Hey! So... new fic. :P
Just to give a hands up, I don't follow the series all the way. It's not AU, but I do take some liberty to rethink some characters, hahaha Nothing drastic, though. I like the way they are. And I hope you enjoy this.
Please, let me know what you think. :)
Give me a second
Santana watched as the music gone out and the lights went on, turning the dance floor into an empty dirty space. With a nod to the cleaning crew, she walked to the private area, stopping midway to take off the high heels, sighing in relief. She heard footsteps behind her, but didn't turn to see who was coming.
"Hey, San. Look at what I've saved for us." The bar manager, Justin, was waving a small plastic pack filled with coke.
"I don't think so, Justin."
"Oh, come on. Don't be a buzz killer. I can't shoot it all up myself."
Santana rolled her eyes, but followed him to a VIP room, falling onto a black sofa. Justin emptied the plastic on the table in front of them and took a plastic card out of his pocket – it was a black, rectangular card, with a shining red asterisk in the middle. The access-card to the private area of the club Santana managed, The Asterisk.
"Where's your first lady, anyway, Miss Delicious?"
"Shh. Shut up. Don't summon the devil."
"I'm surprised to see you alone at all. She must be hunting you down."
"Then just hurry up!"
But before he could split the coke into rails, the door was opened and a black girl in high heels, wearing really heavy makeup, entered.
"There is my Miss Delicious!" She cried out, all too excitedly. "I've looked for you everywhere!"
Santana pretended not to notice the amused smile on Justin's lips.
"I'm here."
"You know I don't like it when you leave me alone."
"I was tired. And you were talking to your friends."
"Anyway! What if someone had hit on me? What if I'd liked it?"
I wouldn't be so lucky, Santana thought.
"We're just finishing up here and I'm going to bed." She said as Justin snorted the coke trough a ten dollar bill.
"Sounds like a plan to me." Wanessa smiled as Santana inhaled the second rail and passed the bill to her to do the third and last one.
"No, no. I'm sleeping alone tonight."
"But why! I'm right here to keep you company."
Santana felt the tiredness of the day give place to an agitation, and her skin began to tingle.
"Look, Wan, I'm having lunch with Rachel in six hours. I need some sleep. You'll be more comfortable at your place."
"No, I can't believe you're ditching me for that dwarf."
"Don't call her that."
"You call her that."
"I can, you can't." Santana must have sounded as mad as she felt, because Wanessa's mouth turned into a perfect upside-down-u.
"I'm taking off." Justin announced, probably predicting the storm. "See you tomorrow, boss."
Santana waved him goodbye.
"You should go too, Wanessa. I need to get some rest."
"Don't be like this," She chimed. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"I know..."
"I just wanna be with you." She sat on Santana's lap, uninvited.
"I know, but-"
"I'm so into you, God..." Wanessa's lips were on Santana's neck. "You know what you do to me?"
"Wanessa..."
"I feel your scent and I'm already wet. You can't send me home like this, it's not fair..."
Santana sighed, feeling the touch in her breasts, the nipples reacting despite her will.
"Let's get upstairs so I can take you off of that dress..."
"Alright," She finally agreed. "Alright."
Kurt was trying to keep his eyes off the man, but it was hard. First, they were sitting in front of each other on the subway. Then Kurt was just behind him in the stairs, and now they were walking down the same path for two blocks.
And it wasn't just about him being gorgeous – which he was, with that golden locks mass of hair and green eyes –, but also the tie that matched the suit so poorly, and the way he seemed to be lost, checking his phone all the time. And it was, Kurt had to admit it, the southern accent he had heard on the subway.
When the guy entered the building where Kurt so happened to work, he started to wonder. The man stopped at the reception, while Kurt simply waved good morning at the security there and went towards the elevators.
When the door finally opened, the blonde man was walking on his direction.
"Hold, please!"
Oh, well.
"Thank you." He smiled at Kurt as if he meant it. As if he was really grateful.
"No problem." Kurt pressed the eleventh floor button. "You?"
"Eleventh also. Do you work here?"
"Yes. Are you going to the May Editorial?"
"I am. I'm a little late, actually. I just... I got lost at the subway." He admitted with a tight cute smile.
"First time here?"
"First time in New York."
"Oh. Job interview?"
"Yes. Green Leaf."
"The econ magazine."
"Yes, that's right. Do you work there, by any chance?"
"Oh, no. I'm at Spark. The fashion magazine."
"Right. Spark. I should have guessed." He smiled. And before Kurt could get his just-because-I-am-gay-it-does-not-mean speech ready, he added: "I mean, I'm so underdressed compared to you that I'm this close to go back to the hotel and rethink my tie choice."
Kurt couldn't help but smile.
"I'm pretty sure your tie choice is not a prerequisite in Green Leaf."
"I hope you are right. I'm Edward, by the way. Edward Cuddy."
"Oh my God, for a moment I thought you'd say-"
"Edward Cullen. I know. I get that a lot." He sighed and Kurt chuckled.
"I'm Kurt Hummel. Nice to meet you."
They were shaking hands when the door opened at the eleventh floor.
"Do you want me to lead you to the Green Leaf editorial?"
"I don't wanna trouble you."
"That's no trouble. Come on. The hallways here can be a little tricky in the beginning and we don't want you to get more late."
"Thank you, then. Thank you."
"This way." He said and they walked down the floor together.
"Ok, people. Good job." The director said when the music in the background died. "Rachel, nice last note."
"Thank you, Victor." She said, panting slightly.
"Let's take a break for lunch. And God protect you from my wrath if any of you have something heavier than a turkey sandwich and get back here fat and sleepy. I'll see you all at three and we'll take from scene four again."
"Damn scene four." Sebastian complained next to her. "I have nightmares about it already."
"You'll get all the footsteps in time, Sebastian. Don't be too worried about it. We still have two months to go."
But of course Rachel had all the choreography figured out by the first rehearsal week.
"Thanks, Rach. Look, where are you going for lunch? I found this amazing vegan place three blocks away, you'll love it."
"Actually, I meeting a friend for lunch."
"Oh, ok."
"Let me just check where she is, and maybe the three of us could try this new place together?"
"Sounds good to me." Sebastian smiled as they went backstage.
Rachel rummaged through her purse for her cellphone and texted Santana via Whatsapp.
Hey, I'm on my break. Are you around already?
A few seconds later, she received a reply. It was a selfie of Santana still in bed, her make up messed up around her swelled eyes and a sleepy smile on her lips. Rachel sighed.
"Seems like it'll be just us today, Seb."
"What about your friend?"
Rachel sighed again.
"She can't be trusted."
The cell biped.
Asterisk tonight? - Santana was asking.
I don't think so. Guess I'll follow your lead and use our scheduled time together to sleep.
Don't be a bitch.
Can't. Lived with you too long.
Another selfie. This time the smile was full, but a middle finger was in the way.
"Quinn!" Sam yelled her, making the blonde jump a little.
"What! Are you trying to kill me?"
"We're out of wine." He said, wiping his forehead with his hand. It was hot in there, despite the cold outside. Hot and sweaty, and not in a good way.
"Out of what?"
"Wine. We just served the last bottle and I can't seem to find someplace opened at this time. Not nearby, anyway. Soon people will start to sober up."
And of course, they couldn't have that. Nobody ever thought about a great sober party. Deals didn't get made if people were sober. People didn't fuck who they shouldn't. No good story ever started with "I was sober when…".
"No, that's not happening under my watch."
"So what do we do?" His lower plump lip seemed to tremble just a little. It was an important party. The only big one they've had in a while. Things got to be perfect if they wanted to keep their jobs.
"Ok, I got an idea. You go fill up two buckets of water and bring them back here. I'll start praying."
"Wh...?" Sam seemed confused for a moment, then nodded. "Ok!"
"Sam!" Quinn held his arm when he turned to leave. "I'm kidding! Are you drunk?"
"Well, I'm a man of faith. I've seen you working miracles before."
Quinn smiled and handed him the keys to the company's minivan.
"I have a few more boxes in the van outside."
The relief was so clear in Sam's face that made Quinn laugh.
"You bought extra."
"I bought extra." She confirmed. "Go now. I'll check the buffet."
Quinn entered the saloon, scanning it around for trouble. But the music was right, the waiters were fine, the people was chatting and laughing, everybody was drinking. And her boss, at one side, seemed to be already drunk. Great. He was never as good at organizing parties as at partying.
"Quinn Fabray?"
"Yes?" She looked up to face a tall man wearing a black fitted suit. She didn't mind to ask how he knew her name, since her boss made everyone in the team wear a ridiculous tag around the collar. Like an owner would leash his puppies.
"Nice party."
"Oh, thank you. We are pleased to know you're having a nice time."
"We?"
"I mean the Nightway Company." She smiled politely.
"Again… We?" He smiled back at her. "The way I've seen you walking around this night, I could swear you're the only one in charge."
Dammit, he'd seen her all night? She was supposed to be invisible for the guests.
"Don't worry, you were very subtle. I've only seen you because that is the very reason I came here for."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not a stalker." He hurried to say, chuckling. "Ok, perhaps just a little. My name is Reuben Whalling."
"Whalling? As in Whalling Cultural Productions?" Quinn swallowed hard.
"Exactly." He produced a business card from his pocket and handed it to Quinn. "I heard your name around. And I happen to have an open spot on my company right now. So, if you're interested, why don't you give me a call this week and come visit us downtown?"
"I will," Quinn nodded firmly. "Thank you, sir."
"I'll be waiting."
And he walked away. Quinn could swear the card would burn in her hot hands, so she stuffed it in her pocket. Then she wandered through the saloon, taking off that damn tag, head spinning, until she found herself out of the ball area and into the hotel bar.
"Can I help you, miss?" The barman asked when she dropped herself into a stool.
"Give me something strong."
"Tough night?" The woman beside her asked. Quinn turned her head and looked at a beautiful redhead in a red dress, smiling with red lips, holding a tall glass with red nails.
"Yes. Tough job. So hard, all night long." She sighed, then blushed when realized what she had said.
The woman laughed.
"Aren't those the worst?"
Quinn smiled back at her.
"But it's having a terrific ending."
"It's far from ending, though. It's only one in the morning." The redhead gave her a crooked smile and Quinn wondered if things could get any better.
"You are right. I can still change this to a tender delightful night."
"I'll drink to that." The woman raised her glass when the barman got Quinn a dose of whisky.
They toasted and Quinn even liked the burning liquid going down her throat. It was as hot as the redhead's stare.
"I'm Patricia."
"I'm happy." Quinn said back like a fool, but Patricia laughed.
"I can see that." She bit her lip. "Your smile is absolutely delicious to see."
God, she is hitting on me. This night is the best night.
"Probably even more delicious to taste." The redhead went on and Quinn felt her face burning.
It's the whisky, she thought. She didn't get this excited about people hitting on her. Right?
Patricia looked over her shoulder for a moment, and then sighed.
"Sadly, I have to go."
"Really? We didn't even finish out drinks."
At that, Patricia threw back the rest of her wine, then Quinn's whisky, making the blonde giggle. Then she leaned forward, furtively, and placed a quick and wet kiss on Quinn's lips.
The blonde blinked at her. What the fuck? That was just too sudden, and inappropriate and goddamn hot.
"It is delicious to taste, your smile. I wonder what else will taste this good. Call me." She placed a card on the balcony, got up and vanished, leaving Quinn even more lightheaded.
Then she looked at the card and her stomach lurched. It read Patricia Whalling – Whalling Cultural Productions Ltd – Marketing & Publicity Department Chief.
"Maybe they are brother and sister?" Kurt suggested, eyes jumping from one card to another.
"I googled them. They are husband and wife." Quinn smacked her head against the table while Santana bursted into laugh.
"That is the best story I've heard since Rachel dated a male hooker." Santana said, sucking at her drink through the straw.
"Shut up, San! That's not funny! I'm so fucked!"
"Quinn, breathe." Rachel placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "You didn't do anything wrong, ok? You didn't know."
"Like that will make any difference to them. I can't believe I've ruined a job offer even before the interview."
"You didn't ruin anything." Rachel replied.
"She's right, Quinn," Kurt nodded. "This woman kissed you. And she had probably to be drunk to do it."
"Wow, thanks for that, Kurt." Quinn grimaced and Santana laughed even harder.
"I mean," He said, sending a warning look to Santana. "To do it that way. With her husband right there."
"Oh my God! If he saw it, I'm done for life. I better start finding another area to work at."
"Quinn, shut up. Stop whining." Santana clapped her hands in front of her friend. "He didn't see shit. You'll take those cards, you'll call this guy to set up a meeting. Best case scenario, this Patricia was drunk and won't remember you. Everything will be just fine. Worst case scenario, she does remember you, she gets embarrassed and makes up an excuse and her husband won't hire you. Then you'll have to stay in your crappy job. But first you fucking try!"
"I've never thought I'd say this, but Santana is right," Rachel rolled her eyes as the Latina scoffed at her. "You know your current job is way below your education level, anyway. You deserve this chance."
"I do, right?"
"You totally do, dear." Kurt reassured her with a nod.
"I do. Right. You're right. I'll call. I'll pretend nothing has ever happened."
"You go, girl."
"Thank you, guys."
Rachel and Kurt smiled and Santana winked.
"Can we talk about me now?" The Latina asked.
"I'd rather talk about Taylor Swift's new kitty." Rachel said.
"Does she have a new kitty?" Kurt asked.
"What happened to Meredith?" Quinn arched an eyebrow.
"Ha-ha. Very funny," Santana interrupted them. "But I have to kill someone, so could you guys pay attention for a moment?"
"Only if it's Wanessa."
"For the matter of fact, Rachel, it is Wanessa."
"Then we most certainly will help you." Kurt guaranteed.
"That girl… is crazy." Santana blurted, to nobody's surprise. "She has no appreciation for other people's feelings, she is needy and disrespectful. And, most of all, she won't leave me alone!"
"Maybe you should talk to her?" Rachel said, unamused.
"I've tried that. But she won't listen to anyone whose name is not Wanessa."
"You know," Quinn started. "Following your train of thought, all you have to do is to ask another Wanessa to tell your Wanessa to leave you alone. I know a few Wanessas."
Santana scowled at her.
"You know what I meant," She sounded moody. "I'm serious. I've tried everything, from 'we don't match' to 'you suffocate me'. I don't know what else to do!"
"What about keeping your door closed?" Rachel asked.
"And your legs, for that matter." Kurt added.
"She has the key."
"To your house or to your pussy?" Quinn deadpanned and Rachel and Kurt laughed.
"To my house." As the other three stared at her in disbelief, Santana added. "I didn't give it to her! She just showed up with a copy!"
"That's scary." Rachel murmured to her drink.
"That's what you get by fucking first, asking second."
"Oh, you're one to talk, Fabray."
"I didn't fuck any-"
"Find another girl." Kurt interrupted, shutting them up. "Both of you. We're in a club, for God's sake. Just go hunting. Quinn, find someone single. Santana, find an even meaner bitch to scary this one."
"Kurt, this is the worst advice you have ever given." Rachel reprimanded him. "To Santana, I mean. You're right about Quinn."
"You guys think so?"
"Yeah!"
"And why can't I find another girl?" Santana complained. "It seems like a legit idea."
"You have to talk to your sociopath girlfriend first!" Rachel yelled.
"She is not my girlfriend!"
"Then tell her that!"
Quinn grabbed them both by the arms.
"You can continue this on the dance floor, while I… hunt."
"Make it 'we'." Kurt said, getting up too.
"You guys don't do anything I wouldn't!" Santana shouted at them as Quinn and Kurt moved on to the first lesbian-and-queer couple they eyed.
"That's worthless advice." Rachel giggled as Santana rolled her eyes.
"Look, I'm sorry for earlier today. I really meant to go."
"Forget about it. I'm used to it by now."
"Don't make a scene, Rachel. I'm saying I'm sorry."
"And I'm saying that's ok."
"Shit."
"No, really-"
"Shit, shit! Wanessa's here."
"Not news." Rachel crossed her arms across her chest. "She's always here."
"She said she wouldn't come tonight."
"Then she's trying to surprise you."
"Well, not if I surprise her first." Santana turned to Rachel with madness shining in her eyes. I little more than usual, that is. "Kiss me."
"What?"
"Kiss me, Rachel! She'll see, she'll be mad, she'll leave me alone."
"You're insane."
"I mean it! It's just one kiss! It won't kill you!"
"I'm so not kissing you."
"Please! She has always been jealous of you, anyway."
"Really? Of me? Why?"
Santana smiled because all Rachel sounded was flattered.
"Because she thinks you're gorgeous and talented and of course I should be into you."
"Me? Not Quinn?"
"You. So. Kiss the fuck out of me now, please."
"No." Rachel shook her head. "That's wrong. Just talk to her."
"I'm done talking." Santana took a step forward. "To both of you." Then she held Rachel by the waist, dragged her closer and pressed their lips together.
A few steps away, Quinn and Kurt approached their target.
"Hey, guys. What's up?" Quinn smiled at them.
The girl was beautiful, all brown hair and blue eyes, and the sweetest smile Quinn had seen in a really long time. The guy was tall, broad shoulders, big hands, and yet so feminine he could put Kurt to shame.
"I'm Kurt." He said, eyeing the guy, who eyed him back. "This is my friend, Quinn."
"Nice to meet you," Said the brunette, lowly. "I'm Marley."
"Ryder." The guy completed.
"Ryder," Kurt repeated. "Strong name." The guy smiled. "Should we get a strong drink to go along with it?"
Ryder glanced at his friend who gave a small smile in consent, and then he and Kurt took off.
"That was quick." Quinn said, giggling as they watched the guys walk away.
"Guys, right?"
"Yeah…" The blonde looked at Marley, paying more attention. She wore nude lip gloss perfectly applied, which usually meant 'unaccompanied'. Good. "I see your cup is almost empty as well. Let's get you a refill…"
"Oh, thank you, but I actually think I've already drank too much."
"Oh, why? Do you work tomorrow?"
"No, but…"
"But?" Quinn smiled invitingly. Marley's eyes focused in her mouth, then eyes, then mouth again. Quinn's smile got bigger.
"I think I should probably go… find my other… friends… I'm sorry."
"Don't be. That's ok."
"I… Good night, Quinn."
She walked away and Quinn sighed, wondering if she had bumped into a straight-curious who'd lost her nerve in the last moment. But just then Marley looked back over her shoulder, flipping her hair and smiling like women do when they want other people to follow the crumbs to the candy house.
"Straight my ass." Quinn mumbled to herself, smiling back.
In the bar area, Kurt handed Ryder a drink that was only strong in Vitamin C, since it had much strawberry and orange, and no alcohol.
"So, Ryder, do you like to dance?"
Ryder gave him a full-size smile.
"I like it so much that when I do it next to people, I usually injure them."
Kurt laughed.
"What if I promised to protect the peasants? Would you dance with me?" Ryder nodded, chuckling. "Only beware." Kurt advised him. "When I dance, I usually blind people with my glamour."
The chuckle became a laugh.
"We'll burn this house down." Ryder said, grabbing Kurt's hand and leading him to the dance floor.
Pressed against Santana's body, Rachel felt her heart thump, like it was scared. Of course she knew Santana and Santana's body, and Santana's hands, and Santana's mouth… but not like that. Not like that at all.
She gestured to back away, but Santana held her in place. Rachel knew it wasn't right to kiss her in front of Wanessa. But she also knew Santana would be very pissed off to be rejected in front of Wanessa. So she opened her mouth and accepted the kiss.
Santana tasted like vodka, strawberry, ice and woman. And this last taste was the most unexplainable, but also the dominant. It was nice, actually. And it became even nicer when Santana raised a hand to her neck, pulling her closer. Although Rachel couldn't quite figure out why the way Santana's hands moved had anything to do with that womanly taste in her mouth.
Maybe it was because both hands and mouth knew so well what to do, where to fit, how to go deeper. If someone was to ask, Rachel wouldn't be able to tell at what moment she decided it was a good idea to wrap Santana's neck with her arms, or to touch her thick hair until she found the warm nape underneath it.
And then it didn't matter anymore, because Santana's mouth had changed its temperature, its pace, its intent. Now she was asking to be kissed as much as she was kissing, seducing Rachel's teeth to those tasty lips.
Rachel was clumsily pushed backwards until a wall propped them – but it didn't stop them. And, somehow, Santana's full body was in that kiss, and pressed against Rachel's, and in her tongue, and in her head, spinning, hot, drowning her throat with the most sexy and womanly taste she had ever had before.
Yes, it was a kiss, just a kiss, but it was also something else. Something like a wave going backwards; instead of crushing into the sand, it would merge into the ocean again.
It was just a kiss, but so good that…
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
Santana barely felt the hand in her arm that pulled her briskly from Rachel, making her stumble almost two feet away. But her senses sharpened all at once when she saw Wanessa marching towards Berry, still against the wall. In a quick motion, Santana stepped forward, pushed Wanessa out of Rachel's way, and prompted herself between the two of them.
"YOU FUCKING WHORE! I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU AND THAT LITTLE DWARF BITCH…!
Santana grabbed Wanessa's arm firmly.
"Stop it! Shut up or I'll shut you!"
"HOW COULD YOU, YOUR MOTHER FUCK-"
"WANESSA!" Santana shook her hard, but that only fed the girl's anger. She attacked Santana, clawing her with long savage nails. It took a moment or two for the Latina to have her hands under control. "Let's take this conversation upstairs."
"San," Rachel stepped beside her. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Can't have it here." Santana said, as she started to drag a screaming Wanessa to the private elevator. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She yelled midway, and Wanessa eased the scandal.
Rachel stood there, heart thumping, dizzy.
"Are you alright?" Quinn asked, showing up by her side.
"Yeah, I'm ok." She said, eyes glued to where Santana had just vanished with her sociopath not-girlfriend.
"You were right," Kurt said, emerging near them with a tall guy by his side. "It was a bad advice."