Watching her daughter skip in front of her, Santana takes a calming breath before calling out, "Maya Jade, I said no running."
"M'not running! I'm skipping!" Maya announces as she propels herself even further ahead of her mother. She stops at the doors to the auditorium and, once Santana catches up, the girl smiles brightly. "I win!"
Santana gives her daughter an unimpressed glance before holding open the door that leads to the theatre.
From her spot in the wings, Rachel doesn't hear the doors opening or notice that she's not alone in the theatre anymore. With a take-out coffee cup in one hand and her other stretched out to brush against the velvet curtain as she passes it, she walks onto the stage.
As usual, she's the first there. Her director is nearly always late and, even though the man only lives a few blocks away, she knows he'll blame traffic for his tardiness. Her co-star – the one who isn't about to begin maternity leave – likes to make an entrance and that can't happen if no one else is there. The stage manager, she knows, is in the office having already set up everything they need for their rehearsal-slash-meeting.
The clicking of heels on wood stops Santana mid-step. She takes her eyes off of her daughter, the little girl descending the steps a little more quickly than she prefers, and looks up at the stage.
She's not sure who she expects to see. The stage manager or director, perhaps? Maybe the costume designer or lighting director? She runs through a list of people who could be on the stage. Crew, cast ... a whole litany. Her eyes widen as she sees the one person she hadn't considered.
Rachel Berry.
A part of her thinks it isn't a coincidence and she wonders if maybe fate is working through some plan. A different part of her says, if that's what's happening, then fate has a weird sense of humour. This isn't at all what she had in mind when she told the other woman that she'd like to see her again.
The truth of the matter is that Rachel is part of a past she hasn't been able to shake completely. It's almost bittersweet. The woman standing in front of her is a reminder of things she thinks she'd rather forget – so many fears, lies, regrets – but at the same time there's something so welcoming about being in her presence again.
Her attention is pulled from the stage when Maya shouts, "Lookit, Mama!"
The little girl spins around and walks backward, taking exaggerated steps to make sure she doesn't fall over. She pushes her arms out for balance and, once she's sure she's stable, gives her mother a toothy grin. "I'm goin' backward!"
Rachel's attention is pulled toward the house when she hears the small, clear voice.
"Honey, you're going to fall. Turn around, okay?"
Rachel squints into the darkened house but she is only able to see faint outlines of figures. "Hello?"
Taking her eyes off of her daughter again, Santana glances up to the stage and says, "Hey. Hi, Rachel."
The woman on stage puts her hand up over her eyes to block the spotlights and tries to see into the house. "Santana?" she asks in confusion. "Is that you?"
"No, it's Mama," Maya corrects stubbornly as she finally turns to walk the right way.
"Yeah, it's me." Santana squeezes her daughter's shoulder. "Are you in the show?" She knows the answer but for some reason feels the need to hear it directly from the other woman.
"I am," Rachel answers. "Are you touring the theatre? Seeing the show tonight?" She tries not to sound hopeful, but she can't deny that a part of her kind of likes the idea of Santana stopping by to see her - of her coming to the show and seeing her perform, of seeing that she was successful in attaining at least part of the life she'd told Santana, all those years ago, she was going to have.
Santana furrows her brow. "You don't know?" When Rachel just continues to look at her expectantly, she hesitantly says, "I'm actually your new co-star."
"You - you're taking Lucy while Bridget's on leave?" Rachel's attempt to hide her surprise fails spectacularly.
Santana nods. "Yeah, I wasn't sure about taking the role, but someone I trust persuaded me into doing it." As she reaches the edge of the stage, she places her hands on it and looks up at Rachel.
"I didn't even know Broadway was on your list," the other woman says casually. A tiny smile grows as she says, "I'm glad it is, though. You'll love it. And Marley will be so excited to get to see you perform again. She ... ." She shakes her head as she trails off. After a little giggle, she says, "She's still talking about the fact that she met you."
Rachel rolls her eyes before clasping her hands over her chest, making her voice sound giddy and saying, "Can you believe I actually met the Santana Lopez? If I didn't have the picture, I would think it was a dream ..."
The other woman chuckles warmly. "She's sweet."
"Mama, I wanna go up there," Maya announces as she tugs on her mother's jacket with one hand and points to the stage with the other. "Can I?"
Glancing down at her daughter, she smiles. "Up on stage?" She raises her brow and her smile playfully grows. "C'mon, then." Santana takes Maya's hand and leads her to the steps at the side of the stage.
Instead of taking the stairs normally, Maya hops from step to step, pulling on Santana's hand every time she lands.
Santana watches her daughter jump and chuckles. "Just be careful, okay?"
"Hop, hop, hop" the girl chants as she bounces to from step to step.
Rachel pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches Santana interact with her daughter. So much time has passed and the woman in front of her is so different from the girl she knew. She can't put her finger on it, exactly; but, it's almost as if Santana figured out how to exist in her own skin. She's not that volatile teenager who was always on the verge of exploding.
It's almost as if she's settled into herself.
Once they get on stage, Santana leads Maya over to Rachel. She allows herself to make eye contact with the other woman and smiles softly, greeting her with a quiet, "Hey."
Rachel presses her lips into a teasing smile and raises her brows. "Hello to you," she says formally. Her attention shifts to the little girl at Santana's side. "And hello to you, too, Maya."
The little girl wrinkles her nose and steps behind her mother.
Santana turns her head to glance down at Maya. "Maya, baby. You're not shy."
"Yes, I am," Maya whispers, peeking out from behind Santana only to find that the woman isn't even looking at her. She's looking at her mother. "Can we go home now, Mama?" the little girl asks plainly.
A bad feeling settles in Santana's stomach. She just knows this isn't going to go well.
There's no doubt that Santana loves her child. There's nothing and there's no one in the world she loves more. But Maya has a stubborn streak that, more often than not, clouds her social judgment.
Maya has never liked meeting new people. Santana believes the little girl would be fine if her entire world consisted of Mama, Daddy, Aunt Holly and George – and an audience. The little girl loves performing and has never shown a fear of crowds; but, one-on-one situations tend to make the girl antsy and, on some occasions, she ventures out of adorably single-minded and into aggravatingly stubborn.
She doesn't blame her daughter. In fact, she knows that much of it is due to how she and Matt have tried to protect her. There are some really weird (and dangerous) people in the world and, being in the public eye, Santana's largest concern is keeping her daughter safe. She's working on helping Maya open up to new people without making the girl think that she should be open to all new people.
Santana looks into her daughter's eyes and says, "Maya, you've met Rachel before. Stop being silly and say hello."
The little girl clutches the back of her mother's jacket but doesn't offer up a greeting.
"It's okay," Rachel says to Santana, not wanting to put the girl on the spot. "She doesn't have to, San." Her eyes widen just a fraction and then she corrects herself, "Santana."
The other woman's breath catches in her throat. That's a nickname she hasn't heard in a long time – and an even longer time coming from Rachel. It takes her by surprise and she blinks owlishly a few times as she realizes that hearing it wasn't the horrible reminder she thought it would be. In fact, it's pleasantly nostalgic and Santana finds herself actually enjoying it.
Tilting her head, she gives Rachel a soft smile. "It's cool. Whichever you prefer is fine with me."
"No," a small voice argues. "Only Daddy and Auntie can call you that." Maya pokes her head out from behind Santana, looks up at Rachel and suggests, "You can say Mrs. Rutherford like George does."
Unsure of what to say, the other woman presses her lips together, her eyes darting to Santana's.
The other woman sighs. Not only has Matt not called her that in a long time, but she's actually not unhappy about it. And Holly has, for some reason, taken to calling her honey, sweetie, and sometimes even darling.
She turns fully to Maya and crouches down to look into her eyes. "Mija, don't be rude. Mama knows Rachel, okay? We're friends, so if I say she can call me that, then it's okay."
The little girl looks down at her shoes. "Okay, Mama ..."
"Santana," Rachel says softly, not wanting the little girl to get in trouble on her account. "It's fine - she doesn't know me, so ... It's fine, really. I get it."
Maya peeks up at the other woman and then goes back to looking at her feet.
Santana kisses her daughter's cheek before standing up and looking at Rachel, wordlessly indicating that she has her attention again.
"So ..." Rachel doesn't really know what to talk about suddenly, and maybe for the first time in her life, she feels uncomfortable on a stage.
There's the giant elephant in the room, but she's reluctant to bring it up. Any talk of what's going on with the media - and Santana's marriage - is bound to bring them to a discussion of things that, especially for new co-workers, are best left alone.
Santana chuckles nervously. "Since when have we ever been awkward with each other?"
"I'm sure if we go far enough back, we can come up with a few examples," Rachel teases, her eyes glinting under the lights. "Let's talk about now, though," she suggests. "I would have thought you'd be taking a break after your tour. Your show was so high energy and," she pauses to chuckle, "not at all like those small shows you used to do."
Rachel wrinkles her nose cutely and admits. "As much as I like the multitudes of dancers, I kind of miss the smaller venues."
Santana's eyes narrow and she tilts her head at the other woman's confession. Did Rachel just say she had been to her earlier shows? That she sat in a smoky bar or a crowded club – voluntarily – just to hear her perform?
"You saw my earlier shows?"
"Well," Rachel tucks her hair behind her ear. "Your tours always came through the city, so ... you know." She bites her lip nervously. "I may have seen a few."
Of course, she meant to say that she saw nearly every show. The only performance Rachel missed was early on when her understudy was out with the flu and she didn't have the option of taking the evening off.
Santana's mouth falls open slightly. "I can't believe you actually went to my shows." She smiles softly.
"Why not?" Rachel asks, laughing. "It's not like I woke up one day and hated your voice. I always loved listening to you sing, you know that."
Among the woman's favourite vocalists are Barbra Streisand, Celine Dion, Karen Carpenter and Santana Lopez – all talents she learned to appreciate at a young age.
Santana narrows her eyes again, her gaze catching Rachel's. "I loved listening to you sing, too."
"You better," the other woman jokes, her lips twisting into a grin. "You're stuck with me for the few months. And we have a duet."
"I read over it in the script and checked it out online," she says with a nod. "It's a pretty great song."
"I know a song," Maya pipes up.
Santana smiles warmly at her daughter. Leave it to music talk to bring the girl out of her shell. She thinks it might be a sign that Maya is warming up to their new (old) friend.
"Wanna hear it?" Before anyone can answer, she starts singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
Rachel can't help the smile as she hears the girl's voice ring out over the stage. She only barely keeps herself from giggling when the girl sings, "Up-a bup-a world so high ... "
After singing the same line a few times, Maya trails off. "And that's how my song ends," she says knowingly.
"That was very good," Rachel says, clapping her hands together lightly.
"It really was," she repeats look at Santana. "She might follow in your footsteps. You could probably even get her into a show. Someone's always looking for a kid to sing."
"Oh, uh." Santana closes her mouth and then opens it again, but stops herself from continuing. She doesn't want to get into this discussion at the moment - especially not in front of Maya.
There's no doubt that the little girl can sing. She has a clear voice and she knows how to push a lot of sound out of her small body. Her diction isn't perfect most of that has to do with the fact that she's four years old and she has the vocabulary of a four year old kid – or, according to Matt's mom, an almost four year old rapper. Santana blames Matt's team mates for that.
The little girl has made no secret of her desire to be on stage with her mother. It's a fight before every performance. Maya wants to sing. Santana wants her off stage – away from the cameras, away from the lights, and away from the crowds. If she's not at home, then Santana wants her backstage with her Auntie – safe and protected.
Maya has her whole life ahead of her and Santana decided a long time ago that her little girl will have a childhood.
She's seen first-hand how kids in the business fare when they try to blend in with normal kids. So, Maya will go to school and she will have friends. She will go to prom and tease her date about how scared he was when her mom opened the front door. And she will have the privacy she needs to make her mistakes and learn from them.
Santana has it all planned out. All she has to do is keep Maya out of the spotlight.
A simple shake of her head is all the reply she offers.
Rachel can't say that she understands why the other woman doesn't want to talk about it. Of course, how much can she expect to understand about a person who is more of a stranger than a friend? She decides to leave it alone.
"Mama, can we colour now?"
Santana shakes her head. "We didn't bring your colouring stuff, baby. We'll do some when we get home, okay?" She shifts her attention back to Rachel and asks, "So, is this Blaine any good?"
"He's really good, actually. Exceptional," she answers and tries not to be affected by Maya's pout. When the little girl's frown is too much for her to take she asks, "Do you want me to see if I can find paper and a pen for her?"
Santana nods her head, grateful for Rachel's suggestion. "Yeah, I'm sure she'd like that."
"Sound good?" Rachel asks Maya, offering her a gentle smile.
"No, thank you," the girl declines politely, if not a little formally.
"Okay," Rachel says haltingly. "Um," she frowns. She takes a sip of her coffee to try to hide confusion. She's usually pretty okay with kids. At least she's always thought she was. She focuses on Santana again and tries to get back to their conversation. "So, you were asking about Blaine ..."
The other woman frowns and lets out a small, frustrated breath. "Rach, can you give us a second?"
Without waiting for an answer, she offers the woman a quick smile and then sets her attention to Maya. Taking her hand, she leads the little girl across the stage and crouches down to look into her eyes. "Okay, what's going on, baby?"
The other woman turns away to give her friend – her new friend? Her new old friend? She's really not sure how to classify Santana, but she hopes they'll be friends. And Santana did tell her daughter that they were friends – her friend a chance to talk to her daughter without feeling watched.
"Nothing," Maya answers. Her mother simply raises her brows and the little girl pouts and revises her answer. "I dunno."
"Do you not like Rachel?"
The little girl remains silent.
"Maya, baby, you said you wanted to colour,' Santana reminds the girl. "Why don't you want Rachel to get you some paper if you want to colour?"
When her daughter shrugs in response, she says the girl's name in the way that mom's do – the way that warns their children that they are on thin ice.
"Am I in trouble?" Maya asks, her lips pulling down into a deep frown.
Santana sighs and shakes her head. "No, of course not, honey. But we're going to have to stay here for a while, so if you want to colour … "
"Just us?" Maya interrupts hopefully, her eyes lighting up.
Santana shakes her head, the look in Maya's eyes breaking her heart. She knows she could spend more time with her daughter. And it kind of makes her feel guilty about taking this job so soon after the tour.
"No, honey. Remember? Mama has to work." She cups the girl's cheek.
"But, Mama," Maya whines. Her little mouth falls back into a miserable pout. "It's not fair! It's my turn to sing with you."
"Tell you what," she offers with a tap to Maya's pout. "What about we have a Disney movie sing-a-long after we're done here, huh? You can choose which one we watch and we can sing along to all the songs. Sound good?" Santana asks hopefully.
"Okay!" Maya shouts as she hugs Santana.
Santana lets out a relieved sigh and holds her daughter close to her before whispering into the girl's ear. "Can you do one more thing for Mama?"
Maya nods against her mother's shoulder.
She continues to whisper. "I think maybe Rachel's a little sad, like her feelings are hurt. You're such a good hugger that I think it'd cheer her right up. Whaddaya think?"
"Do I hafta say sorry, too?" the little girl asks seriously.
"Yeah, baby. Think you can do that?" She looks into Maya's eyes.
The little girl rolls her eyes to the side as though considering her options. She finally meets her mom's eyes and nods. "Okay ... "
When Rachel hears the light tapping of shoes on the stage, she turns around. "Everything okay?"
Before the other woman can answer, Maya launches herself at Rachel's legs, squeezes them tightly and softly says, "I'm sorry I wasn't nice."
"Uh," the woman's eyes are wide in surprise and she rests her hand on the little girl's shoulder. It's clear that she's taken by surprise.
Santana smirks at Rachel and says, "It's okay to hug her back. She doesn't bite, I promise."
Rachel chuckles and rolls her eyes as she peels the girl's arms from around her legs. She kneels down so that she's eye-level with the little girl. "Wanna start over?" she asks.
Maya wrinkles her nose in confusion.
"I'm Rachel and I knew your mommy when she was little," she says, putting out her hand.
"Little like me?" Maya asks in amazement.
Rachel shakes her head. "Not that little," she says softly. "But close. What do you think? Wanna be friends?"
The little girl sizes up Rachel, squinting as she studies her face. "Okay," she finally says and takes the woman's hand. After a quick hand shake, Maya reaches out to hug her, again.
This time, Rachel hugs her back.
"Now that's more like it. Can Mama get in this hug, too?" She chuckles and starts walking over to the both of them.
"Yay!" Maya cheers, letting go of Rachel with one arm and reaching out to her mother.
Santana kneels down to wrap one arm around Maya and the other falls around Rachel.
Rachel stiffens for a second and forces herself to give her attention to the little girl's embrace, and not at all on the other arm that is securely around her.
"Well, this doesn't look like the scene of two women in love with the same man," a teasing voice calls out from the opposite side of the stage.
Rachel swallows roughly, a little embarrassed, and looks over her shoulder. "Blaine," she says as she quickly rises. "Um, we were just ... this is ..." She clears her throat nervously. "Santana Lopez, our new Lucy."
Santana furrows her brow at Rachel noting how the other woman looks almost as though she was caught doing something she shouldn't. She stands up and turns to Blaine, smiling softly at him. "Hi. I'm Santana." She holds her hand out for him.
"Yes, you are!" Blaine says, stamping his foot on the stage before taking her hand and shaking it vigorously. "When Art said he had a surprise for us, he meant it. Wow!" He looks at Santana in awe.
Maya squints at him and then asks, "Why's your hair all wet? Did you just get outta the bathtub?"
Rachel's laugh stops Blaine from answering. She waves her hand and says, "I'm sorry. Sorry." She presses her lips together and then, after another giggle, offers another, "sorry."
Blaine smoothes his hands over his hair and gives the little girl his best dapper smile. "It's hair gel, cutie pie." He winks at Maya and says, "Lemme guess, you're the new Emma, right?"
Rachel slaps his shoulder. "You shut your mouth!"
He laughs before blowing her a kiss. "You know I love you, Rachie."
"Don't call me that," she replies as she pretends to pluck his kiss from the air and put it on her cheek.
It's silly and even a little juvenile, as is much of what she has to say about her relationship with Blaine Anderson, but it's a thing they do. After two months of gruelling rehearsals, they were so giddy about their standing ovations at curtain that Rachel kissed Blaine's cheek. It probably wouldn't have mattered had he not insisted on meeting press right from the stage – with bright red lipstick on his cheek.
From that moment on, he's insisted that all kisses be sent airmail.
Santana looks between Rachel and Blaine before pursing her lips together. Her eyes narrow as she tries to figure them out. She knows she has no basis for thinking it, but she has a weird feeling as she watches them that they're together.
Not that it matters. Rachel can be with whomever she wants.
"Her name is Rachel," Maya offers smartly as she points to the woman. "And this is Mama."
Santana smirks and says, "But only Maya is allowed to call me that, so..." She chuckles and adds, "I think we're good sticking with Santana. I'm the new Lucy."
"Well hot da-" Blaine stops and looks down at Maya and then chooses another word, "dog. Hot dog." He chuckles. "Santana Lopez is our new Lucy." His shoulders bounce and he smiles happily. "That's it. I have to buy Art a thank you present."
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Do you remember when you told me to tell you when you're being too much?" she asks.
"No," he replies, his brows pushing together. "I never said that."
"You should have," Rachel notes. "I'd be telling you right now.
He rolls his eyes. "Aw, don't be jealous, Rachie." He winks at her and smiles charmingly. "You're still my number one girl."
Santana thinks that maybe it makes sense for Rachel to be with Blaine. They probably spend a lot of time together rehearsing and working. When you spend a lot of time with someone, sometimes things happen.
And Blaine is obviously talented if he's the lead in a Broadway show. Rachel's always been attracted to talent - always. She can even kind of see how he could be charming, you know, if you're into guys who look like they've just had their hair dipped into paint.
Maya tugs on her mother's jacket. "Mama, what's gel?"
Santana quietly jokes, "Something some people use too much of."
"Too much?" Blaine jokes. "No such thing."
Rachel's eyes widen and she pushes her lips together in a thin smile. "There is very much such a thing." She points her thumb to him.
"What? Is it gang up on Blaine day?" he asks, putting on a fake pout.
"Oh, put it away, Blaine," she says, laughing and poking his cheek. "You're a clown and you're showing off for Santana. Don't think I don't know your tricks."
He leans closer to Santana and, pushing his lips to the side he mutters. "Word of advice, don't pull focus. Ms. Berry likes her spotlight."
Santana clenches her jaw. "It's not like she doesn't deserve it. She's an amazing talent." She looks into Blaine's eyes, daring him to argue with her.
"Uh," he laughs nervously, his gaze flitting back and forth between the two women. "Okay. But I was just kidding. Everyone knows that Rach is great. The best even."
Rachel ignores the heat in her cheeks and stares at Santana, not quite sure what to say.
Blaine scratches his ear. "You know, Art's late so I'm just going to go check my messages. See if," he pops his brows up, "You-Know-Who called." He winks at Rachel and then quickly retreats to the other side of the stage, holding his cell to his ear.
"Sorry about Blaine," Rachel says after an awkward moment. "He's kind of a puppy dog, you know? He just kind of crashes into things as he runs around looking for someone to play with."
Santana tries her best not to frown as she looks into Rachel's eyes. "Oh, no. S'fine. She chuckles nervously. "Y'know, I figured you'd end up dating a co-star one day, but I guess I wasn't expecting someone like him."
"Dating?" Rachel echoes, looking at Santana in disbelief. "Blaine?"
He hears his name and looks over his shoulder at the pair. When it seems they weren't calling him over, he returns his attention to his phone.
"He doesn't look like a puppy dog," Maya says in confusion. "His hair isn't even fluffy."
"It's a figure of speech and," Rachel stops explaining what she meant and tilts her head. "What do you mean you figured I'd end up dating a co-star?"
"Oh, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I just - you like talented people." She purses her lips together.
"Oh," Rachel says. "Well, that's true." She nods a few times. "Oh! But, it's not true that we're dating," she adds. "I'm too feminine for his liking."
Santana furrows her brow. "Wait, what?"
Rachel uses her thumb to point at Blaine. "He likes boys," she states, shrugging like it's old news. "And, as much as I love him and I love playing around with him, I could never seriously consider dating someone who uses more product in his hair than I do."
Santana wrinkles her nose in embarrassment. "Oh."
"You know my type, Santana," she says softly. "It hasn't changed."
Maya tugs on her mom's jacket. "Can we get a dog?"
Santana ignores her daughter request, her gaze and soft smile trained on the woman in front of her.
"Is that a yes, Mama?"
The other woman breaks eye contact first and lets her gaze fall on Maya for a moment before she shyly looks back up. There's a nervous pull in her chest but she forces herself to ignore it. She has to. This is Santana Lopez. And Santana is currently married. Even if they are going through a rough patch right now, it doesn't change that fact that she's married - to a man.
Rachel clears her throat and pushes her hair behind her ear. "So, I'm going to text Art and see if he's almost here so we can get started."
Santana frowns slightly at the other woman's statement. She thought Rachel was going to say something else. Or maybe she was just hoping. She supposes that it's for the best that she doesn't. It would be a long, complex discussion and one that would be best when her daughter isn't in the room.
She clears her throat and offers, "It's probably traffic."
"That's what he'll say," Rachel jokes. "I'll just be a second," she points to the wings where she left her bag. Without waiting for a reply, she swiftly crosses the stage.
"Can I pick the puppy's name?" Maya asks, her eyes lit up with excitement.
Santana sighs and picks up Maya. "Baby, we're not getting a puppy."
"But you didn't say no," the little girl argues.
"I didn't say yes either, did I?" Santana plays with one of her curls.
Maya pouts. "You almost said yes."
Santana chuckles and kisses her cheek. "You know I didn't, baby girl."
Rachel walks back onto the stage and calls out loud enough for Blaine and Santana to hear. "I just talked to Artie. He wants us to go over the staging for each of our first numbers with Santana. He should be here soon."
Maya rests her head on her mother's shoulder. "You gotta work now?"
She nods her head and rests her chin on Maya's head gently. "Yeah, baby girl. Are you tired? Why don't you take a nap across those nice, comfy chairs?"
"'kay," the little girl says softly.
Blaine watches Santana settle her daughter. "So, I'm up first. Go sit, Rachel. Learn from the master."
The other woman rolls her eyes and heads down the steps to the house. "How long is your first number?" she asks Blaine.
"About six minutes including lead in, why?"
"Save a few seats for me, San," she calls out. "I might end up napping for about six minutes, too."