Fondue for Two
"Kurt!" Rachel barked out as she set down her bedazzled pink laptop on the coffee table in the centre of their apartment.
"I'm coming," Kurt called from the kitchen. "I'm here, I'm queer, I've got popcorn. Why are we watching this again?" He asked as he set down the snacks and drinks.
"Brittany made me promise."
"To watch her web show?"
"Yes. She texted me to say it was uploaded twenty minutes ago. Sometimes she quizzes me afterwards to make sure I've seen it."
Kurt raised a perfectly manicured brow at this confession. Rachel shrugged sheepishly.
"I don't think she likes me very much."
"She likes you just fine, Rachel. She told me. Especially when you're being all quiet and silent and not provoking Santana."
"I don't provoke her! At least, not intentionally." Rachel harrumphed and reached over to click the screen. "Brittany was quite insistent about me watching this one. Said she'd know if I didn't watch it and if I was lucky I'd live to regret it for the rest of my life."
"If she's threatening you then you need to talk to Santana about it."
"It's only two minutes away from my busy schedule. I can sit through it, even though I never completely understand what Brittany talks about. I've no idea why she wants me to call her afterwards."
"I haven't watched 'Fondue for Two' since the incident with the live broadcast. I still have the mental scars from seeing all that girl flesh," Kurt shuddered. "Quickly, press play before I have a flashback."
"Oh!" Rachel's face lit up. "Of course! She must want my expert opinion. To use my showbiz expertise to critique and advise on how to improve her performance and begin to move out of the amateur showbiz league and into the big time."
Kurt scrunched up his nose. "I don't-"
Rachel cut him off.
"I should get credited surely. Special Guest Executive Producer – Rachel Barbra Berry. Or, Showbiz and Broadway Consultant – Ms. Rachel B. Berry."
"I'm pressing play now."
Two minutes thirty seconds later...
If someone walked into the HummelBerry loft at the moment the closing credits for the latest 'Fondue for Two' finished they'd be somewhat puzzled to find Rachel and Kurt sitting in front of a laptop staring at the now blank screen apparently frozen stiff. A burglar could have waltzed into the apartment, loaded up their extensive Broadway playbill collection, (joint custody), which included an original 'My Fair Lady' autographed by Julie Andrews, and the dynamic duo wouldn't have batted an eyelid.
They both wore matching expressions of abject shock. Jaws gaped open and all motor function had momentarily stalled. They sat there so long the beginnings of drool formation were visible.
The first sign of life was when Rachel's eyes began to shimmer with a build up of moisture. Kurt's mouth moved slightly as his chest heaved in an effort to take in oxygen. All of a sudden Rachel's arm flung out and she slapped Kurt in the chest violently winding him. Her hand found his shoulder and she pushed herself to her feet using him as a crutch all the while completely ignorant to him being doubled over in pain. She raised her hands to her face and was so overcome that the scream she attempted was so intense it came out silent.
Then she began to sob.
"Again! Kurt! Again! Do it again! Do it again!" Rachel spluttered.
Kurt raised his arm to his chest and, disregarding his Rachel-wrought discomfort, stared at the laptop as though not trusting the inanimate object. Rachel shook in her seat next to him and blubbered.
"Again, again! Kurt, is it real? Again, press it. I can't press it!" She shrieked.
"Water, water first," he gasped. "And oxygen. Water and oxygen." Kurt reached out next to the laptop and picked up a bottle of water. He downed it in one then wiped his brow. He leaned over and with a deep calming breath clicked the play button for the second time. Rachel gripped onto his arm as the opening titles blared obnoxiously, unnecessarily buffering them from the most important 'Fondue for Two' they had ever witnessed.
"Welcome to 'Fondue for Two'. I'm your host, Brittany S. Pierce. On cameras today, my beautiful, sexy and talented in many departments girlfriend, Santana Lopez. On sound and percussion, the 'Almighty' Lord Tubbington. And last but by no means least... on wardrobe and make-up, the before her time, multi talented, Sugar erstwhile Motta."
"Today, my special guest... who you may not have heard of because she is after her time, but that's okay because what's important is she is important to me. The one, the only, Ms Barbra Streisand!"
Brittany smirked into the camera.
A complete nuclear meltdown would have nothing on the Hummelberry loft after that mischievous smirk drove those words right into the very soul of Rachel Berry.
"I've died, I've died, I'm dead, Kurt, I'm dead. What's happening?" Rachel frantically fanned her eyes with her hands trying to dry the tears streaming down her face.
Kurt lifted his shirt tails up and wiped his face with them. "I'm sweating so much. Oh god, I'm sweating."
"IF THIS IS SOME PHOTOSHOP SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL SOMEONE. IS IT APRIL FOOLS?" Rachel grabbed Kurt by his collar and shook him. "IS IT? IS IT? TELL ME!"
"IT'S AUGUST, RACHEL, AND I DONT KNOW WHAT'S REAL ANYMORE BUT THIS SHIRT IS DRY CLEAN ONLY." Kurt yelled back at her.
A loud thudding from the ceiling interrupted them and indicated their neighbour's opinion on the matter.
"Babs, thank you for joining us."
"My pleasure, Brittany. It is an honour to be invited on to your legendary show," Barbra smiled at the camera.
Brittany beamed. "It sure is," she agreed.
Pierce-Lopez towers. Aka Apartment 14a, The Spirit of Lima Heights Adjacent, NYC
One hour earlier...
Santana opened the door to her apartment grumbling and struggling with her arms full of grocery bags and her purse in her mouth. She kicked the door shut behind her and spat her purse out onto the pile of shoes by the door. Readjusting the bags in her arms she made her way across the small open plan apartment.
"I don't see why we have to get her favourites in, she doesn't even live here," she muttered to herself. Glimpsing a woman sitting on her couch she nodded in greeting then continued concentrating on not dropping her shopping and dumped the bags on the side in the kitchen corner of the room. The bags fell and scattered multiple packs of pink wafers over the surface.
A couple of steps to the left and she was at the bathroom knocking on the door. Beyond it she could hear the shower running and her girlfriend singing.
"Britt, I know in your text you said to get broccoli but they didn't have any so I got cauliflower. No one will notice the difference when it's covered in cheese and chocolate. They all taste of vegetable."
There was no answer so she turned around and stared at the woman staring back at her from the couch.
"Hi, Santana."
Santana turned back and banged on the door, harder this time.
"Britt, there's a Barbra Streisand look-a-like in our apartment. Is this something to do with you?"
She turned back to find the woman watching her with amusement.
"After all we've been through together, don't I even get a hug anymore?"
The visitor chuckled at the look on Santana's face as it turned from confusion to a smile as she recognised the voice and threw herself across the small apartment hugging her tightly.
"I cant believe it's really you. I thought because the air con was broken at the grocery store the heat had cooked my brain and I was seeing things," Santana said into Barbra's neck as she squeezed her.
"Let me look at you," Barbra pushed her away at arms length holding onto Santana's wrist and looked her up and down. "You look happy."
They both glanced over at the sound of the shower stopping as Santana's ears pinked. "Yeah," she said shyly and tried to hide her warm cheeks by leading her back to the couch. "Where did Brittany find you?"
"You make it sound like she found me on a street corner."
"Well no, I mean-"
"Relax, kid. I know what you mean. She saw my name on the billboard outside the theatre I'm performing with and walked right in. I tell ya, that kid is going places."
"Not that I'm not happy to see you, because I am! But, did she kidnap you? Because we talked about that after the last time and-"
"No, Honey. Your girl invited me on her world famous web show to chew the fat. I'm really looking forward to it, this is going to be amazing. She told me you're making us dinner too."
"I am? She did? What?"
"Best get on that. Mine's Hawaiian. She also mentioned something about Sugar. I'm not certain exactly what that means in regards to pizza... any ideas?"
"It means I'm going to have to share mine, even if I get her favourite in," Santana muttered. "Uh... right... Sugar..."
"Yes, Sugar's coming too." Brittany stepped out of the bathroom in a shirt and tie, her hair wrapped in a towel.
Santana stared wide eyed, looking a bit bewildered until Brittany walked past, stopping to lean down and give her a kiss.
"She is? I thought she went back to... you know, that place she comes from."
"Fifth avenue?"
"She wishes."
"Sugar wanted to help film some 'Fondue for Two' so I said she could come over. I didn't know I'd be getting such an awesome guest," Brittany fist pumped into the air. "Double whammy!"
"Uh, Britt, are you sure this is such a good idea?"
"Wait, Sugar is a person?" Barbra asked.
"Sure is," Brittany grinned. "You'll love her."
"Okay then. So, anything exciting happened since the last time I saw you at your Nationals competition?"
Santana froze in a hazy flashback of time machines and doubles and confusing people from the future.
Brittany chuckled, "No more than usual."
Santana tugged Barbra's sleeve, distracting her from watching Brittany ready the 'Fondue' set under direction of Lord Tubbington in the corner of their room.
"Listen, Sugar...she um... You should know... She might not make a lot of sense but in context she's not crazy. Probably. I'm not sure."
"Okay...
"She's before her time. Just so you know, you know?"
"That's always good to know. Thanks, Santana." Barbra looked away, distracted. "Tell me, is that cat giving Brittany set up instructions?"
Brittany flung open the drapes to reveal the view looking out on to the brick wall opposite. She looked down to the short furry person sitting next to her perched on the table his face suspiciously close to the fondue pot. "You're right, the natural light does help."
"Uh huh," hummed Santana. "It's okay though, he knows what he's doing. He's done this loads of times."
A knock at the door caught Lord Tubbington's attention and he flung himself off the coffee table to the floor with a thud and trotted to the door.
"I cant tell if that means the pizza is here or it's Sugar," mused Santana. "They're the only two things he'll move for."
"Let me in before I catch an infectious disease from this corridor!" A muffled voice could be heard.
The cat looked back over his shoulder and meowed at Santana.
"Why's everyone so bossy?" she sighed, getting up and making her way to the door.
Sugar sat on a footstool in front of the sofa and stared at the face in front of her like an art critic peering at a painting. Her eyes narrowed then widened as she carefully studied the woman looking back at her with the air of someone not sure if their barbecue ribs are about to catch fire or not. Sugar took one hand off the furry lump of lard who had happily settled on her lap and was purring enough to rattle the windows out of their frames, according to Santana, and reached forward to poke Barbra on the nose.
"It's real."
Barbra looked over to Santana for translation.
"Hehehe," Santana laughed nervously. "Such a joker."
"Wow." Sugar peered intently at Barbra. "I've only ever seen a cardboard cut-out of you before. I mean, I might have met you when I was a baby but the early years must have been a trip because I cant remember anything before I was three."
"It's 2014," Santana hissed. "Stop being weird."
"Oh yeah, duh," Sugar chuckled at herself. "Sometimes I forget the year," she explained to Barbra. "That's a thing that happens."
"You remind me of someone, I just cant place it," mused Barbra. "It's possible we have met before, I guess. Uh," Barbra shifted in her seat under Sugar's intense scrutiny. "I like your top." Barbra waved a hand at the pink and black tiger striped blazer and gold lettered t-shirt Sugar wore.
"I knew I liked you," Sugar beamed. "You're my favourite singer from the olden times. I made it myself."
"You've got an eye for it. Eye catching and original."
Sugar beamed happily.
"You should mention that to my mom and maybe say you endorse my application for a Vogue internship, that's be awesome. My parents told me about you, they met you in Ve- oooof!" Sugar shut up as the wind was knocked out of her lungs by Santana's elbow in her ribs.
"San!" Brittany admonished, walking up to them with pizza boxes in her arms.
"Sorry, slipped," Santana muttered as Sugar glared at her and rubbed her side.
"I'll tell my Mami you did that."
"Oooh, I'm so scared. I don't think."
"San, can you pay the pizza guy?" Brittany smiled at her girlfriend. Sugar and Barbra snickered as Santana jumped up immediately.
"Sure, babe," she smiled and kissed Brittany on the cheek as she went past to pay for their food.
Brittany sat down in the vacated spot and winked at her guests.
"Still got it," Barbra commented.
"Always got it," Brittany grinned.
"Britt, honey, my agent would flip a shit if he saw me do some of these." Barbra flicked through the notebook where Brittany had written down some messages for a new post credits segment for Fondue for Two called 'A word from our sponsor'.
"Can you pick out the ones you will do?"
"Sure. Not this one."
"That looks like Sugar's handwriting."
"Not this one."
"That's Santana's handwriting."
"I cant even read this one. Something about tuna."
"Oh that's about fishing. Lord Tubbington is a huge supporter of sustainable fishing methods. He wont eat anything that's not caught off a pole and line. No trawling or nets."
"And this one?"
"Reforestation. More trees equals more birds which means more happy cats."
"What's going on over there?" Barbra asked Brittany while Santana had a furious whispered one sided conversation with Sugar who was pulling weird and wonderful faces in response while investigating the food cupboard in the kitchen looking for dessert.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Brittany said seriously. "When we have kids will you be godmother?" she asked hopefully.
"Sweetie, that was kind of out of the left field but, I'd be honoured. Does your girl know you're having kids?"
"Of course she does. It's inevitable."
"Always the godmother, never the god."
They both watched as Santana watched in horror as Sugar piled a plate of pink cookies as high as she could without them toppling off. She then held out an apple but Sugar waved it off and plonked herself down with the plate of pink.
"We only have two minutes so I'm going to fit in as many questions as I can in that time and just answer them with your gut instinct, okay?"
"Okay. Let's do it."
"Is it true you were involved with NASA in the seventies and you helped fake the last moon landing to hide the fact that strange artefacts were found on the dark side of the moon?"
"Not true."
"Favourite animal?"
"...cats."
Brittany looked off to the side and nodded.
"Beer or spirits?"
"Spirits."
"Do you believe in time travel?"
"Yes, of course."
Sugar could be heard clapping her hands off screen.
"Is it true that Seth Rogan is your son?"
"Who's Seth Rogan?"
"Your son."
"Um..., no. I can safely say he is not my son."
"Who's your favourite... me or Santana?"
"Uh... I could never choose between you."
"Good answer. You're currently working in New York on a top secret project no one can know about. Why can't you tell anyone about it? What can you tell us about it?"
"I'm producing a musical. We're in the rehearsal and production stage so far. It's called 'Funny Bones'."
"What was your best joke from your days as a comedian?"
"... uh, a joke... What kind of cheese wants to take over the world? … Hallouminati."
"That's my favourite cheese," Brittany giggled in delight. "I like the noise it makes. Sadly, it doesn't melt well. What's your favourite cheese?"
"Feta."
Santana and Sugar exchanged a look behind the camera. This could descend into dangerous cheesy joke territory.
With a nod of the head Sugar scribbled a sign and held it up. It read, '15 seconds.'
"And that's all we've got time for. Thank you to the best guest ever Barbra Streisand!"
"Thank you for having me."
"You can come back any time, you don't need an invitation, only your credit card details. Some people find that hard to understand sometimes."
A cough came from off camera sounding decidedly like the word 'Rachel'.
"Join us next time where we will be delving into the dangerous world of underage amphibian racing. Goodnight!"
Later that evening Barbra had bid her farewells with a promise for them to attend one of her concerts and an open letter of recommendation for Sugar to do whatever she pleased. Santana entered the apartment after having walked Barbra to where her driver was waiting for her along the street.
"You're still here," she noted Sugar sprawled across the sofa and currently watching the TV upside down.
"Rude."
"Sugar's staying the night," Brittany informed her through the wall of the bedroom without even leaving the room she was in.
"It's okay, my parents know," Sugar stuck her tongue out at Santana.
"Fine but you're clearing up this mess," Santana indicated the mess of pizza boxes and cans and bottles. Sugar scrunched her nose up in disgust. "And you have to sleep on the couch. That bed doesn't fit three and a cat."
"It does if you don't take up as much of the bed as you possibly can," Sugar huffed. "Britt!"
"She can sleep in the bed," Brittany called again from the bedroom.
"So, what did you think?" Santana asked as she picked up Sugar's legs and sat down under them placing them on her lap.
"She's cool for an old person. I wish I'd known her before."
"Why wouldn't you know her already?"
Sugar flipped channels looking for a distraction. "She uh... well you know she's like... busy. Superstar busy."
"I guess."
Santana's phone buzzed under a pizza box and as she uncovered it a sly grin slid over her face and caught Sugar's attention. "Who is it?"
"It's Kurt," she grinned, and tapped answer. "Hello?"
"Santana, it's Kurt."
"Kurt who?"
"You know damn well who."
"I don't think I know anyone named Kurt."
"Listen. Rachel fainted."
Santana burst into laughter and when she'd gathered her breath said, "Don't bother coming over, she's gone."
"I don't think I'll be able to stop her when she wakes up."
"If she steals anything that Bab's touched I'll slap her."
"How did-"
Santana hung up.
"So close," Kurt said, mournfully. He looked over at Rachel who was twitching with vivid dreams where she lay unconscious on their couch.
a/n. thanks lulu