DISCLAIMER: Nope none okay

AN: Soo I decided that I think I do like the last chapter- so that's good!

Ps. This chapter has some… colorful language? So just a heads up, if that bothers you

….

"fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…." Dani continued to mumble through her jaw, clenched as her eyes were in fear of what was about to happen.

The music stopped. Her ears burned with the silence; they buzzed with the emptiness that filled the singular second that she allowed to slip by before she blurted out what she swore to keep inside.

"FUCK I'M FAMOUS OKAY?... okay? Fuck fucking shit FUCK"

Santana just kind of stared at her after that. She had just turned on the phone to pause the music, seeing as it was far too loud to hold any kind of conversation, which was exactly what the Latina had been planning to attempt. There was no secret told when she pressed power; there was no lock screen to be seen- only Beyoncé cover art. But Dani didn't know that.

Then there was Santana, who knew no better than to assume that the woman falling apart in front of her was simply another New Yorker gone crazy; some outlandish person who rode the train… it really wasn't something out of the ordinary, but it just wasn't how Santana had expected this to play out; how she expected the woman to play out. But, she was left to believe that she had been sharing her subway car #1 with a lunatic all along.

They were both oblivious in their own right.

….

It's funny- the story about their first kiss that they'll end up telling their kids won't be all that accurate. It won't be a tale of this day, but of another. But nevertheless, it was this subway ride that Dani first felt the lips of this impossibly important stranger whom she had sworn out of her star-studded life.

This is how it happened:

Santana shoved aside any misgivings, which were only growing with the realization that this other woman was "crazy." Suddenly, the space between the two was non-existent. Not with a kiss, no; but with an embrace.

It was Santana's new goal to comfort this mystery of a woman- sane or not.

Dani was shaking the whole time. She didn't know what she was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't this. She'd figured that the stranger would have recognized her even in sunglasses and covered in thick clothing if the woman had been a die-hard fan. The only hugs she'd received recently were from people precisely in that category- and those ones were suffocating and unpleasant. But this- this hug- was not anything like that; it was quite the contrary;

It was calming.

Secretly, it had this effect on both the women standing there in the empty, fast-moving subway car. The world above them was separated by layers upon layers of cement and dirt and earth. They were truly alone in their underground embrace.

The waitress and the celebrity… What an interesting pair.

…..

The remaining minutes of their bi-daily journey ended as it had begun: separately. But that is only how they left; the trip leading up to that was spent together, in near silence, in the midst of unknown thoughts, fears, worries and an embrace which temporarily erased all those things from their minds. But in their departure, all that was left were the dregs of the events that had occurred in the past half hour, left only to be recalled in their minds.

Dani continuously attempted to replay the feelings; the feelings which she had been deprived of for so long; they were alien to her, in the fast-paced, professional world that she now lived in. She longed for more feelings like that.

But, to the celebrity's dismay, she could not recreate them; she couldn't do it justice. The closest she could come to revel and relive those moments was in the conversation; it occurred somewhere in the middle of all the madness of her life and the serendipity of the embrace she shared, which somehow held her up beneath all the impossible pressure.

Her eyes were shut. Even if she tried to open them, they would just open to meet the soft blackness of a dark trench coat. She was moving her head to a position where she wouldn't have to deal with the unpleasant feeling of soaked cloth against her raw skin when she heard a noise apart from the screeching wheels against their tracks or the harsh metal clashing with more harsh metal; it was then when Santana spoke for the first time since Dani's meltdown at the beginning of their commute:

"So you're a celebrity. You're a celebrity, and I'm gay.. And Betty White is old and Oprah is black and Lady Gaga is just straight up weird- big friggin' deal. It's okay. I'm okay and you're going to be okay too, okay?" She lifted the other woman's head gently by her chin to look into her eyes. "Look at me—"

"Dani.." She filled in sheepishly as she sniffled. She didn't understand why this woman was so kind, let alone so unfazed by it all… Come to think of it, Santana didn't know why either, although for different reasons.

"Look at me, Dani. We're okay. We're alright. We're gay, we're celebrities,- who gives a shit? We're whatever the fuck it is that we are. We are not words. When you look at me, you aren't going to think 'homo or fag or satan…' I hope-" She stopped to see Dani nod and then resumed her little pep-talk, "and when I look at you, I'm not going to think 'rich or selfish or celebrity.' I'm going to see you and think 'beatiful, myserious Dani.' And you're going to see me and think 'stupidly-sentimental, stranger-lovin Santana.' And that's that."

And just like that, Santana planted a chaste, reserved, but tellingly caring kiss on the fragile forehead of the equally fragile woman she had learned to be Dani.

A kiss..

..the first of what was sure to be many.

….

AN: Oh lordy I'm sure this one has plenty of typos. I'll get around to fixing those up eventually…

And I know it probably seems like it's moving pretty fast and easily, but that's just for this chapter. I thought it was necessary for the situation

Do you guys like this length or should I hold off and write more before I post/just post longer chapters but a bit less frequently?

Happy weekend :)