fic: Green is Not Your Color - Part Three
Title: Green is Not Your Color - Part Three
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Puck, Marisa, Mike, Quinn, Will, Sue
Rating: R
Summary: Santana gets jealous. Rachel does not approve of her coping methods.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,600 (this part) / ~27,600 (total)
Spoilers: Just the previous stories in this series
A/N: Follows Everything's Different, but Nothing's Changed. Apologies. I know it's been over a month. But at least it's the longest thing I've written yet. I'd promise next time it'll be better, but that might be a lie. However, I do have several stories still floating around, so I'm not giving up on this series. I'd actually planned on the next part being part 2 of the Ambitions trilogy to be next, but then a comment from darcelynn was the missing piece I needed for the next fic, so here we are. So yeah, hopefully this was worth the wait.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
series masterlist
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Santana opens her locker with a grimace. She's been brainstorming for almost two days and she still has no idea how to win Rachel back. She knows just singing a song in glee isn't going to work.
She wishes she were better at big romantic gestures or at least with coming up with big romantic gestures.
Closing her locker, she turns to head towards her first class when she sees Marisa and Rachel walking down the hall together. They're not holding hands or even touching, but they are remarkably close. Especially for someone who just ended a relationship less than a week ago.
Santana's right hand closes into a fist and she takes a step towards them, but stops herself. Blowing up at Marisa isn't the way to win Rachel back. She needs to come up with an idea. And quick.
…
"Why the long face, Lopez?" Puck asks sitting next to Santana at her deserted lunch table.
"Besides the obvious, Puckerman?" Santana snarls.
"Ah, don't be like that. You two are meant to be or whatever."
"Yaeh?"
"Hell yeah. You just have to apologize properly and you'll be good to go."
"That's the problem," Santana admits. "I haven't thought of anything good yet. Everything I think of is simple and cliché."
"Yeah, Rach is gonna need something big, but I have faith in you."
"Big?"
"Grand?" Puck sighs. "Not grand in size, but gesture."
"That makes no sense Puckerman."
"Sure it does," Brittany says sitting down next to Santana. "If it's romantic and sincere, Rach will go for it."
"See, B understands."
"Everything I think of is stupid," Santana replies.
"You'll just have to think harder then," Brittany tells her.
…
Last period, few students are paying attention in class. To them the teachers are droning on about things they don't care about. Many have fallen asleep while others doodle in their notebooks or in the margins of their books.
Exactly twenty-seven minutes into the class, those that are paying attention and looking forward witness the latest prank from the prankster.
Every single teacher standing in front of a class is hit with a flour bomb. The sound draws everyone's attention and those dozing off or daydreaming quickly join in the laughter of their peers who witnessed the whole scene.
Moments later the hall is full of teachers covered in flour and purple hair gel going somewhere to clean up.
Those that notice each other immediately come to the same conclusion.
"The prankster," Will mutters as he opens the door to the men's room. At least he has a spare set of clothes, he thinks. Being the last period it shouldn't matter, except that because it's Tuesday, they have glee.
By the time most of the teachers have returned to class there are only five minutes remaining. Most don’t try to take control of their classes; instead simply sitting for the last five minutes before the bell rings. When it does, the students exit jubilantly, still laughing loudly.
…
No one can talk about anything other than the flour bombs. The fact that it hit a teacher in every classroom amazes everyone.
"Either the prankster is a genius," Kurt says. "Or it's more than one guy."
"Seriously," Mercedes agrees. "How the hell did he know?"
"He wouldn't have to be super precise," Artie interjects. "I think he took a chance and it paid off."
"What does that mean, exactly?"
"If the flour bomb relied on impact to make it explode, he would have to be precise," Artie explains. "If it's a timed explosion, it just has to be in the vicinity to hit someone. Maybe that's why there was the hair gel inside too, to help carry the lightweight flour to its intended target."
Kurt and Mercedes stare at Artie for a moment.
"What?" he asks. "Tina agrees."
Kurt and Mercedes turn to Tina sitting between them.
"It just makes sense," she says, trying not to blush because of their combined stare.
"Huh," Kurt says. "Maybe you two are the prankster."
"Say that again, Kurt," Tina replies.
"It makes sense," Kurt continues. "You're both smart, good at figuring that stuff out and because we're not popular, people don't really pay attention to us, so you could totally pull it off."
"That's a nice theory, Kurt," Artie says. "Except how the hell did the two of us pull off the castle prank?"
"Dunno," Kurt shrugs. "With some help."
"I wish I knew where to get a catapult," Tina comments.
"Me too," Puck says plopping into a seat near by.
They all look at him.
"What? Catapults are cool."
"Thanks for the input, Puckerman," Mercedes says.
"I'm starting a betting pool," Puck adds. "On who the prankster is."
"Cause you know?" Artie asks.
"Course not," Puck replies. "But no one knows, so the bets would be all over the place and I'm sure I'd be able to cover it."
"Seriously?" Mercedes questions.
"I'll put twenty on Tina and Artie," Kurt interjects.
Puck pulls out a piece of paper and jots it down. Kurt hands him a twenty.
"Kurt, really," Tina says. "You don't think it's us?"
"I stand by my bet."
"Well then I'm putting twenty on Rachel," Finn says joining them.
"Still, Finn?" Kurt asks. "Give it up. We all know it's not Rachel Berry. Just because she dated Santana doesn't make her a badass."
"Don't talk shit about my bro," Puck says.
"I'm just saying, I don't think it's Rachel," Kurt finishes.
Puck pulls out his paper again and jots down Finn's bet after taking Finn's money.
"Anyone else?" Puck asks.
"I still think it's you and Santana," Mr. Schue says, handing over a twenty.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Schue," Santana says as she sits.
"It makes more sense than Rachel," Mercedes throws in.
"I agree," Rachel says, sitting as far from Santana as possible.
"You have a bet, bro?"
"Certainly not," Rachel replies. "As I simply don't care about the identity of the prankster."
"Course not," Kurt snorts.
"I simply believe our time could be better spent practicing instead of musing over the identity of someone who disrupts our school days. Don't you Mr. Schue?"
"Rachel's technically correct guys," Mr. Schue says. "Why don’t we get started?"
…
Santana sits in her car and watches as her girlfriend drives away with Marisa Lawson. Again.
"Nothing's going on," Brittany says, sitting in the passenger seat.
"Yeah, well, somehow that doesn't make me feel better."
"I mean, it's way too soon," Brittany continues. "She wouldn’t even make out with me yesterday."
"What the hell, Britt?"
"What? It's not like I was going after her, San."
Santana sighs. "I know, B. I know. I just miss her."
"We'll just have to come up with a really good way to get her back, right?"
"Exactly."
"Oh god," Quinn groans from the backseat. "Are you ladies done yet? Can we please leave? Before I drown in your drama?"
"Shut up Fabray," Santana snarls. "You can walk home for all I care."
"It might be worth it," Quinn snarks as Santana starts her car.
…
Santana is attempting homework after dinner when there's a knock on her door.
"Yeah?"
The door opens to reveal Mrs. Lopez. "You have a moment, San?"
"I guess," Santana says, putting down her pencil. "Homework is dumb anyway."
Mrs. Lopez comes in and sits on Santana's bed. "I was wondering if you wanted to talk. About Rachel."
Santana groans.
"I know as your mother you're not allowed to talk to me, but this break up came out of nowhere to your papa and I. Did we miss something? Or did the two of you put on an elaborate show for us?"
"What? No way," Santana says. "What Rachel and I have--had, whatever, it's real."
"Then what happened?"
"I really don't want to talk about it," Santana replies.
"I'm only asking because I really like Rachel. Your papa does too. We're just concerned about what drove away a girl who seemed head over heels for you," Mrs. Lopez explains.
"I still don’t want to talk about it," Santana says.
"I promise I won't get upset or judge," Mrs. Lopez assures her.
"I got jealous and reacted badly which upset Rachel enough to break up with me," Santana admits, finally.
"I see."
"I know I over reacted."
"What did you do?" Mrs. Lopez asks.
"I'd rather not say," Santana says.
"That bad?"
"Definitely in Rachel's eyes," Santana answers.
"She's obviously in love you with," Mrs. Lopez says. "Maybe you just need to give her a little time. Once she's had a chance to cool down, you can apologize again. And then you can work on your temper."
"I can't help that I'm possessive," Santana defends. "I see someone going after what's mine and I react."
"I've been hoping that dating someone a bit more level headed would even out your temper a bit,' Mrs. Lopez says.
"Whatever," Santana replies. "Rachel's a bit too level headed."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"After that whole thing with her dads, she was able to brush it off with a few dozen words. I mean, I know it bugs her. She opened up a little when she was explaining the situation, but after it was all over, it's like she didn't even care. It's not that I want her to be upset, but the girl who was talking about her childhood and crying was real. She didn't just disappear because her dads did again. There's no way she's okay with being rejected by her dads. Who would be?"
"Do you get to be so judgmental?" Mrs. Lopez asks. "You've said it yourself, Rachel never really had a support system, friends. She's probably not used to having someone she can confide in."
"Maybe."
"And why do you get to dictate how she feels or react? Yes, it may not be the most healthy, but it's her way. Rachel's intelligent enough to know she needs to deal with things. Maybe she's just not ready. What she really needs is patience and someone who's there for her."
"Yeah, well, she ended that, didn't she?"
Mrs. Lopez sighs. "Santana, life isn't always easy. Things don't happen the way you hope or plan. Sometimes adjustments have to be made. Because things still have a way of working out."
"Yeah?"
"They do," Mrs. Lopez assures her.
"You really think so?"
"Of course. Just give it some time."
"Thanks mom."
"Thanks for opening up," Mrs. Lopez says, pulling Santana into a hug.
…
"Hey Rach, how's it going?"
"Oh hi, Mike," Rachel replies. "I'm fine. Thank you. And how are you?"
"All right. Wednesday, you know?"
"I do indeed."
"So I was wondering what you're up to this afternoon?"
"Nothing specific," Rachel replies.
"Well I teach dancing to a bunch of ten year olds at the community center and I was wondering if you'd want to help me?" Mike asks.
"I suppose I could," Rachel says.
"Today I'm doing a lot of partner dancing like the waltz, foxtrot, that sort of thing. So a partner that knows what she's doing would be pretty cool."
"Yes, that sounds like a lot of fun actually."
"Well, I don't know if fun is the right word. They're better than a lot of ten year olds because a lot of them want to be in show business, so they want to be there, but they're still ten year olds. You know?" Mike explains.
"Still, it would be my pleasure to assist you this afternoon," Rachel tells him.
"Cool. Uh, I'll meet you after the bell and you can follow me?"
"Sounds good."
"Okay, well I gotta talk to Coach before first," Mike says. "Later?"
"See you later."
…
Marisa decides she's tired of eating lunch in silence. At first it was nice to just be in Rachel's presence, but now that they've actually hung out and had real conversations, Marisa feels like lunch time should be similar. She just isn't sure what to say.
"Hey, do you want to hang out on Saturday?" she asks finally.
"Saturday?"
"Yeah, my mom has to work all day, so I have to stay around the house and keep an eye on my brothers. I thought you could come over and we could have some sort of marathon. I was thinking some older MGM musicals, The Music Man, Singing in the Rain, Easter Parade."
"That does sound like fun," Rachel replies. "And having an appreciation for the classics is definitely important. Okay deal. I'll bring the snacks."
"And any others you might think of," Marisa adds.
"Of course."
…
After school, Rachel quickly gathers her things and goes to meet Mike. She's rather excited. She's not the best at partner dancing, but she knows the basics and she can follow a lead. Plus hanging out with Mike is rather fun.
He waves as he approaches his car and so Rachel climbs into hers to follow him. It's not that she doesn't know where the community center is; she spent a large portion of her youth there taking various classes. However, it is a big building and she wouldn't know where to go, so it just seems easier to follow Mike.
They park next to each other and head inside. It is a maze of twists and turns before they finally end up in a corner room. Mike goes to the CD player and sets it up with his various discs so it'll be easy to switch genres.
Rachel watches the kids trickle in. She has to agree with Mike, all the kids looks like they want to be there.
"Okay guys, settle down," Mike says.
The dozen ten year olds sit on the floor.
"This is my friend Rachel," Mike continues, gesturing to Rachel who curtseys. "She's going to help me show you some partner dances."
A hand is raised.
"Yes Lindsey?"
"What kind of dances?"
"Just some classics," Mike explains. "The Waltz of course. Foxtrot, quickstep, maybe. Samba for sure. Maybe some moves from the English country dance and some modern swing. If you guys were a little older, I'd show you the tango, but that might be too much touching."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the boy next to Lindsey asks.
"I'll show you a bit of the dance and then you guys can tell me if you want to try it," Mike says. "Rach?"
Rachel nods and joins Mike.
"I forgot to ask if you feel comfortable with this," Mike says as they position themselves.
"Well, I'll admit I didn't plan on performing this particular dance, but it's fine."
Mike smiles and begins to count.
They only get through a few steps before Lukas, the boy sitting next to Lindsey calls out. "Okay we get it."
Mike and Rachel pause.
"So we agree," Mike asks. "No tango?"
The kids all nod.
"Okay, pick your partner and we'll get started. And contrary to what I did, try to pick a partner who's about your height. It helps the first time you're learning." Mike glances over at Rachel. "Don't look at me like that," he tells her. "You know it's true."
"You're lucky I like you and dancing, Chang."
"I really appreciate it, Berry," Mike smirks. Seeing the kids are paired up, he turns to them. "Okay, so we'll start with the waltz."
…
Thursday Santana hears rumblings that Rachel left with Mike Chang after school. Even though she knows there's nothing going on there, the jealousy is still rising.
She blames it on Brittany making her sit at the glee table.
Kurt and Mercedes are at the far end, trying to quietly gossip, not wanting to face Santana's wrath.
"How can no one know what they were up to?" Kurt asks.
"I don't know," Mercedes answers. "Neither are very talkative."
"Rachel Berry?"
"At the moment," Mercedes clarifies. "Besides, Rachel never shares with us."
"Well, I suppose that's true."
"You really don't think they went out, like on a date, do you?" Mercedes asks. "I mean it's only been like a week."
"Maybe Rachel is looking for a new leading man."
"But it's only been a week."
"A clean and total break," Kurt suggests.
"That's way harsh."
Santana fights the urge to bang her head on the table. She turns to Brittany and Quinn who rehashing Cheerios' practice.
"Just ignore them, S," Brittany says when Santana lays her head on her shoulder. "Rach wouldn't do that to you."
"Yeah, Berry's just trying to distract herself," Quinn adds.
"Maybe."
…
Thursday glee is anything, but gleeful. Mr. Schue is apparently back to being slushied daily and so his enthusiasm is waning. Rachel tries her best to keep the energy level up, but it's difficult when she's not feeling it either.
Santana and Rachel's break up has caused a weird tension in the room. No one's necessarily made the distinction, including Rachel and Santana, but they can all feel the effects.
Today when they rehearse, it's all very mechanical. The usual free flowing, casual environment is replaced by a sterile room where everyone does what they're supposed to with no improv and nothing unexpected happens.
Rachel feels creatively stifled, which she knows is a bit egotistical about being a singer in a high school glee club. Mostly it just leaves her feeling unsatisfied with the experience. She, and the others, leave with an air of discontent.
…
Santana watches Marisa get into Rachel's car again after glee.
"That girl is totally making a move on her," Santana grumbles.
"Nothing's happening," Brittany says. "Do you need me to say that every day?"
"Maybe."
"Nothing's going on," Brittany repeats. "Have you thought of how you're going to win her back yet?"
"Nothing that'll work."
"I think you should serenade her," Brittany says as Santana pulls out of the parking lot.
"That won't be enough."
"Maybe," Brittany shrugs. "But it'll be a start. You're going to have to start doing something soon or you are going to lose her."
"Fine. A serenade. Now I just have to come up with a song."
…
Friday afternoon, Will is eager to leave for the day. It's been a long week and he could use some extended time away from McKinley.
However, when he reaches his car, he's dismayed to find it filled half way with blue raspberry slushie.
He groans. Apparently he shouldn't have left his back window open. He unlocks the passenger side door and opens it. A waterfall of icy blue sweetness pools around his shoes and ankles. Of course, it doesn't get all of it. He forced to go back inside and return with a bucket and a shovel.
Will scoops out the backseat with the bucket as well as the passenger side. He uses the shovel to get some of the driver's side. He then returns the bucket and shovel before returning with some painter's plastic he found stashed in the back of the janitor's closet.
He drives to a car rental agency and rents a car. He then calls a tow truck and has his car towed to a very detailed oriented car wash he knows. He calls ahead and explains the situation.
Because it's Lima, they're used to getting an occasional call like this, so they quote him a price and tell him when they'll be finished. With a sigh, Will climbs into his brand new, bright red Ford Focus and drives the rental home.
…
It's late and Rachel is contemplating dragging Noah to bed because she's not sure she can watch any more Death Race movies. Watching the original and the remake is kind of interesting, but she's really not in the mood for the sequel or prequel or however one wants to refer to it.
When suddenly she hears music coming from her front yard. Standing, she goes to the front door. Listening more intently, she can definitely make out someone singing; someone rather familiar.
Opening the door reveals Santana in her yard with Artie by her side, playing his guitar.
…Do you know you take my heart through the door
Are there words to tell you what I live for
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to lose you
Rachel isn't sure what's surprising her the most about this performance. There's the song choice, Air Supply doesn't seem like something Santana would be familiar with. Or there's Artie's accompaniment; both his participation and Santana asking him are surprising. And third, the emotion that Santana seems to be putting forth. The slowed down, melancholy version she's witnessing right now is quite heartfelt and it's taking every bit of will power Rachel has not to run to Santana.
…I don't want to lose you
Is it true, you are leaving what you believe
Part of you, will always be with me
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to lose you
Noah has joined her at some point and they're both sitting on the front step, just listening and watching as the music concludes. Noah claps enthusiastically, while Rachel is a bit more subdued.
Santana obviously knows the song isn't enough. Rachel knows because otherwise she'd already be swept up in Santana arms.
"That was lovely, San," Rachel says quietly. "And Artie that was fantastic playing. I've never heard the song quite like that."
"Thanks Rach," Artie says. He awkwardly wheels himself over, the grass causing some issues. "You really should give her another chance. She put a lot of effort into this."
"I'm sure she did, but I'm just not ready."
"All right," Artie replies. "But you guys are better together than you are apart."
Rachel smiles. "Thanks Artie. I promise to give it serious thought."
Artie wheels himself to the car, which Rachel has just noticed is sitting in her driveway. She can make out Brittany in the driver's seat.
Rachel takes a few steps towards Santana. "That was amazing," she says. "And I appreciate the gesture, but it's unfortunately not enough."
Santana sighs. "I figured as much, but a girl has to try. Right?"
Rachel nods.
"You know, I really am sorry, babe."
"I know you are," Rachel replies. "I'm just not ready yet. Can you understand that?"
Santana nods. "I can. I guess I should be going."
Rachel nods again. As Santana walks to the car, Rachel turns and waves at Brittany who exuberantly waves back.
"That was pretty good, bro," Noah says as Rachel and he walk back into the house.
"I know," Rachel agrees. "But just as I told San, I'm not ready yet. Slushing people is a big deal to me."
"Yeah, makes sense."
…
Santana wakes up Saturday morning and immediately wishes she hadn't. When her serenade of Rachel didn't work out, she and Britt headed back to the Lopez residence and drank.
She's definitely hung over and her body is still waking her up early on a Saturday. Going over to Rachel's early has become a habit and one her body isn't aware has changed.
She gets up to pee and drink some water. The house is quiet and so she ventures down stairs for some bottles of water.
There's a note on the fridge.
Santana, try not to spend the whole day in bed. It's a lovely day out. Take Brittany to the park or something. Keep busy. Love, mom.
It's an odd note, but she appreciates the sentiment. Heading back upstairs with two bottles of water, Santana thinks her mom might be right, though she'd never admit it.
In her room, Brittany has claimed as much as the bed as possible. She sets one water bottle on Brittany's side of the bed and the other on hers. She pushes her best friend over and crawls back into bed, definitely needing more sleep.
…
Saturday morning, Rachel rises with a purpose. She does her usual weekend cleaning and then looks through her musicals. She grabs Oklahoma, Kiss Me Kate, Hello Dolly, and Oliver! to bring over to Marisa's; just to have more options.
Having spent many hours at Marisa's, Rachel is comfortable enough to simply ring the bell and walk in. Tyler and Calvin are in the family room playing video games as usual. Mrs. Lawson is in the kitchen pour coffee into a travel mug and Marisa is at the table eating cereal.
"Oh hello, Rachel, dear," Mrs. Lawson says, turning around. "Are you spending the day?"
"I am."
"Well then I'll see you tonight. Will you be staying for dinner?"
"I hadn't thought that far ahead, actually," Rachel replies.
"So that's a yes, then," Mrs. Lawson says. "I'll see you girls later."
"Bye mom," Marisa says through bites of cereal.
"I brought a few more musicals," Rachel tells Marisa, holding them up.
"Cool. Choices are good."
"Where are we watching?"
"Up in my room?" Marisa suggests. "It's easier than trying to argue with the little brothers."
"They are rather intense about their games," Rachel agrees.
Marisa puts her cereal bowl in the sink and heads upstairs with Rachel trailing behind her.
Rachel hands over her selections and smiles at the pleased look on Marisa's face.
"Do you mind if we start with The Music Man?" Marisa asks.
"That sounds just fine," Rachel replies, settling on the bed.
Marisa puts the DVD in the player and joins Rachel on her bed.
…
Santana cannot believe she's spending her Saturday night hanging out with her fellow Cheerios. She could kill Quinn for suggesting a bonding night. Displeased with their performances the past week, Coach Sylvester gladly agreed. Of course that means she's expecting perfection on Monday. Santana hopes they can deliver.
They're at Stacey Hudson's because her parents are out of town for the weekend.
Santana doesn't understand how sitting around with her fellow Cheerios and drinking can be considered bonding. The more she hangs out with these bitches, the more she doesn't want to. The male Cheerios aren't much better.
"Hi San," Brittany says, plopping down next to her.
"Hey Britt," Santana replies, sipping her drink. She has no intention of getting drunk. There's no way she wants to be weepy or vulnerable around these vultures.
"Having fun?"
"No. You?"
"It's okay."
"I'd rather be at Rachel's."
"Well, then you'll have to come up with a better plan than the serenade," Brittany tells her.
"I know. I'm just having this weird like block of ideas. Nothing I think of seems good enough," Santana explains.
"Then we'll just have to have a brainstorm session tomorrow. Me and you."
"Yeah?" Santana asks.
"You and Rachy need to be back together already."
"Well that's certainly true," Quinn says flopping down on the other side of Santana.
"Really?"
"I never realized how pathetic you are without her," Quinn replies.
"You're a really great motivation speaker," Santana snaps.
"A raging--"
"Do you have any ideas Quinn?"
Quinn sighs. "Britt, I'd really rather not, okay?"
"Right. Sorry. Forgot. Drinking."
"It's fine."
"Can we just skip all the emotional bullshit," Santana interjects. "And be catty bitches? Because there's too much going on here, not to."
Quinn looks around the room. In the corner she can see two freshmen, one blonde, the other a redhead, making out. There's some a lot of grinding on the dance floor and at least two people are passed out, one has a mustache, glasses and a goatee drawn on her.
Quinn groans. "Seriously?"
"See what I mean?"
"Why did I suggest this again?"
"My question as well, Q."
Part Four
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Puck, Marisa, Mike, Quinn, Will, Sue
Rating: R
Summary: Santana gets jealous. Rachel does not approve of her coping methods.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,600 (this part) / ~27,600 (total)
Spoilers: Just the previous stories in this series
A/N: Follows Everything's Different, but Nothing's Changed. Apologies. I know it's been over a month. But at least it's the longest thing I've written yet. I'd promise next time it'll be better, but that might be a lie. However, I do have several stories still floating around, so I'm not giving up on this series. I'd actually planned on the next part being part 2 of the Ambitions trilogy to be next, but then a comment from darcelynn was the missing piece I needed for the next fic, so here we are. So yeah, hopefully this was worth the wait.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
series masterlist
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Santana opens her locker with a grimace. She's been brainstorming for almost two days and she still has no idea how to win Rachel back. She knows just singing a song in glee isn't going to work.
She wishes she were better at big romantic gestures or at least with coming up with big romantic gestures.
Closing her locker, she turns to head towards her first class when she sees Marisa and Rachel walking down the hall together. They're not holding hands or even touching, but they are remarkably close. Especially for someone who just ended a relationship less than a week ago.
Santana's right hand closes into a fist and she takes a step towards them, but stops herself. Blowing up at Marisa isn't the way to win Rachel back. She needs to come up with an idea. And quick.
…
"Why the long face, Lopez?" Puck asks sitting next to Santana at her deserted lunch table.
"Besides the obvious, Puckerman?" Santana snarls.
"Ah, don't be like that. You two are meant to be or whatever."
"Yaeh?"
"Hell yeah. You just have to apologize properly and you'll be good to go."
"That's the problem," Santana admits. "I haven't thought of anything good yet. Everything I think of is simple and cliché."
"Yeah, Rach is gonna need something big, but I have faith in you."
"Big?"
"Grand?" Puck sighs. "Not grand in size, but gesture."
"That makes no sense Puckerman."
"Sure it does," Brittany says sitting down next to Santana. "If it's romantic and sincere, Rach will go for it."
"See, B understands."
"Everything I think of is stupid," Santana replies.
"You'll just have to think harder then," Brittany tells her.
…
Last period, few students are paying attention in class. To them the teachers are droning on about things they don't care about. Many have fallen asleep while others doodle in their notebooks or in the margins of their books.
Exactly twenty-seven minutes into the class, those that are paying attention and looking forward witness the latest prank from the prankster.
Every single teacher standing in front of a class is hit with a flour bomb. The sound draws everyone's attention and those dozing off or daydreaming quickly join in the laughter of their peers who witnessed the whole scene.
Moments later the hall is full of teachers covered in flour and purple hair gel going somewhere to clean up.
Those that notice each other immediately come to the same conclusion.
"The prankster," Will mutters as he opens the door to the men's room. At least he has a spare set of clothes, he thinks. Being the last period it shouldn't matter, except that because it's Tuesday, they have glee.
By the time most of the teachers have returned to class there are only five minutes remaining. Most don’t try to take control of their classes; instead simply sitting for the last five minutes before the bell rings. When it does, the students exit jubilantly, still laughing loudly.
…
No one can talk about anything other than the flour bombs. The fact that it hit a teacher in every classroom amazes everyone.
"Either the prankster is a genius," Kurt says. "Or it's more than one guy."
"Seriously," Mercedes agrees. "How the hell did he know?"
"He wouldn't have to be super precise," Artie interjects. "I think he took a chance and it paid off."
"What does that mean, exactly?"
"If the flour bomb relied on impact to make it explode, he would have to be precise," Artie explains. "If it's a timed explosion, it just has to be in the vicinity to hit someone. Maybe that's why there was the hair gel inside too, to help carry the lightweight flour to its intended target."
Kurt and Mercedes stare at Artie for a moment.
"What?" he asks. "Tina agrees."
Kurt and Mercedes turn to Tina sitting between them.
"It just makes sense," she says, trying not to blush because of their combined stare.
"Huh," Kurt says. "Maybe you two are the prankster."
"Say that again, Kurt," Tina replies.
"It makes sense," Kurt continues. "You're both smart, good at figuring that stuff out and because we're not popular, people don't really pay attention to us, so you could totally pull it off."
"That's a nice theory, Kurt," Artie says. "Except how the hell did the two of us pull off the castle prank?"
"Dunno," Kurt shrugs. "With some help."
"I wish I knew where to get a catapult," Tina comments.
"Me too," Puck says plopping into a seat near by.
They all look at him.
"What? Catapults are cool."
"Thanks for the input, Puckerman," Mercedes says.
"I'm starting a betting pool," Puck adds. "On who the prankster is."
"Cause you know?" Artie asks.
"Course not," Puck replies. "But no one knows, so the bets would be all over the place and I'm sure I'd be able to cover it."
"Seriously?" Mercedes questions.
"I'll put twenty on Tina and Artie," Kurt interjects.
Puck pulls out a piece of paper and jots it down. Kurt hands him a twenty.
"Kurt, really," Tina says. "You don't think it's us?"
"I stand by my bet."
"Well then I'm putting twenty on Rachel," Finn says joining them.
"Still, Finn?" Kurt asks. "Give it up. We all know it's not Rachel Berry. Just because she dated Santana doesn't make her a badass."
"Don't talk shit about my bro," Puck says.
"I'm just saying, I don't think it's Rachel," Kurt finishes.
Puck pulls out his paper again and jots down Finn's bet after taking Finn's money.
"Anyone else?" Puck asks.
"I still think it's you and Santana," Mr. Schue says, handing over a twenty.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Schue," Santana says as she sits.
"It makes more sense than Rachel," Mercedes throws in.
"I agree," Rachel says, sitting as far from Santana as possible.
"You have a bet, bro?"
"Certainly not," Rachel replies. "As I simply don't care about the identity of the prankster."
"Course not," Kurt snorts.
"I simply believe our time could be better spent practicing instead of musing over the identity of someone who disrupts our school days. Don't you Mr. Schue?"
"Rachel's technically correct guys," Mr. Schue says. "Why don’t we get started?"
…
Santana sits in her car and watches as her girlfriend drives away with Marisa Lawson. Again.
"Nothing's going on," Brittany says, sitting in the passenger seat.
"Yeah, well, somehow that doesn't make me feel better."
"I mean, it's way too soon," Brittany continues. "She wouldn’t even make out with me yesterday."
"What the hell, Britt?"
"What? It's not like I was going after her, San."
Santana sighs. "I know, B. I know. I just miss her."
"We'll just have to come up with a really good way to get her back, right?"
"Exactly."
"Oh god," Quinn groans from the backseat. "Are you ladies done yet? Can we please leave? Before I drown in your drama?"
"Shut up Fabray," Santana snarls. "You can walk home for all I care."
"It might be worth it," Quinn snarks as Santana starts her car.
…
Santana is attempting homework after dinner when there's a knock on her door.
"Yeah?"
The door opens to reveal Mrs. Lopez. "You have a moment, San?"
"I guess," Santana says, putting down her pencil. "Homework is dumb anyway."
Mrs. Lopez comes in and sits on Santana's bed. "I was wondering if you wanted to talk. About Rachel."
Santana groans.
"I know as your mother you're not allowed to talk to me, but this break up came out of nowhere to your papa and I. Did we miss something? Or did the two of you put on an elaborate show for us?"
"What? No way," Santana says. "What Rachel and I have--had, whatever, it's real."
"Then what happened?"
"I really don't want to talk about it," Santana replies.
"I'm only asking because I really like Rachel. Your papa does too. We're just concerned about what drove away a girl who seemed head over heels for you," Mrs. Lopez explains.
"I still don’t want to talk about it," Santana says.
"I promise I won't get upset or judge," Mrs. Lopez assures her.
"I got jealous and reacted badly which upset Rachel enough to break up with me," Santana admits, finally.
"I see."
"I know I over reacted."
"What did you do?" Mrs. Lopez asks.
"I'd rather not say," Santana says.
"That bad?"
"Definitely in Rachel's eyes," Santana answers.
"She's obviously in love you with," Mrs. Lopez says. "Maybe you just need to give her a little time. Once she's had a chance to cool down, you can apologize again. And then you can work on your temper."
"I can't help that I'm possessive," Santana defends. "I see someone going after what's mine and I react."
"I've been hoping that dating someone a bit more level headed would even out your temper a bit,' Mrs. Lopez says.
"Whatever," Santana replies. "Rachel's a bit too level headed."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"After that whole thing with her dads, she was able to brush it off with a few dozen words. I mean, I know it bugs her. She opened up a little when she was explaining the situation, but after it was all over, it's like she didn't even care. It's not that I want her to be upset, but the girl who was talking about her childhood and crying was real. She didn't just disappear because her dads did again. There's no way she's okay with being rejected by her dads. Who would be?"
"Do you get to be so judgmental?" Mrs. Lopez asks. "You've said it yourself, Rachel never really had a support system, friends. She's probably not used to having someone she can confide in."
"Maybe."
"And why do you get to dictate how she feels or react? Yes, it may not be the most healthy, but it's her way. Rachel's intelligent enough to know she needs to deal with things. Maybe she's just not ready. What she really needs is patience and someone who's there for her."
"Yeah, well, she ended that, didn't she?"
Mrs. Lopez sighs. "Santana, life isn't always easy. Things don't happen the way you hope or plan. Sometimes adjustments have to be made. Because things still have a way of working out."
"Yeah?"
"They do," Mrs. Lopez assures her.
"You really think so?"
"Of course. Just give it some time."
"Thanks mom."
"Thanks for opening up," Mrs. Lopez says, pulling Santana into a hug.
…
"Hey Rach, how's it going?"
"Oh hi, Mike," Rachel replies. "I'm fine. Thank you. And how are you?"
"All right. Wednesday, you know?"
"I do indeed."
"So I was wondering what you're up to this afternoon?"
"Nothing specific," Rachel replies.
"Well I teach dancing to a bunch of ten year olds at the community center and I was wondering if you'd want to help me?" Mike asks.
"I suppose I could," Rachel says.
"Today I'm doing a lot of partner dancing like the waltz, foxtrot, that sort of thing. So a partner that knows what she's doing would be pretty cool."
"Yes, that sounds like a lot of fun actually."
"Well, I don't know if fun is the right word. They're better than a lot of ten year olds because a lot of them want to be in show business, so they want to be there, but they're still ten year olds. You know?" Mike explains.
"Still, it would be my pleasure to assist you this afternoon," Rachel tells him.
"Cool. Uh, I'll meet you after the bell and you can follow me?"
"Sounds good."
"Okay, well I gotta talk to Coach before first," Mike says. "Later?"
"See you later."
…
Marisa decides she's tired of eating lunch in silence. At first it was nice to just be in Rachel's presence, but now that they've actually hung out and had real conversations, Marisa feels like lunch time should be similar. She just isn't sure what to say.
"Hey, do you want to hang out on Saturday?" she asks finally.
"Saturday?"
"Yeah, my mom has to work all day, so I have to stay around the house and keep an eye on my brothers. I thought you could come over and we could have some sort of marathon. I was thinking some older MGM musicals, The Music Man, Singing in the Rain, Easter Parade."
"That does sound like fun," Rachel replies. "And having an appreciation for the classics is definitely important. Okay deal. I'll bring the snacks."
"And any others you might think of," Marisa adds.
"Of course."
…
After school, Rachel quickly gathers her things and goes to meet Mike. She's rather excited. She's not the best at partner dancing, but she knows the basics and she can follow a lead. Plus hanging out with Mike is rather fun.
He waves as he approaches his car and so Rachel climbs into hers to follow him. It's not that she doesn't know where the community center is; she spent a large portion of her youth there taking various classes. However, it is a big building and she wouldn't know where to go, so it just seems easier to follow Mike.
They park next to each other and head inside. It is a maze of twists and turns before they finally end up in a corner room. Mike goes to the CD player and sets it up with his various discs so it'll be easy to switch genres.
Rachel watches the kids trickle in. She has to agree with Mike, all the kids looks like they want to be there.
"Okay guys, settle down," Mike says.
The dozen ten year olds sit on the floor.
"This is my friend Rachel," Mike continues, gesturing to Rachel who curtseys. "She's going to help me show you some partner dances."
A hand is raised.
"Yes Lindsey?"
"What kind of dances?"
"Just some classics," Mike explains. "The Waltz of course. Foxtrot, quickstep, maybe. Samba for sure. Maybe some moves from the English country dance and some modern swing. If you guys were a little older, I'd show you the tango, but that might be too much touching."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the boy next to Lindsey asks.
"I'll show you a bit of the dance and then you guys can tell me if you want to try it," Mike says. "Rach?"
Rachel nods and joins Mike.
"I forgot to ask if you feel comfortable with this," Mike says as they position themselves.
"Well, I'll admit I didn't plan on performing this particular dance, but it's fine."
Mike smiles and begins to count.
They only get through a few steps before Lukas, the boy sitting next to Lindsey calls out. "Okay we get it."
Mike and Rachel pause.
"So we agree," Mike asks. "No tango?"
The kids all nod.
"Okay, pick your partner and we'll get started. And contrary to what I did, try to pick a partner who's about your height. It helps the first time you're learning." Mike glances over at Rachel. "Don't look at me like that," he tells her. "You know it's true."
"You're lucky I like you and dancing, Chang."
"I really appreciate it, Berry," Mike smirks. Seeing the kids are paired up, he turns to them. "Okay, so we'll start with the waltz."
…
Thursday Santana hears rumblings that Rachel left with Mike Chang after school. Even though she knows there's nothing going on there, the jealousy is still rising.
She blames it on Brittany making her sit at the glee table.
Kurt and Mercedes are at the far end, trying to quietly gossip, not wanting to face Santana's wrath.
"How can no one know what they were up to?" Kurt asks.
"I don't know," Mercedes answers. "Neither are very talkative."
"Rachel Berry?"
"At the moment," Mercedes clarifies. "Besides, Rachel never shares with us."
"Well, I suppose that's true."
"You really don't think they went out, like on a date, do you?" Mercedes asks. "I mean it's only been like a week."
"Maybe Rachel is looking for a new leading man."
"But it's only been a week."
"A clean and total break," Kurt suggests.
"That's way harsh."
Santana fights the urge to bang her head on the table. She turns to Brittany and Quinn who rehashing Cheerios' practice.
"Just ignore them, S," Brittany says when Santana lays her head on her shoulder. "Rach wouldn't do that to you."
"Yeah, Berry's just trying to distract herself," Quinn adds.
"Maybe."
…
Thursday glee is anything, but gleeful. Mr. Schue is apparently back to being slushied daily and so his enthusiasm is waning. Rachel tries her best to keep the energy level up, but it's difficult when she's not feeling it either.
Santana and Rachel's break up has caused a weird tension in the room. No one's necessarily made the distinction, including Rachel and Santana, but they can all feel the effects.
Today when they rehearse, it's all very mechanical. The usual free flowing, casual environment is replaced by a sterile room where everyone does what they're supposed to with no improv and nothing unexpected happens.
Rachel feels creatively stifled, which she knows is a bit egotistical about being a singer in a high school glee club. Mostly it just leaves her feeling unsatisfied with the experience. She, and the others, leave with an air of discontent.
…
Santana watches Marisa get into Rachel's car again after glee.
"That girl is totally making a move on her," Santana grumbles.
"Nothing's happening," Brittany says. "Do you need me to say that every day?"
"Maybe."
"Nothing's going on," Brittany repeats. "Have you thought of how you're going to win her back yet?"
"Nothing that'll work."
"I think you should serenade her," Brittany says as Santana pulls out of the parking lot.
"That won't be enough."
"Maybe," Brittany shrugs. "But it'll be a start. You're going to have to start doing something soon or you are going to lose her."
"Fine. A serenade. Now I just have to come up with a song."
…
Friday afternoon, Will is eager to leave for the day. It's been a long week and he could use some extended time away from McKinley.
However, when he reaches his car, he's dismayed to find it filled half way with blue raspberry slushie.
He groans. Apparently he shouldn't have left his back window open. He unlocks the passenger side door and opens it. A waterfall of icy blue sweetness pools around his shoes and ankles. Of course, it doesn't get all of it. He forced to go back inside and return with a bucket and a shovel.
Will scoops out the backseat with the bucket as well as the passenger side. He uses the shovel to get some of the driver's side. He then returns the bucket and shovel before returning with some painter's plastic he found stashed in the back of the janitor's closet.
He drives to a car rental agency and rents a car. He then calls a tow truck and has his car towed to a very detailed oriented car wash he knows. He calls ahead and explains the situation.
Because it's Lima, they're used to getting an occasional call like this, so they quote him a price and tell him when they'll be finished. With a sigh, Will climbs into his brand new, bright red Ford Focus and drives the rental home.
…
It's late and Rachel is contemplating dragging Noah to bed because she's not sure she can watch any more Death Race movies. Watching the original and the remake is kind of interesting, but she's really not in the mood for the sequel or prequel or however one wants to refer to it.
When suddenly she hears music coming from her front yard. Standing, she goes to the front door. Listening more intently, she can definitely make out someone singing; someone rather familiar.
Opening the door reveals Santana in her yard with Artie by her side, playing his guitar.
…Do you know you take my heart through the door
Are there words to tell you what I live for
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to lose you
Rachel isn't sure what's surprising her the most about this performance. There's the song choice, Air Supply doesn't seem like something Santana would be familiar with. Or there's Artie's accompaniment; both his participation and Santana asking him are surprising. And third, the emotion that Santana seems to be putting forth. The slowed down, melancholy version she's witnessing right now is quite heartfelt and it's taking every bit of will power Rachel has not to run to Santana.
…I don't want to lose you
Is it true, you are leaving what you believe
Part of you, will always be with me
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to lose you
Noah has joined her at some point and they're both sitting on the front step, just listening and watching as the music concludes. Noah claps enthusiastically, while Rachel is a bit more subdued.
Santana obviously knows the song isn't enough. Rachel knows because otherwise she'd already be swept up in Santana arms.
"That was lovely, San," Rachel says quietly. "And Artie that was fantastic playing. I've never heard the song quite like that."
"Thanks Rach," Artie says. He awkwardly wheels himself over, the grass causing some issues. "You really should give her another chance. She put a lot of effort into this."
"I'm sure she did, but I'm just not ready."
"All right," Artie replies. "But you guys are better together than you are apart."
Rachel smiles. "Thanks Artie. I promise to give it serious thought."
Artie wheels himself to the car, which Rachel has just noticed is sitting in her driveway. She can make out Brittany in the driver's seat.
Rachel takes a few steps towards Santana. "That was amazing," she says. "And I appreciate the gesture, but it's unfortunately not enough."
Santana sighs. "I figured as much, but a girl has to try. Right?"
Rachel nods.
"You know, I really am sorry, babe."
"I know you are," Rachel replies. "I'm just not ready yet. Can you understand that?"
Santana nods. "I can. I guess I should be going."
Rachel nods again. As Santana walks to the car, Rachel turns and waves at Brittany who exuberantly waves back.
"That was pretty good, bro," Noah says as Rachel and he walk back into the house.
"I know," Rachel agrees. "But just as I told San, I'm not ready yet. Slushing people is a big deal to me."
"Yeah, makes sense."
…
Santana wakes up Saturday morning and immediately wishes she hadn't. When her serenade of Rachel didn't work out, she and Britt headed back to the Lopez residence and drank.
She's definitely hung over and her body is still waking her up early on a Saturday. Going over to Rachel's early has become a habit and one her body isn't aware has changed.
She gets up to pee and drink some water. The house is quiet and so she ventures down stairs for some bottles of water.
There's a note on the fridge.
Santana, try not to spend the whole day in bed. It's a lovely day out. Take Brittany to the park or something. Keep busy. Love, mom.
It's an odd note, but she appreciates the sentiment. Heading back upstairs with two bottles of water, Santana thinks her mom might be right, though she'd never admit it.
In her room, Brittany has claimed as much as the bed as possible. She sets one water bottle on Brittany's side of the bed and the other on hers. She pushes her best friend over and crawls back into bed, definitely needing more sleep.
…
Saturday morning, Rachel rises with a purpose. She does her usual weekend cleaning and then looks through her musicals. She grabs Oklahoma, Kiss Me Kate, Hello Dolly, and Oliver! to bring over to Marisa's; just to have more options.
Having spent many hours at Marisa's, Rachel is comfortable enough to simply ring the bell and walk in. Tyler and Calvin are in the family room playing video games as usual. Mrs. Lawson is in the kitchen pour coffee into a travel mug and Marisa is at the table eating cereal.
"Oh hello, Rachel, dear," Mrs. Lawson says, turning around. "Are you spending the day?"
"I am."
"Well then I'll see you tonight. Will you be staying for dinner?"
"I hadn't thought that far ahead, actually," Rachel replies.
"So that's a yes, then," Mrs. Lawson says. "I'll see you girls later."
"Bye mom," Marisa says through bites of cereal.
"I brought a few more musicals," Rachel tells Marisa, holding them up.
"Cool. Choices are good."
"Where are we watching?"
"Up in my room?" Marisa suggests. "It's easier than trying to argue with the little brothers."
"They are rather intense about their games," Rachel agrees.
Marisa puts her cereal bowl in the sink and heads upstairs with Rachel trailing behind her.
Rachel hands over her selections and smiles at the pleased look on Marisa's face.
"Do you mind if we start with The Music Man?" Marisa asks.
"That sounds just fine," Rachel replies, settling on the bed.
Marisa puts the DVD in the player and joins Rachel on her bed.
…
Santana cannot believe she's spending her Saturday night hanging out with her fellow Cheerios. She could kill Quinn for suggesting a bonding night. Displeased with their performances the past week, Coach Sylvester gladly agreed. Of course that means she's expecting perfection on Monday. Santana hopes they can deliver.
They're at Stacey Hudson's because her parents are out of town for the weekend.
Santana doesn't understand how sitting around with her fellow Cheerios and drinking can be considered bonding. The more she hangs out with these bitches, the more she doesn't want to. The male Cheerios aren't much better.
"Hi San," Brittany says, plopping down next to her.
"Hey Britt," Santana replies, sipping her drink. She has no intention of getting drunk. There's no way she wants to be weepy or vulnerable around these vultures.
"Having fun?"
"No. You?"
"It's okay."
"I'd rather be at Rachel's."
"Well, then you'll have to come up with a better plan than the serenade," Brittany tells her.
"I know. I'm just having this weird like block of ideas. Nothing I think of seems good enough," Santana explains.
"Then we'll just have to have a brainstorm session tomorrow. Me and you."
"Yeah?" Santana asks.
"You and Rachy need to be back together already."
"Well that's certainly true," Quinn says flopping down on the other side of Santana.
"Really?"
"I never realized how pathetic you are without her," Quinn replies.
"You're a really great motivation speaker," Santana snaps.
"A raging--"
"Do you have any ideas Quinn?"
Quinn sighs. "Britt, I'd really rather not, okay?"
"Right. Sorry. Forgot. Drinking."
"It's fine."
"Can we just skip all the emotional bullshit," Santana interjects. "And be catty bitches? Because there's too much going on here, not to."
Quinn looks around the room. In the corner she can see two freshmen, one blonde, the other a redhead, making out. There's some a lot of grinding on the dance floor and at least two people are passed out, one has a mustache, glasses and a goatee drawn on her.
Quinn groans. "Seriously?"
"See what I mean?"
"Why did I suggest this again?"
"My question as well, Q."
Part Four