Chips. Now.” Santana interrupted, eyes fixed on her newly manicured nails.
“I- I don’t think that’s on the menu, ma’am. We do have a wonderful grilled salmon that you can-“ The waiter started, blatantly frightened by the outspoken woman.
“Are you not listening to me?” The Latina demanded, taking a hold of the man’s collar.
“I a-am, ma’am.” The server stammered.
“Get the damn cook. Tell him to take some fish. Drop it in some fucking egg wash, then some flour, and then in a pot of oil. Then tell him to take a fucking potato- you do have a fucking potato, don’t you….Joseph?” Santana asked casually, eyes flashing and grip tightening on the collar.
“Y-yes. We have potatoes.”
“Wonderful. Cut those potatoes. And drop those little fuckers into a different pot of oil. Not too hard, is it? Now get your ass moving. I’m timing you.” Santana finished, releasing the frightened man and leaning back in her chair. “There you go, Brit. Fish and chips, special order, just for you.”
Brittany smiled sweetly at the Latina, reaching over and taking her left hand, fingers playing with the ring glinting in the light. Santana’s eyes fluttered closed for a brief second and turned to kiss the blonde on the top of her head, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“I don’t know whether to fear for my life or find that entire exchange endearing.” Rachel whispered from behind her menu.
“Santana’s just got a different way of showing she cares.” Quinn whispered back.
“She’s got quite the mouth on her, huh?” Rachel continued, snickering.
Suddenly, the menu disappeared from in front of her and Santana was smirking dangerously at her. “Yes. I’ve got quite the fucking mouth on me.”
“I think it’s hot.” Brittany piped up.
“Oh, boy.” Quinn muttered, leaning to mumble in her girlfriend’s ear. “Twenty bucks says they end up doing it in the restaurant.”
“You mean sexual intercomph-“
“Volume, Rach. Watch the volume.” Quinn muttered, eying the volatile Latina across from her who was keeping a close eye on her watch.
The remainder of dinner passed by rather quickly, the couples getting along quite well. Sometime after dinner and before dessert arrived, Santana politely demanded that Brittany accompany her to the women’s restroom.
After five minutes had gone by, Quinn rolled her eyes. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
“Well, more power to them for getting a head start on burning this off.” Rachel grumbled, hands resting over her full stomach.
Smirking, Quinn leaned back, dropping her head onto the shorter brunette’s shoulder. “So how’d the audition go? Any idea on whether you got the part?”
Rachel’s jaw clenched briefly and Quinn sprung into action. “Oh, baby. You’ll get the next part. Don’t worry too much about it, okay? Did you get any part at all this time?”
The other girl shook her head. “I got called back for the main role.”
“Rachel, that’s great news!”
“Not really, Quinn. There’s about four other girls who have been called back for the same role.” Tightening up again, Rachel muttered. “I really thought I had this part. After everything I’ve done, I really did.”
Stroking the actresses’ arm, Quinn sighed. “This is a cutthroat business, Rach. We’ve got to work hard to get on top. Listen, I was wondering…”
“You can’t come to an audition, Quinn.”
“Why the hell not?” The blonde exclaimed. “For God’s sake, I’m not asking you to let me move in. I’m asking you to let me come to an audition of yours.”
Reaching over, Rachel gripped Quinn’s wrist. “Can you keep it down? You’re making a scene.”
The musician rolled her eyes, pulling away her wrist and whispering angrily. “I’m trying to be sweet, Rachel. Sweet and supportive like good girlfriends are! What is going on at those auditions that you don’t want me to see?”
“Nothing!”
“Then let me come.” Quinn demanded, eyes flashing. “I’ve got Kirsten asking me if you’re fucking people to get to the top!”
“Is that it? You want to come to this audition just so you can make sure I’m not using my body to get ahead?!” Rachel accused, her voice raising an octave.
“No!” Quinn denied. “I want to come so I can say stupid things about me being your good luck charm when you get the damn part!”
Rachel quieted and Quinn leaned back, folding her arms over her chest.
A few moments passed, the tension thick enough to stifle the air around the two women. The waiter Santana had terrorized hurried over to the table, bringing along two large sundaes. “Here you go. Please tell Miss Lopez that this is the fastest we’ve ever managed to make any of the items ordered.”
Quinn nodded at the waiter, “I’ll be sure to let her know.”
“You can come.” Rachel admitted, rather quietly.
“I don’t want to be there if you don’t want me to be there.” Quinn replied, looking anywhere but at the brunette.
“I want you to come, Quinn.” The brunette exhaled, brow furrowed as she attempted to word her thoughts. “It’s just that, the atmosphere there is certainly more different than the one you’re used to.”
“I don’t care.”
“Alright, okay.” Rachel tried to appease her. “I’ll need to get there earlier, but if you’d like to come around three thirty, the auditions will begin.”
Quinn took in a deep breath, dropping her arms and nodding tiredly. “I just want to be there for you.”
Lacing the blonde’s fingers with hers, Rachel smiled. “I know.”
“Oh look, S! Ice cream!” Brittany squealed, pulling the lawyer to the table excitedly.
“Where’s the waiter?” Santana asked. “The ice cream’s half melted.”
“San, you were inside fooling around. Leave the poor guy alone.” Quinn muttered, taking a spoonful of the ice cream in front of her. “Mmmm. Walnuts.”
Dessert was finished along with laughs and sweet touches. Santana grabbed the bill, glaring at anyone who made an attempt to even look at the check. After the waiter came back with her card, Santana slipped in a crisp fifty dollar bill, though she vehemently denied that it was nothing more than a five.
Quinn watched as Brittany oversaw the exchange approvingly, leaning in to give her fiancée a soft kiss and smiling adoringly at her.
“Q, can you take us home? We should get to the hotel because Brittany has to go to the audition tomorrow afternoon.”
“And because Santana wants to go through round two.” The dancer piped up. Groaning, Santana dragged her fiancée out of the restaurant, muttering something about not getting enough privacy.
Outside, Quinn kissed Rachel softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes. Three thirty.” The brunette agreed.
“I wouldn’t be late for the world,” Quinn admitted, smiling down at the girl.
Leaning in for another kiss, Rachel quipped. “Don’t be early either.”
---
Quinn cut off someone, shoving her hand out the window and apologizing. Glancing at the time, the blonde sighed, knowing full well that she was really pushing the whole punctual thing.
At exactly 3:27, Quinn’s old truck dragged itself into the parking lot and screeched to a halt. Never minding the crookedness of her parking, the blonde exploded out of the car, speed walking to the entrance of the theatre.
Not even two steps inside of the theatre, Quinn ran into a warm body, ending up on the floor. Preparing to rip into the person, the blonde sneered up at the woman until she realized who she had bumped into.
“Rachel! I’m so sorry.” Quinn began, rushing to her feet. The brunette wiped her mouth before holding a hand down to help the other girl up.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t looking where I was going, either.” Rachel admitted, moving aside as another man came out of the same door she had burst through, nodding at the women as he adjusted his belt and called out.
“You all have the order of the auditions and three minutes apiece to prove to me and everyone else here that you deserve this role. First one up, get on stage and start. I don’t have time to waste!” He finished, taking his seat and pulling out a pen for his clipboard.
Quinn arched her eyebrows and leaned over towards Rachel. “He’s kind of hot.”
The director was a tall and exceptionally well built man. His hair was well intact and sprinkled with grays that only managed to make him appear to be more wise and prestigious. He had an air about him that acted as a repellant and Quinn wondered if he had ever smiled before.
“And kind of scary.” The blonde added to her girlfriend as an afterthought.
The other three women auditioning had astonished the blonde who had mustered enough strength to keep a straight unimpressed facial expression throughout the entire audition. She didn’t want Rachel to psyche herself out. Glancing at her girlfriend wringing her hands, the musician frowned to herself. Rachel was the fourth and final actress to go up and even from her seat in the far back, Quinn could see that the young woman was fighting off nerves.
She began the scene with some dialogue, running through the lines with a stand in for her love interest. At the nod of the director, the brunette sprung into song, her voice carrying to Quinn’s seat effortlessly.
Sitting up straight, the blonde’s eyes widened as she watched Rachel put her heart and soul in to the song. She only managed to get three lines in when she was cut off by the director.
“Yes, thank you. That’s enough, Miss-“Pausing to check the clipboard, he clicked his tongue. “Berry. I suppose I should have remembered that.”
“Yes sir.” Rachel blushed, hurrying off the stage.
The director stood, taking a look at his watch. “The results of today’s auditions will be up this time tomorrow afternoon. I do not expect any calls about the results. What I decide is what I decide and I will not be making any changes. Good luck, but don’t expect that to help you women too much either. Please exit the theatre in the next five minutes, I do have other appointments and I cannot wait all day long for you.”
Quinn stood up as Rachel approached her, holding out her hand and smiling at her. “How do you think you did?”
The actress squeezed her hand, keeping her gaze focused ahead. “As a matter of fact, I don’t see any possibility of me not procuring this role.”