N/A: I don't own either Glee or the song. Fox and Kenny Chesney do. Rated the way it is because of the few "bad" words that everyone uses at some point in time.
Santana lay on the break room couch sleeping soundly, dreaming, unaware of anything being wrong. She had just come off the an 18 hour shift and was so exhausted she passed out on the nearest elongated surface. She was off duty but was too tired to drive anywhere and she didn't want to fall asleep in the back of some cabbies car. She lied to herself trying to insist she'd be up in an hour or two and then with herself rested she'd get herself home to greet her girlfriend who was at an afternoon rehearsal. She's promised to be there when Rachel got home and she didn't want to let her girl down.
Rachel trudged up stairs, tired but hopeful. Santana would be there to make her horrible day better. At rehearsals the directer had yelled and argued with her over her portrayal of his character. 'No! No! No! You're doing it wrong!' he scolded her. He would show her the "correct" way to do it. Then she would sigh and try again only to be yelled at. Then one of the new wardrobe lackeys bumped into her and split his coffee and his bosses scolding tea all over her. She had to go home in borrowed set sweats from rehearsal. Her confidence had taken a hard hit today dealing with that man for the last 8 hours and her usual cheeriness was almost nonexistent. All she wanted now was to be with her girlfriend. She walked into the apartment and expected Santana to rush to greet her, or for dinner to be ready or something. Instead the apartment was quiet. Her hopes fell to the floor. Had Santana taken another shift at work? Maybe she just went to the store to get a few things, Rachel thought hoping the love of her life hadn't forgotten about her. Her hopes rose again as she made her way to their shared room. Maybe her girlfriend had other things in mind for tonight's activities. She was tired but never tired enough to say no to the Latina. As she peaked into the room her heart fell even further then before. The bed was just as she had left it 9 hours earlier, sloppy, unmade, and slept in. Rachel wanted to cry. On top of her awful day and horrible boss, her girlfriend had forgotten her. She held herself together long enough to strip off her loaned clothes and get in the shower. She got out physically refreshed and changed into her pj's. She collapsed onto their bed wondering where her girlfriends could be.
Santana was slowly pulled from her dreaming state by a co-worker. 'Just five more minutes Rae.' she mumbled thinking the man was her girlfriend. 'Santana. Wake up. It's 9:50. You got off 3 hours ago. We're about to close go home.' he said chuckling to himself. She's no so bad when she's half asleep and not yelling he thought. That statement got her attention. 'Wait what! It's 9:50! Oh shit!' she yelped. She sprang from the work couch and rushed out side. It was a cold December night in New York City as Santana hailed a cab. She gave him the address and was home in ten minutes. She took the stairs two at a time and each time her foot hit the step she let out a silent curse at herself for being late. She reached the door and opened it slowly and looked him. Rachel wasn't in the main living area. She relaxed some and walked in. She looked in the bathroom and the kitchen but found neither had changed much since the last time she'd seen them. That left one more room to softly pushed open the door to their shared room her heart beating loudly in her chest. The smaller woman sat up in bed with her table lamp lighting up the room and her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes didn't look up as Santana walked into the room.
Rachel after tossing and turning for an hour or so decided that she'd stay awake to confront her girlfriend when she arrived home. She read while she waited and when she heard the soft foot falls on the old wooden floors she knew Santana was home. She was flooded with relief that was she was okay and happiness that always came with the thought of her Latina. But these emotions were overwhelmed with anger at the woman who was supposed to have been home almost four hours ago. Rachel forced herself to look at the book as Santana slowly walked in.
After a minute of uncomfortable silence, Santana spoke. 'Hey.'
Rachel shot her a glare so powerful Santana couldn't meet her gaze. 'Where have you been?' Rachel demanded trying to keep the anger and hurt from her voice.
Santana heard the underlining emotion in her girlfriend's voice and her heart broke. 'I was at work.'
'You got off at 6 Santana. That was 4 hours ago.' Rachel replied flatly.
Santana shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 'I might have fallen asleep after I got off.' she said guiltily.
'You fell asleep?' Rachel asked doubtful and suspicious. If she'd just fallen asleep why'd she seem so nervous?
'Well it's kinda hard to stay awake after an 18 hour shift.' Santana replied defensively and a little angry that her girl friend didn't seem to believe her.
Rachel scoffed. 'I bet. Anything else tire you out?' She asked looking Santana straight in the eyes.
Santana's face formed a hurt and angry frown. 'What's that supposed to mean?' she snapped.
'I don't know. You tell me.' Rachel retorted.
Santana scowled and rolled her eyes. She felt her temper rising, fast. If she didn't get out of there they'd both say somethings they wouldn't mean. 'I'm going out.' Santana said turning to leave.
'Fine. Go.' was Rachel's reply as she looked back at her book hiding the tears that threatened to spill. She wasn't sure who she was more upset with Santana or herself.
Santana walked out into the cols and started walking. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own carrying her where they may. Her mind replayed their conversation. That had been their first big fight. And though the volume of voices was never raised it spoke volumes. She sighed to herself as she entered a vacant bar. No one but the bar keep was there. He looked half asleep at the other end of the bar. She sat on one of the stools as the bar keeper walked over.
'What'll it be?' he asked. He was an older man with greying hair and a beard to match. His eyes were soft and kind.
'The good stuff.' Santana replied.
He didn't reach around for the whiskey. He didn't pour her a beer. His blue eyes went misty as he replied. 'You can't find that here.' he said. 'Because it's the first long kiss on a second date. Mom's all worried when you get home late. And dropping the ring in the spaghetti plate, because your hands are shaking so much. It's the way that she looks with the rice in her hair and eating burnt suppers the whole first year and asking for seconds to keep her from tearing up. Yeah, that's the good stuff.'
The bar tender pulled out a glass and a gallon of milk. Santana gave a small smile. 'I'll have some of that.' she said softly. He pulled out another glass. They talked for an hour or more. She explained her and Rachel's argument to him as he wiped down the bar.
'I spent 5 years at the bar before my wife was taken from me.' he said pointing to a black and white picture behind the bar. 'I've been sober 3 years now. Because the only thing stronger then the whiskey was the sight of her holding my baby girl, and the way she adored that string of pearls, I gave her the day that our youngest boy, Earl, married his high-school sweetheart. It's a new tee-shirt saying: 'I'm a Grandpa', being right there as our time got small, and holding her hand, when the Good Lord called her up. Yeah, that's the good stuff.'
Santana smiled sadly as she listened to the old bar keep.
'When you get home, she'll start to cry. When she says: 'I'm sorry,' say: 'So am I.' Then look into those eyes, so deep in love, drink it up. Because that, that's the good stuff.' he said. He wiped his eyes quickly and sniffed.
Santana smiled. 'Thanks' she said standing.
He smiled back. 'Anytime.'
She went to pay but he waved it away. 'I don't charge for a glass of good advice.' he said.
She smiled again and nodded her good bye and respect towards the old man. The walk home seemed to be shorter then when she first left. She walked up the stairs for the second time that night. She opened the door and hung her coat up. She found Rachel softly sniffling to herself in bed. Santana laid next to her and pulled her into her lap.
Rachel sniffed. 'I'm sorry.' she said meekly. After Santana left she realized what she had implied. The thought made her want to throw up. How could she have said that? She'd been so angry and hurt and tired. There had been bad judgement on both parties.
'So am I.' Santana said softly planting a lite kiss on her girl friend's forehead. Rachel turned her big brown teary eyes on Santana. It broke Santana's heart to see Rachel anything but happy. It hurt her even more when she realized she was the only who did it. But sadness seemed to be fading and was replaced with a deep love. Santana smiled down at her loving girl friend and captured her lips in a deep kiss.
This really is the good stuff, she thought.