Notes: Our girls were being stubborn this chapter. Seriously, both of them... Anyway, this chapter's main purpose in life is to get them ready to interact next chapter.
I skipped last chapter for this, but I do really appreciate the alerts and favorites. The reviews, of course, have a special soft spot in my heart. Thank you!
Last thing, I do my own editing so I am bound to miss things. I'd really like this story to be as good as possible, so if you notice a mistake don't hesitate to tell me. I shall sneak in (like a ninja) and make things right.

(Hoping to Give In, Just Give Me an Excuse)

It was officially Santana's weekend now, being 3:25 on Friday and her last class of the day inches behind her. It had been a pretty good day as well, possibly worth celebrating. It wasn't 'aced a final' level, or anything, but she had pulled a B+ on her essay in Prof Holcomb's. It didn't sound that impressive if you didn't know about him. The urban legend went that he weighed papers and that anything less than 3 lbs was an instant failure, and that everything else was some kind of C. He did have a hanging scale in his office that would be perfect for it. Of course, Santana knew that if there was an urban legend like that about her that she'd go out of her way to have a scale in her office as well just to mess with people.

So, celebrating. It couldn't be huge, because she still had shit to do. There were other classes, other papers, many, many other things. So, no huge ass party- not that she had space to throw one and she actually didn't know if/where one was being held tonight. She stopped for a moment and contemplated the sadness of that truth. Since when did Santana Lopez not know where the action was? She was able to shrug it off though, when she informed herself that any party thrown at this point during the semester was bound to be lame and not worth knowing about anyway.

But then, what? She thought about calling Rachel, bragging a bit and asking how things were progressing for her. But then, it seemed a little sad and weird to call someone who was really only a potential friend about an essay that wasn't even a final. She made a command decision not to call, and another one not to think too hard about that little feeling of disappointment. She really didn't need to drag anyone along with her. She'd just have a casual drink (ie- nurse one or two cocktails for several hours because one, the drinks there were almost too costly to justify and two, drunken Santana was a manifestation she was determined to leave in the past) at her favorite jazz themed bar. Maybe she'd even let the band talk her into doing a song with them. She was, after all, feeling generous.


Rachel had mixed feelings about this move, not strong ones, just little reservations. Mostly it stemmed from the fact that she was still paid through the end of the semester for her ce… room. It was also the fact that even if she was really only taking two classes (and preparing for one hell of a concert), it wasn't exactly the summer after that she had envisioned moving during- the one where her stress was over and her fathers were in town to help with heavy lifting. Ricky had, however, found 'the perfect place'. She had to admit that it was well located and that they were totally going to be good for rent even with really crappy jobs between the four of them. And if you forgot how much it was going to suck when all four of them were tripping over each other in the two bedroom, one and a half bathroom apartment, you really could convince yourself that it was perfect.

There wasn't actually that much lifting to do. She'd had little enough space to really collect things before and she wasn't asking her dads to send very many things to add to the new apartment. None of them had furniture so what they ended up with would likely be delivered from a nearby IKEA. She really just had to go back, box her things, maybe rope in someone to hold a box or two on the train. She'd since decided that her initial thoughts on who to invite would be entire inappropriate. Somehow she didn't think, 'Hey, good to see you again! I need a favor...' would work that well. Even without help though, it was as good as done... Maybe she'd just sleep on it first, move tomorrow…


It was two thirds of a drink and four songs into the evening and it was clearly not going the way Santana had envisioned. Her favorite band wasn't playing today. This band wasn't bad or anything, but there would be no not-really-drunken singing with them. It should have been fine but she found herself feeling disappointed. She should have called a friend. Checking out a jazz bar was surely a good enough excuse… well, it would have been if the awesome band who encouraged semi-drunken singing had been here.

Santana was just thinking that she'd finish her current drink and call it a night when she heard the line courtesy of the presence beside her. The Latina swung only partially curious eyes over to see what she was dealing with. Her own lack of interest surprised her- since when was Santana Lopez not in the mood? But she so wasn't. She really should have invited a friend.

The girl was looking for a good time and she was looking for it in Santana's direction. The woman was undoubtedly attractive, and judging by the already half victorious look on her face, knew it too. Looking past the expression there were other signs to be observed: her stance, choice of openers, and hey, wasn't that a copy of Atlas Shrugged under her arm? Santana stirred her drink, putting together those and other traits she was able to notice at a glance and coming to the conclusion that she had been in that 'relationship'. Oh, she'd never seen this particular woman before, but she was of a certain kind, and Santana had dated a representative or four. "Date three, you dump a glass of water on my head, leaving me baffled as to what the hell I did wrong this time," she mumbles. At the shocked and slightly offended look the comment provokes she stands and adds more clearly, "Then again, you're blonde which tends to magnify the bad in my life. Maybe the glass would have acid in it instead."

Suddenly the woman was marching out and there were the remnants of a drink all over Santana's face. "And we weren't even going out…" It also struck her as somewhat amusing that she probably deserved this more than she had last time. This time she knew that she'd been rude, whereas she still didn't know what had set Victoria off. As she took a tissue from her purse and wiped the mix away she couldn't help thinking to herself that she should have called a friend.


There were four boxes and one proper suitcase, all packed and ready to go. There was also a laptop bag, but since the computer in question was very much out (up and running) it couldn't be counted. Rachel hadn't been able to help it. There was a job to do and she'd done it. Of course, to be honest, most of it had already been done. Over the last week she'd gotten rid of everything she didn't want to move- throwing a lot of things away, and selling probably half of her textbooks back to the bookstore. The cash she'd gotten for said exchange was a little disappointing. She remembered spending a small fortune on those books. In return she had enough to either take herself out for a nice meal, or she could take a friend to a sort of nice meal.

Rachel turned back to her laptop, hand leading the mouse to select the second page from her favorites. It was a site for actors to monitor auditions for off and off-off Broadway productions. It was a good site, listing which roles were still open and any information the directors had given out about what type they were looking for to fill it. So far Rachel had only gone to a handful of auditions, but she had made use of the information and from what she'd seen, it had been fully accurate.

It would be nice to have a role, any role that she'd be paid for. Though an honor to be in a Julliard production, she still had been technically paying them. First of all, there was the cash, and the implications of grocery money that didn't involve utilizing the food handler's permit she'd grudgingly gotten over three years ago when she'd been forced to admit that her plans just weren't going to work without factoring in summer jobs. Speaking of making money, the value of having your first role under your belt when looking to further a career was another thing that was simply undeniable. There were the bragging rights too. She loved hearing the pride in her fathers' voices when she told them her good news. She also loved hearing the envy and grudging happiness for her in Kurt's voice.

She wondered what she'd hear in Santana's voice if she could tell her about having a part in a professional play... The singer abruptly stopped thinking about it, or at least tried to, lingering for a moment on the idea that it would be a fantastic excuse to call before turning her full concentration back to the lists on her screen. She'd been officially fully diverted by the prospect of being in a off (off-off) Broadway production of Rocky Horror when her phone rang.