Summary: Six years ago, Santana Lopez disappeared following graduation. The costs for therapy and rehab to get out of her chair, made Quinn Fabray realize she couldn't have Yale, so she went with her second acceptance - NYU. Rachel Berry missed out on NYADA but made it into Tisch, only to find herself as roommates with Quinn after tearing herself away from Finn to go to New York. Eventually a gin soaked night led to a tormented relationship that eventually was surrendered to save their fading friendship. When Rachel finally managed to land a Broadway lead under Quinn's management, they were shocked by who showed up for the latest opening as Rachel's assistant.
Chapter One
It was a warm day for the early fall. Santana lay on the blanket soaking up the sun rays. It had been the longest four years of her life, but it had also been the best. She sometimes felt as if she hadn't slept at all the last few years - something she shared with the rest of her former friends and classmates at WMHS. She left Lima the minute she was awarded her diploma, packing up her small car and heading leaving.
"Mommy?" A small voice chirped pulling Santana off of her thoughts. A little girl in worn overalls and a black turtleneck ran over and plopped on her stomach.
"Yes, Beautiful?" Santana smiled as she looked at her four year old daughter. "Did you have fun playing with Pedro?"
"Pedro is mean." She scowled. Santana sat up on her elbows and looked at her daughter. "He say I'm stupid."
"Said, baby. He said... but he's stupid," Santana said as she looked over at the boy still playing on the swings. "Don't listen to him."
"Okay, Mommy," she whispered before moving to lie on her mother.
Santana smiled and cuddled her daughter as she looked over the information sheet the temp agency had sent over for the new position she was to interview for. She needed to find a new job badly. She had been working as a temp for the last year and that had become more of a hassle than ever. The inconsistent hours made having a secure income very difficult. She knew she needed to do better for her little girl and she needed to find a job with better hours and more stability. She had gotten a call earlier in the day that was going to be put on a new job on Monday, so Santana just hoped that she could make this one stick for longer than a few weeks. She wrapped her arms around her daughter and closing her eyes as they lounged in Central Park under the midday sun.
Quinn Fabray was not having a good day.
First, Rachel had managed to horrify or intimidate - she wasn't entirely sure which - yet another personal assistant into quitting. Second, her coffee machine had decided that this morning was the day to die - and do so in a way that got coffee all down her outfit prompting a change that had led her to being too late to stop and get coffee on the way in. Third, she had to sort through a stack of potential new PAs for Rachel and not even a third of them were remotely acceptable.
Honestly, she loved Rachel as a sister these days, but her diva tirades whenever things weren't going perfectly was something she could really do without. Finally being able to afford to get her own apartment last year had been a blessing. She'd been starting to wonder how much longer she could deal with Broadway showtunes and the annoying whine of the girl's elliptical machine at six in the morning every morning.
Now though, she had to deal with Rachel's headstrong perfectionist attitudes without being able to bark her back into line that night. And all of the resultant "I quit!" phone calls from harried assistants. Being able to sleep in was so worth it though. She turned to the next folder, flipping over the cover and almost having to physically stop herself from double-taking at the name emblazoned on the top.
Santana Lopez.
She chuckled to herself, shaking her head as the moment of startled recognition passed. There was no way it was the same girl she used to be best friends with. That Santana hadn't even waited to say goodbye before tearing out of Lima like something was chasing her. The world just wasn't small enough for her to have a resume land on Quinn's desk.
She scanned through the resume, noting qualifications that made her smile. By the time she turned the last page, she was nodding happily. This one was definitely a potential. She dropped it onto the stack of three other resumes that had passed her criteria and would be getting a call to schedule an interview once she'd finished looking through the fifty or so resumes the company had sent her.
When Monday rolled around, Santana begrudgingly got up with her daughter and got them both ready. She picked up her still sleepy little girl up as they left the tiny run down basement apartment and headed towards the subway. She sat down and ran her hand through her daughter's messy black hair and pulled it into a ponytail. She stopped by a street vendor and got a bagel and a coffee. She cut it in half and gave her daughter the larger half to munch on while they waited on the bench outside the building. Santana was early for her interview, but she needed to meet the babysitter before she headed inside.
"Mommy?" the girl asked as she munched her bagel. "Play with me today?"
"Not today, Brooke," Santana said sadly. "Mommy needs to go to work so you're going to go with Mrs. Gonzalez today." Brooklyn pouted and looked down. "I'll try to be home earlier today. Okay? I can pick us up some food and we can have a picnic dinner."
"Really?" she asked, brightening. "Yes, please." Santana smiled and kissed her baby's head when she saw the older woman coming over.
"Hey Rita." Santana smiled as she stood up and hugged the older woman. "Thank you for watching her today." Brooklyn finished her breakfast and stood up and looked at the women.
"No problem." Rita smiled and gazed down at the girl, "Ready to play, mariposa?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Brooklyn said softly as she hugged Santana's leg. The young mother crouched down and hugged her daughter tightly. "Love you, mommy."
"Love you more than anything, baby," Santana said as she watched her daughter toddle away with her babysitter. Santana drank the rest of her coffee and headed into the building. She ducked into the bathroom and straightened out her dress pants and gray button up. She left her hair long with a slight wave flowing over her shoulders. She sighed and headed up to the 8th floor and headed into the door numbered three twenty-five.
The receptionist looked up with a smile. "Welcome to the Smithson Talent Agency. Can I help you?"
"Hi... I have a nine o'clock interview?" she said as she walked over to the counter. "My name's Santana Lopez."
"Lopez, Lopez..." The woman nodded and looked down her computer screen. "Ah! Here we are. Alright, Ms Lopez, if you'll just sign on here," she handed her the clipboard with the visitor log, "and have a seat, I'll call Ms. Fabray to come get you."
Santana's eyebrows furrowed. "Fabray?" she asked as she wrote her name on the paper. She moved away and sat down crossing her legs as her mind raced. She hadn't heard that name in four years. She can't say that she hadn't thought about her former best friend over the years, but she knew that she lost all hope of being friends with the blonde the minute she saw the positive sign on her pregnancy test.
"Ms. Fabray, your nine o'clock is here," the receptionist spoke into the intercom on her desk before smiling at Santana. "Yes, Quinn Fabray. She's been doing quite a lot of interviews lately. I hope you make it."
"Son of a bitch," Santana muttered and started to get up and grab her bag when she heard the click of high heels against wood.
"S-Santana?" Quinn's voice was a blast from the past. A little deeper maybe, but still the same soft soprano. "Is that really you? God, I saw your name on the resume but I never thought... it's you, isn't it. From Lima."
"Uh." The other woman looked up, "Hey, um, I didn't know that... I didn't know that you'd be here."
"Well, I didn't know you'd be here so we're even." She stepped back against the door she'd held open, gesturing into the office, "Why don't you come in and we can talk about the position you applied for?"
Santana thought about bailing for a few moments, then the face of her daughter popped into her head and she had to suck up her pride. "Yeah. Okay," Santana said as she pulled her purse over her shoulder and followed Quinn into the office.
"So," Quinn started, sitting down and gesturing at the visitor chair. "You're looking to be a personal assistant. Do you know who you'll be working with? Any idea at all."
"As long as they're not racist or sexist I don't really have a care in the world." She sat down and tried to pull her adult and professional exterior on. "I just really need a new job."
Quinn folded her hands on the desk and looked at her once best friend for a long moment. "And if I tell you it's Rachel Berry?" Her tone was cool and she watched Santana carefully for a reaction that would make the decision she'd half made already a bad one.
Santana took several deep breaths. This couldn't be happening. She closed her eyes and thought of her daughter, about the fact Christmas would be coming in a few months and the fact she had to pay rent. She opened her eyes and clutched her hands together. "Doesn't matter as long as you'd understand that I can't travel overnight if I were to get the position."
Quinn nodded slowly. "Why not? Personal assistants are pretty much required to. Be up front with me, Santana, and I'll see you start today if you want. Frankly, right now, you're the only one who knows Berry's attitude enough to put up with her and not get scared off. So you tell me right now why you need limits put in place and if the reason's good, I'll make sure she understands and doesn't push."
"I have commitments I have to put first," she said honestly. "I can do anything else... but I need notification if she needs me to work past seven a night or before six in the morning." Santana rubbed her wrist as she spoke. "I can start today."
"Santana, I get commitments. Look around, I'm buried in commitments every day. What I need is a reason," she frowned, shuffling papers. "Rachel is going to throw an absolute fit if I don't have something to get her the hell off my back and I do not want to deal with it. You can start in an hour if you can give me a good reason. Now can you or can't you? Nebulous commitments don't count."
"God, Fabray!" Santana groaned. "I wanna be able to see my goddamn child, alright?" she said blinking furiously. "She won't go to bed if I'm not home, alright?" She spat. "Now fuck Rachel if she doesn't think I can get her coffee and find her dry cleaning before I go home."
Quinn's brows rose noticeably in surprise. "A child? You have a daughter? Oh... my. Well, yes, I suppose that is a good reason." She picked up her pen and jotted something down before tapping it against her lips, "If Rachel does need to go out of town, would you be able to go with her if we made arrangements for your child and a caretaker to come along? This is totally out of the ordinary, Santana. I'm only offering because we were friends once."
"Yes, I can go if she can come with me." Santana said, "But I don't need a caretaker." She looked down at the small black and gray tattoo of a butterfly on her wrist that had the initials B.R.L. "But, I can go if she can come."
"You might want that caretaker spot later, so I'll leave it in the contract as a rider," Quinn sounded mildly distracted as she made another notation on the paperwork at her desk. "Okay. So... down to the important things since you know Rachel already. Salary and benefits. What are you expecting? Or maybe I should ask what you're hoping for."
"I would be hoping for a decent salary... but I would really like health care that covers my dependent." She swallowed, not wanting to talk about her daughter to Quinn of all people.
Quinn sighed, running a hand over her hair as she tried to figure out what she could do to offer Santana benefits. "First, you've got to handle Rachel. The last six quit within days. If I know her, she'll try to cover your out of pockets for your kid if I let her. She's kind of obsessive about kids being with their parents after her dads were mostly absent when she was growing up. Hell, if you ask, she'll probably let you bring yours to work if you need to and she's quiet."
"My daughter will not be coming to work," Santana said. "As much as it's a mind trip to be here and working for you and Berry... I will not be bringing her to work." Santana rolled her neck. "As for the other people, I don't have that problem. I didn't quit for three years of Glee, and I wasn't even getting paid."
"Good and whatever," Quinn sighed, looking over the documents again. "I can't offer benefits straight off. That's impossible. But I'll work on it and hopefully if you can last at least a month, I can get HR to sign off on it. Up to that point... how does sixty strike you?"
"Sounds perfect." Santana said, "So, what is she doing? What should I expect?"
"She is working Broadway and is being a total diva pain in the ass," Quinn sighed. "You are quite possibly the first thing going right that's come into my office today. At least I know you won't put up with her crap. This is her first lead and frankly she needs a wrangler more than a PA, but I only have the authority to get her a PA. And she eats them alive with her demands. Sure you're up to it?"
"Yep," Santana said softly. "I can handle this. I haven't really had the best couple years so handling Berry will be a walk in the park."
"Well, just because you're her assistant doesn't mean she gets to treat you like her slave. You've got carte blanche to handle her as you see fit. Got it?" Quinn leaned back in her chair and regarded her former friend. "It's really amazing to see you again, Santana. Even if you did blow out of Lima without so much as a goodbye."
"It's good to see you too," she said. "I know I just bounced but I really didn't have anything to stay for and I didn't want to deal with my situation. Not after everything." She swallowed. "I fucked up and I just needed to go."
"Apparently," she shrugged, tossing her pen on the desk. "Stay in touch this time, okay?" She reached across the desk to shake Santana's hand. "Welcome to the Dealing With Rachel Berry family, Santana."
The dark haired girl laughed and stood up. She shook her former friend's hand. "Thanks." She smiled softly, "So... I'm starting today. You gonna tell me where to go?"
"I'm on my way there actually," Quinn shrugged, standing up and grabbing her purse. "Papers for the diva to sign." She held up a folder. "Want a ride?"
"Yeah, sure," Santana said as she stood up and pulled her phone out of her pocket. As they walked down, Santana dialed her daughter's sitter. "Rita? Hey. Yeah. I got that job. Can you keep Brooke until six tonight? Okay... Lemme talk to mi mariposa?" She smiled when the little voice came onto the phone. "Hey, babe. You being good? Okay, mommy has to work still so I'll pick you up later but we can still have our picnic dinner okay?" She smiled as they headed outside, "Alright, beautiful. Go play... Te amo." She whispered and hung up as she followed Quinn.
"Sounds like you really love your kid," Quinn remarked, punching the elevator button for the building's garage once Santana joined her inside. "Who's the lucky man or well, woman I guess. One of those IVF things?"
"Quinn... I'm twenty-two years old..." She shook her head. "Do you really think that I had IVF?" She cocked her head to the side and looked at the blonde. "It's just Brooklyn and me."
"Oh, well, I supposed it was possible," she shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "Just a grand prize from a one-night stand then, huh? Kinda like Beth only you didn't have to give her up."
"I guess." Santana shrugged, "I was nearly three years older than you though..."
"Three years is a big difference." She shrugged as the doors opened and she lead the way out to the compact little Isuzu parked in a corner of the garage. "Emotionally and mentally you were more ready than I was. Wish I'd been that ready when I had Beth." Unlocking the doors, she got in, motioning Santana to the other side. "Buckle up."
Santana buckled up and looked out the window. "It's different." Santana sighed, "I wasn't ready. I'm still not but I have a four year old and she's my world." She ran her hand over her tattoo and looked straight forward. "Look... I can't... I'm sorry, I let you down when you were pregnant."
"Yeah, well, not like you were the only one," Quinn shrugged, starting the car and carefully backing out. "I was way too young. Trust me, I never made that mistake again. Anyway, Berry's still Berry but well, I don't know, maybe it's just me, but she seems a little more tolerable now. Of course, I lived with her for three years of college and we only stopped being roommates last year."
"Ew. You lived with Berry?" She made a face, "God your little car accident really did fuck your head up." She joked, "Are you happy you didn't end up at Yale now?"
"Berry didn't exactly make it into NYADA either." She shrugged, "NYU wasn't so bad, though I was shocked when I got the offer of a full ride academic scholarship. There was no way I'd be able to afford Yale after my accident and the medical bills from being in the hospital so long. Heck, I was lucky to graduate after being out so long."
"Well with Berry and me bringing your ass work everyday you seemed to be okay." She smiled as she looked at the blonde. "I'm glad you enjoyed college even though you had to live with Rachel."
"Rachel's not so bad," she glanced over at Santana for just a moment. "She's just obsessive about Broadway and very, very true to herself. She's also incredibly loyal if you let her be. God, I was so stupid in high school. She was offering support and friendship at every turn, but I just was so caught up in myself I couldn't accept it. You too. I'm sorry I was a shitty friend, Santana."
"Please, I was a bitch to you for four years. I was chasing relationships that would never work out for no reason. I ruined everything by following around someone who would never love me and ignored you warning me about her."
She shrugged again. "You were in love and it really wasn't my place to tell you who to be in a relationship. Not like any of mine have ever gone well."
"The only one of mine that has ever lasted is with Brooke." Santana shrugged, "Yeah, I talk about my kid all the time because she's the only thing I have..."
"Santana, your daughter doesn't count as a relationship unless something really sick has happened with you since I knew you last." Quinn cocked a brow at her. "But it's okay. I talk about Beth a lot since I got to meet her senior year and I don't even have her. I just try to live my life, probably the same as you."
"You nasty, Q." Santana groaned. "That's my kid!" She shook her head and looked away, "But, I haven't had a relationship since Brittany so yeah... I can say that mine haven't worked out." She turned back to Quinn and sighed. "I know now that pushing a infant out of your cunt hurts like hell and wrecks your ability to think about anything but that little girl."
"Jesus, San!" Quinn frowned and shook her head, "I know pushing out a baby hurts like hell and totally fucks up your life, but that's no reason to give up, you know?"
"That's the difference between you and me... She didn't fuck up my life. She makes it worth living and she is my life," Santana retorted. "She is my everything."
"Okay, geez, don't get your panties in a twist. Obviously, you didn't get as screwed over as I did." Quinn sighed and focused on her driving.
"Whatever," Santana said as she looked out the window.
When they got to the theater, Rachel was on stage for a dress rehearsal as the cast worked out some new piece of blocking that the director had decided on. She was pacing and gesturing to the other actors, but without the microphones or the cast really projecting like they would during a show, what was being said was lost. She couldn't see Quinn and Santana slipping into the theater via one of the audience doors against the darkness they were moving through so she just continued with the rehearsal.
Santana looked around, slightly awestruck by the theatre. She had been in New York for almost five years and she had never been in one of the theatres. She watched as the girl she used to know stood on the stage like she belonged, as it was an extension of her body. "She looks taller," Santana whispered as she looked over to Quinn.
Quinn smirked, "It's the costume. I think they put lifts in the shoes this time. She's still tiny. But she belongs up there," there was a fondness in her smile as she looked up at the young woman moving about the stage, "don't you think?"
"Yeah," Santana said softly, not sure if she's proud of her former teammate or jealous that her dreams came true.
"You know, you're still pretty attractive for a mom. Do you still sing?" Quinn asked, hearing a note of jealousy in Santana's voice, "I could try and get you an audition somewhere if you stick around."
"So are you." Santana raised her eyebrow. "I sing my kid to sleep. Doing anything else would cause me to be away too long."
"Well, if you ever want to give it a shot." She smirked. "I am a talent agent these days. Not exactly what I planned, but you can't have everything." She looked up at the sound of the director calling a wrap. "Come on, let's go see the diva."
Santana nodded and followed Quinn closer to the stage. She looked up as she saw Rachel coming close to them. She was suddenly nervous to face someone else from her past.
"Hi," Rachel smiled coming over, squinting against the bright klieg lights, "are you the new assistant Quinn found for me? I hope you're better than the last incompetent buffoon I had foisted off on me. I swear, that bimbo couldn't find her ass with both hands, let alone know the difference between a vegan non-fat frappachino and a non-vegan one. Ugh, seriously the people the agency sends and oh my God! Santana!? Santana Lopez? Is that you?!"
"Yep." Santana said, shoving her hands into her pocket. "I got hired because unlike your other personal slaves, I won't take your shit." She looked up to her new boss and raised her eyebrow.
"And let's be clear up front, Rach," Quinn stepped in getting her attention, "you can not fire any more assistants. If you manage to chase Santana off, I'm not hiring you another one. You can get your own damn fancy coffee crap."
"Quinn," Rachel rolled her eyes, "let's be rational about this. If she doesn't work out -"
"No," Quinn cut her off. "Santana is your last chance. Got it?"
Santana just wore an amused smirk and took a mental note of Rachel's coffee. "So yeah, let's get this shit started. I think you said you liked vegan non-fat frappes? I can go get one for you, let you and Quinn squawk about the fact she hired me after be bolting four years ago."
"Yeah, sure," Rachel waved her off, intent on Quinn. "Quinn, stop being so childish. Assistants are a dime a dozen in this city."
"Yes, and I've gone through most of them trying to find someone to handle your tyrannical ass," Quinn glowered at her. "I'm not doing it any more."
"I'm sure out of all of those you should have been capable of finding one who was competent." Rachel rolled her eyes.
"I have. Santana. That's it. No more."
At some point, Santana slipped off to go get Rachel's coffee. She just shook her head mumbling something about this being a bad idea.
"Santana will be the worst of them all, Quinn!" Rachel huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "She's petty and mean and not reliable."
"And you're not?" Quinn laughed, shaking her head, her hands firmly planted on her hips. "Santana isn't the one who made the last two girls run off crying, Rachel. She didn't drop the off-Broadway show just because this one started up. She's not the one blowing a gasket over a damn coffee. The only petty, mean and unreliable person around here right now is you, so get off your high horse and start acting like the talented star I know you are and not the petty diva you like to be!"
"She just ran away for no good reason!" Rachel scowled, "She left Brittany a crying mess and just left after everything we all went through the last few months of school! I'm still mad that she hurt everyone. And, damn it, Quinn, my coffee is important! It's how I can judge whether or not I can give them more important things to do!"
"Jesus, Rachel, would you just shut up about that! Brittany had been breaking her heart for years and you didn't care about it then," she shook her head. "You know what? You're just a selfish little brat, the same as always. Santana left to take care of her kid. She had responsibilities more important than playing around waiting to get hurt again and if you can't understand that, I'm really wondering where the Rachel I thought I knew went."
"She has a child?" Rachel's voice softened. "It doesn't matter because you've found your friend again, you don't need me anymore," Rachel complained as she turned away from Quinn. Before the blonde could reply to Rachel, Santana walked back down the aisle with two drinks in her hand. "Vegan non-fat frap for you and soy chai latte for Quinn... I wasn't sure if you still liked the same thing." She shrugged. "Plus, I determined that living with her made you at least somewhat vegan so I took a shot."
Rachel blinked and accepted the cup with a vague sort of uncertainty. Taking a sip, she stared fixedly at Santana over the rim of the cup. "You," she pulled it away and stared at it in shock. "This is perfect..."
Quinn smirked, "Thanks, San. See, Rachel? Competent. And she won't put up with your crap any more than I will."
"It's coffee... not rocket science." Santana said softly, "I really need you to get over whatever issues you have with me. This is the best job I can get and I'd like to keep it."
"I... I," Rachel stuttered, looking between the coffee she hadn't even had to ask for and Santana and back repeatedly.
"What Ms Eloquent is trying to say," Quinn smirked at her, "is she's glad you're here and she's thrilled," she gave Rachel a pointed look, "to have you as her assistant."
Rachel shook her head as if knocking herself out of a daze. "Um, yes... yes. That's right." She smiled tentatively and held out a hand, "Truce? Let bygones be bygones?"
"Sure." Santana said shaking her new boss's hand. "So, yeah... stop gaping at me and tell me what I needs to get to work on?"
"Um," Rachel rubbed at her neck, a habit she'd picked up from Quinn, "to be honest, I wasn't exactly expecting Quinn to find me an assistant until tomorrow. I think I'm mostly done for today," she glanced at the director who nodded and waved her off, "so if you'd like to get lunch, we can discuss your responsibilities and hours? My treat."
"Yeah, that sounds good." Santana replied, not really wanting to go but knowing she couldn't blow Rachel off on the first day, hell in the first few hours.
"I hope you don't mind anything fancier than a meal in the park," Rachel headed off after scribbling her signature on the papers Quinn thrust at her, assuming Santana would follow her. "I usually just grab a falafel pita from the cart outside. One of the only vegan options and I was shocked that he actually did make it vegan. A pleasant surprise. I'll tell Quinn you were with me all day if you want, she knows I usually send my assistant off early anyway. It's creepy being followed around by someone all the time."
"I bet." Santana mumbled, "I'm good with whatever... Fancy for me these days is Subway so you know my standards are not really that high."
"What's wrong with Subway?" she glanced back at Santana confused. "I eat there when I can. It's just the cart is closer. Get whatever you want," she added, ordering her sandwich. "The least I can do is buy my assistant lunch and before you start, it's a habit I started when Quinn insisted I try being nicer after the first one broke down. They simply don't make assistants with good staying power anymore."
"Or that can put up with child sized divas," she remarked, before asking for chicken and rice knowing she could take most of it home for her and Brooklyn. Once they had food in hand Santana followed Rachel to the park and sat down next to her on the bench.
"You always have a way with words," Rachel rolled her eyes, huffing slightly as she sat down. "I suppose I should be grateful you're not calling me Hobbit or Yentl anymore. Now, hours. I know my life can be fairly insane, but at least I'm not a doctor. I'm more likely to be out to all hours than have random emergencies and I generally know what nights I will be out. What I want to know from you is when you would most prefer to not be called to assist me. I am perfectly capable of going without an assistant if need be after all and I'm certain Quinn has set you up as a salaried employee due to the irregular hours you might find yourself working as my assistant."
"I'd prefer few nights. If you need me I can arrange it, but I will not be able to assist you at night until after eight PM," She said sternly. "It's not negotiable. I need to be home from six to eight at night and after those times if you need me I can make arrangements."
"Good. Most of the nights I might need you to work nights, things wouldn't start until closer to ten and I loathe staying out past midnight unless it's a major event. Oh! Should I be nominated for an award, would you be willing to serve as my accompaniment for the ceremony should I be unable to arrange for a date in time?"
"Those things have pretty set dates so yes, but I doubt you'd need me when I'm sure you have a dude hanging around or a gay best friend... or even Quinn to take." She laughed before taking a small bite of food. "But, sure."
"I took Quinn when we were dating in college after I was nominated for a small part," Rachel mumbled offhandedly as she took a bite. Chewing and swallowing, she continued, "It was such an unmitigated disaster than she promptly initiated a standing refusal to accompany me to such an event. The sex was fairly outstanding after, though I think it was from sheer frustration."
Santana choked on her rice as she let the words settle in, once she found her breath she gaped at Rachel. "What the fuck?" she cursed, "Ew... mental image!" she grimaced, "I did not need to know that!"
"What?" Rachel looked at her curiously. "It's hardly anything to be ashamed of. Quinn is an entirely desirable woman and imminently flexible when it comes to bedroom activities. Unfortunately, though the sex was amazing, our compatibility is limited to merely friendship. Pity. She makes the most adorable noises when she climaxes." Shrugging, she went back to eating her sandwich.
"Stop... please, God, stop!" Santana exclaimed. "I do not ever want to know about you and Q fucking! God, if I hadn't sworn off sex already... you just killed any desire I had left!" She honestly looked like she was going to throw up at the information being carelessly tossed around.
"Sworn off sex?" Rachel turned her attention to her directly, looking surprised. "That doesn't seem like you, Santana. You still have the same very sensual manner of moving. I would assume you could get any woman... or man you set your sights on."
"Eh... I've got twenty-seven pounds of baggage hanging on me all the time," she shrugged and took another bit of her food.
"Oh yes, the child that Quinn mentioned," she nodded, taking another bite and chewing thoughtfully. "I don't see why that should be a difficulty unless she has a disability and even then I see no cause to regard the child as baggage. Becky was certainly a joy to be around in high school... even if she did occasionally behave like a miniature Sue Sylvester. That was very disconcerting."
"No, no... Brooklyn is very healthy and perfect, but she is my world and I don't need anyone else fucking things up. She doesn't need to deal with women coming in and out of her life."
"Women... Oh so you are gay!" Rachel smiled as if she'd just made a miraculous discovery. "I was beginning to become disconcerted with the idea that your self-discovery in high school had become null and void following the birth of your child. And may I just say that Brooklyn is an amazing name. Not quite as amazing as Barbra of course, but how could I possibly dislike the idea of a child named after part of this amazing city? Of course you wouldn't want anything to disrupt her life. I understand entirely."
"Brooklyn is her name because of where I went into labor." Santana chuckled sadly. "Walking home from work on the bridge... in the rain." Santana closed her take out box that was more than half full. "Hence her name is Brooklyn Rain Lopez... I'm not very creative."
"I still like it." Rachel shrugged. "It's an evocative name. Perhaps the circumstances were less than ideal, but you have your child and assuming you can tolerate me, you have a job. A job where if something comes up with Brooklyn, you have standing leave to go. No questions asked. A parent's first job is their child." She nodded firmly. "Just please leave a note if you can't find me to let me know. I would be very disconcerted to be abandoned again and might believe that you have surrendered the position."
"Not a problem," she said, pushing her hair behind her ears. "She won't interfere with work, I promise." Santana smiled. "Enough about her, what about this position I should know?" she asked, uncomfortable with sharing too much about her daughter with anyone.
"Simply enough, you're my assistant. What that entails is fairly straightforward. You arrange my calendar, ensure I am not late to events, accompany me when there is no alternative, and run errands for me. Fairly simple, don't you think?"
"Yep, a monkey could do it." Santana said, not enthusiastic about being Rachel's lackey. "It will be fine."
"Santana, kindly name me another position in this city that will pay you - what... fifty or sixty thousand? - to simply run errands, keep a calendar and occasionally attend a club event in the company of your employer and will likely send you home by three or four when I start preparing for my first matinee show?" She cocked a brow at Santana, leaning back against the bench. "I don't know of any off hand, but perhaps you do."
"Nope," she sighed, struggling to suck up her pride. "That's why I took it when offered, why I didn't bail when I found out... when I saw Quinn... I told you already, I need the job and am grateful for it."
"Good. And besides, it's not like I'm going to send you for coffee all the time - I usually get my own when I head into work at seven - or make you clean disgusting things - that's what janitors are for. You're basically just going to be yourself and help me out. If you want to take care of your own errands while accomplishing mine, I don't mind. If it helps, you're more Quinn's eyes and ears in my life than my lackey. She's made it eminently clear you work for her and I only am allowed your services at her tolerance."
"That really just sounds like I'm your whore," Santana said as she put the container neatly back in her plastic bag and knotted the top. "But that's cool. I might take you up on the errand thing sometime, Brooke likes to go with me but sometimes it's easier without her tagging along."
"Um, wow. Crude much?" Rachel shook her head, "That's not a service I'll ever expect from you, Santana. But if you need time off to take Brooklyn to the doctor or shopping, that's fine. Just let me know. Oh, speaking of shopping, I occasionally need to attend what I like to call schmooze galas to talk up investors and make connections. Would you be interested in assisting in the selection of an appropriate gown when these events come up? Normally I don't trust the assistants Quinn's sent me, but I like to think I have a bit better idea as to your sense of style and trust it a bit more than theirs."
"Yeah." Santana smiled, "I would loves to get you glammed up in something that was not a oddly puffy pink dress like your prom one or that ugly as fuck wedding dress you wore for five minutes..." She joked, "But, I do like this new style of yours."
"Hey, I didn't exactly have the most fashion forward selection to pick through," Rachel defended. "Both of those dresses came from Goodwill. I didn't have the money for anything better." She shrugged, looking down at her slim jeans and belted button up shirt, "This you can blame on Quinn though. She informed me in no uncertain terms that she wouldn't be living with the amount of argyle and animal sweaters I owned when we first found out we'd be living together. I currently only own argyle socks and three animals sweaters which I was only allowed to keep from sentimental value. They were gifts from my departed grandparents."
Santana just shook her head and chuckled, "I'll give you that." She smiled, "But my four year old dresses better than you did in high school and we shop at Goodwill too." She raised her eyebrow, "But hey, whatever."
"Well, I get a clothing allowance to look amazing for those silly things, so if you can pull it off without spending it all, consider the rest a bonus." Rachel finished up her pita, tossing the wrapper in a nearby can. "I don't really know the details of your pay or anything, Quinn handles that, but the rest of today is mine, so if you want, you can go off and do your thing now. Oh! Wait. Do you have a cellphone? If I can get the number, I'll give you a call if I need any help later today or if I need to let you know about something going on tomorrow."
"Sure." Santana scribbled down her number. "I go to bed late and am up early if you ever need me. And I have Internet."
"That is wonderful," she murmured, accepting the piece of napkin with Santana's number and stowing it in her purse. "Well, then. I'll see you tomorrow? Does nine sound like a good start?"
"Sure. At the theatre? Do you want me to get you breakfast or anything?" She asked, grabbing her notebook and looking at the other girl.
"Yes, at the theatre and I eat at home around six thirty, so don't worry about getting me breakfast." Rachel paused, then smiled hesitantly. "It's good seeing you again, Santana. I'm actually glad you're okay. At least half of us thought you'd died when you disappeared."
Santana shrugged, "Better than the truth." She mumbled before getting up and brushing off her pants. "If you don't need me anymore I'm gonna go surprise my kid by picking her up early."
"Being alive is always better than being dead, Santana," Rachel remarked mildly. "But, no, I shouldn't need you for the rest of the day, so feel free. Give Quinn a call when you get home and I'm sure she'll have figured out the pertinent details such as when you get paid and how you'll pay for my errands because that certainly shouldn't come out of your pocket. It'll be good working with you again. Thanks for accepting the job."
Santana shrugged and pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. "See you tomorrow, Berry." She said before grabbed her left overs and started to walk away.