Fic [Glee] Debut
Title: Debut
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Artie/Tina
Word Count: 1,190
Rating: PG-13
Summary: At the 2011 Show Choir Nationals in New York City, Artie and Tina sneak away from the hotel for “secret date night.”
Rachel had her hands on her hips as Tina leaned over the bathroom sink and finished applying her eyeliner. “At least tell me where you’re going,” Rachel demanded, “so that if you get mugged and killed on the subway, we know where to start looking.”
“For the last time, she doesn’t know!” Mercedes yelled from the bedroom section of their hotel room.
It was true. Tina had no idea where she was going. Artie’s text had read “Secret date nite 2nite? y/y? Wont say where yet dont want Rachel to know. Pick u up @ 930.”
So of course she promptly replied yes and then she and Mercedes spent all afternoon between rehearsals brainstorming romantic spots in New York City. Mercedes had decided that it was going to be a super swanky restaurant. Tina hoped not, because after all of the long practice days leading up to here, to Nationals, the last thing she wanted to wear was her uniform, the only really nice clothes she’d brought.
It was 9:28. There was a soft knock on the door. Rachel glared as Mercedes let out a whoop and Tina grabbed her purse.
“Have fun!” Mercedes said. Tina opened the door.
Thankfully, Artie was dressed casually. He was in Converse high-tops and even jeans instead of slacks. Of course, there was no getting him out of those sweater vests-they’d been dating over a year and Tina had yet to confirm that he owned a single t-shirt. His guitar was balanced on his lap.
Ooh, guitar. She hadn’t considered that. She leaned forward and kissed him.
“You ready, girl?” he asked as they broke apart.
“You know it.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she glanced down the hall towards Mr. Schue’s room. She wasn’t too worried, though. Mercedes said she thought that Mr. Schue was having lady drama again, and that plus the stress of dealing with Nationals administration made him the least observant (read: best) chaperone ever.
Still, it wasn’t until they were safely in the elevator that she raised her voice. “So…where are we going?”
“I know how bummed you were about not getting a solo at Nationals. But I found an open mic night at a coffee shop not too far away,” he said, “if you’re still interested in making your New York City debut.”
She was so touched that she was momentarily speechless. She reached down and took his hand, and he smiled back at her. She used the back of her free hand to brush away a couple of happy tears.
“I didn’t want anyone else to know because they’d just want to come along and sing, too,” he added. “And frankly, I’m sick and tired of everyone’s voice but yours.”
“Thank you,” she said when she finally found her words.
Puck was in the lobby entertaining one of the girls from a rival choir. But he was pushed back into a dark corner, and looked so fully engrossed that he didn’t seem to notice them leave. Once they were on the street, Artie handed Tina his guitar to carry, and she accepted it carefully. He seemed confident in knowing where they were going, so she followed without worry.
“Are you going to sing, too?” she asked.
“No, but I’ll be your backup band, unless you want to do our duet,” he said. They’d been so close to getting Jason Mraz’ “I’m Yours” into the Nationals set list until Rachel announced it was “thematically incompatible” with the rest of the selections. It was true enough, but it still stung. “And I have been working on a new slam poem lately…”
That was an understatement. After an incident at airport security, he’d spent most of the plane ride from Lima scribbling over a piece of paper, muttering to himself.
“You should do it,” she said. “I bet the Def poetry scene’s better here than in Ohio.”
They found the coffee shop, fewer than four blocks away. In the fifteen minutes before the open mic started, she signed them up and bought a tea for her and a coffee for him, while Artie managed to convince everyone that they were freshman at Columbia. She hoped people believed him because they looked older and mature, and not because he was wearing nerd glasses and she was Asian.
“Do you have a set list in mind?” he asked as they settled in. “I say you should try to sneak in two.”
He had done all of this for her, of course, so she was tempted to request something romantic and sweet. Besides Jason Mraz, they did a really good “High Tide or Low Tide,” and once Tina filled a glee club assignment with a performance of Colbie Caillat’s “Bubbly” that even Finn called “so cute I think I just threw up in my mouth,” and this from a guy who serenaded a girl at least once a week.
But…
This was her solo, and she wanted to do her favorites.
“I think you know what I want to sing,” she said.
“You are so weird,” Artie said, but she knew he didn’t mean it. The first date he’d played a Katy Perry song for her was also the first time he said “I love you.”
They held hands under the table all through the other performances. When the MC looked at the piece of paper and read out “Tina C.,” Artie gave her a squeeze.
“Go get ‘em,” he said. And she got the mic and he prepared his guitar. When he was ready, he nodded. He played the first notes.
“This was never the way I planned, not my intention. I got so brave drink in hand…”
And it was perfect.
It was just like all of their best dates.
With her eyes closed, it was her and him and his guitar in one of their bedrooms. She could almost feel the sunlight streaming in from her window, and she could definitely sense the joyful, peaceful feeling that settled deep in her stomach whenever they made music together.
But when she opened her eyes to watch his nimble fingers on the strings, his forearms, his eyebrows knitted tight with concentration under those fringe bangs, they weren’t alone. And when she finished, instead of their usual silence before he launched into some classic rock or maybe started to wail out “La Bamba,” there was applause.
He smiled and started playing another of her favorites, Cake’s “Satan Is My Motor,” and afterwards, people were clapping for them. It was just a coffee shop, not a packed auditorium, but people weren’t cheering for New Directions. Not for Rachel’s solos or Mercedes’ embellishments or Matt’s dancing or the group’s fantastic harmonies. Just a girl and a guy with a guitar. Just Tina and Artie.
It felt so good.
Other people had a turn. About an hour later, Artie brought down the house with an energetic near-rap about metal detectors that was full of wordplay and humor and sarcasm.
And about an hour after that, they were at second base on his hotel bed without so much as a pause to warn Mike and Kurt that they’d probably want to find somewhere else to be (they’d figured it out quickly enough, smart guys).
“This has been the best Nationals ever,” she said.
Artie took his mouth away from her neck long enough to murmur, “But we haven’t even won yet.”
She smiled. His hands were so warm. His whole being was so warm.
“We don’t have to.”
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Artie/Tina
Word Count: 1,190
Rating: PG-13
Summary: At the 2011 Show Choir Nationals in New York City, Artie and Tina sneak away from the hotel for “secret date night.”
Rachel had her hands on her hips as Tina leaned over the bathroom sink and finished applying her eyeliner. “At least tell me where you’re going,” Rachel demanded, “so that if you get mugged and killed on the subway, we know where to start looking.”
“For the last time, she doesn’t know!” Mercedes yelled from the bedroom section of their hotel room.
It was true. Tina had no idea where she was going. Artie’s text had read “Secret date nite 2nite? y/y? Wont say where yet dont want Rachel to know. Pick u up @ 930.”
So of course she promptly replied yes and then she and Mercedes spent all afternoon between rehearsals brainstorming romantic spots in New York City. Mercedes had decided that it was going to be a super swanky restaurant. Tina hoped not, because after all of the long practice days leading up to here, to Nationals, the last thing she wanted to wear was her uniform, the only really nice clothes she’d brought.
It was 9:28. There was a soft knock on the door. Rachel glared as Mercedes let out a whoop and Tina grabbed her purse.
“Have fun!” Mercedes said. Tina opened the door.
Thankfully, Artie was dressed casually. He was in Converse high-tops and even jeans instead of slacks. Of course, there was no getting him out of those sweater vests-they’d been dating over a year and Tina had yet to confirm that he owned a single t-shirt. His guitar was balanced on his lap.
Ooh, guitar. She hadn’t considered that. She leaned forward and kissed him.
“You ready, girl?” he asked as they broke apart.
“You know it.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she glanced down the hall towards Mr. Schue’s room. She wasn’t too worried, though. Mercedes said she thought that Mr. Schue was having lady drama again, and that plus the stress of dealing with Nationals administration made him the least observant (read: best) chaperone ever.
Still, it wasn’t until they were safely in the elevator that she raised her voice. “So…where are we going?”
“I know how bummed you were about not getting a solo at Nationals. But I found an open mic night at a coffee shop not too far away,” he said, “if you’re still interested in making your New York City debut.”
She was so touched that she was momentarily speechless. She reached down and took his hand, and he smiled back at her. She used the back of her free hand to brush away a couple of happy tears.
“I didn’t want anyone else to know because they’d just want to come along and sing, too,” he added. “And frankly, I’m sick and tired of everyone’s voice but yours.”
“Thank you,” she said when she finally found her words.
Puck was in the lobby entertaining one of the girls from a rival choir. But he was pushed back into a dark corner, and looked so fully engrossed that he didn’t seem to notice them leave. Once they were on the street, Artie handed Tina his guitar to carry, and she accepted it carefully. He seemed confident in knowing where they were going, so she followed without worry.
“Are you going to sing, too?” she asked.
“No, but I’ll be your backup band, unless you want to do our duet,” he said. They’d been so close to getting Jason Mraz’ “I’m Yours” into the Nationals set list until Rachel announced it was “thematically incompatible” with the rest of the selections. It was true enough, but it still stung. “And I have been working on a new slam poem lately…”
That was an understatement. After an incident at airport security, he’d spent most of the plane ride from Lima scribbling over a piece of paper, muttering to himself.
“You should do it,” she said. “I bet the Def poetry scene’s better here than in Ohio.”
They found the coffee shop, fewer than four blocks away. In the fifteen minutes before the open mic started, she signed them up and bought a tea for her and a coffee for him, while Artie managed to convince everyone that they were freshman at Columbia. She hoped people believed him because they looked older and mature, and not because he was wearing nerd glasses and she was Asian.
“Do you have a set list in mind?” he asked as they settled in. “I say you should try to sneak in two.”
He had done all of this for her, of course, so she was tempted to request something romantic and sweet. Besides Jason Mraz, they did a really good “High Tide or Low Tide,” and once Tina filled a glee club assignment with a performance of Colbie Caillat’s “Bubbly” that even Finn called “so cute I think I just threw up in my mouth,” and this from a guy who serenaded a girl at least once a week.
But…
This was her solo, and she wanted to do her favorites.
“I think you know what I want to sing,” she said.
“You are so weird,” Artie said, but she knew he didn’t mean it. The first date he’d played a Katy Perry song for her was also the first time he said “I love you.”
They held hands under the table all through the other performances. When the MC looked at the piece of paper and read out “Tina C.,” Artie gave her a squeeze.
“Go get ‘em,” he said. And she got the mic and he prepared his guitar. When he was ready, he nodded. He played the first notes.
“This was never the way I planned, not my intention. I got so brave drink in hand…”
And it was perfect.
It was just like all of their best dates.
With her eyes closed, it was her and him and his guitar in one of their bedrooms. She could almost feel the sunlight streaming in from her window, and she could definitely sense the joyful, peaceful feeling that settled deep in her stomach whenever they made music together.
But when she opened her eyes to watch his nimble fingers on the strings, his forearms, his eyebrows knitted tight with concentration under those fringe bangs, they weren’t alone. And when she finished, instead of their usual silence before he launched into some classic rock or maybe started to wail out “La Bamba,” there was applause.
He smiled and started playing another of her favorites, Cake’s “Satan Is My Motor,” and afterwards, people were clapping for them. It was just a coffee shop, not a packed auditorium, but people weren’t cheering for New Directions. Not for Rachel’s solos or Mercedes’ embellishments or Matt’s dancing or the group’s fantastic harmonies. Just a girl and a guy with a guitar. Just Tina and Artie.
It felt so good.
Other people had a turn. About an hour later, Artie brought down the house with an energetic near-rap about metal detectors that was full of wordplay and humor and sarcasm.
And about an hour after that, they were at second base on his hotel bed without so much as a pause to warn Mike and Kurt that they’d probably want to find somewhere else to be (they’d figured it out quickly enough, smart guys).
“This has been the best Nationals ever,” she said.
Artie took his mouth away from her neck long enough to murmur, “But we haven’t even won yet.”
She smiled. His hands were so warm. His whole being was so warm.
“We don’t have to.”