This chapter kept going and I had to split it in two. It was at least five thousand words. Also, I've fallen in love with one of my characters and I wish I could write an entire chapter based on Reagan. She's fun. Anyway! Mistakes are mine!
Early Sunday morning found Santana and Eva in the grocery store staring at the most extensive collection of pasta they'd ever seen. Of course, the moment was lost on Eva as it was three o'clock in the morning, and she was too tired to function.
"I cannot believe you," she sighed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "You wake me up in the middle of the night to take you to the only twenty-four-hour store within in driving distance, which, might I add, is an hour away from the house, and you have the nerve not to know what you want to buy!"
"Look, I realized I don't have any pasta on the menu. I just don't know what kind of pasta to get."
"You literally just proved my point."
Santana ignored her, and Eva groaned, knowing the longer she stood there not helping the longer it would take for them to go home. Glancing around quickly, Eva pointed to the box of Capellini pasta.
"Use that one," she said. "We can grab tomatoes and basil on our way out. You have plenty of oil, garlic, and cheese at home. It's simple, won't take long, and you don't have to worry about time because it'll literally take you five minutes to throw it all together."
"I- thank you," Santana said softly. "I know you're tired and I'm sorry for having you drive all the way out here. I just want tonight to be perfect."
"I know, love. I'm just cranky."
Santana smiled and picked the box off the shelf, pulling out her phone to erase the item off her list. It was then Eva realized she had no idea what her girlfriend was cooking for dinner or how much food she was preparing.
"How many people are coming again?"
"Well, Sam's parents changed their minds about coming so they'll be there now, my Dad is coming, Noah's Dad, Sue and Xavier, the guards and bikers, plus us and the court…" Santana trailed off with a glazed look in her eyes before she finally answered, "I'd say around thirty, thirty-five people."
"WHAT!" Eva exclaimed. "I didn't know you were supposed to be cooking for that many people. I was expecting like ten or fifteen, but thirty? No way! We can order a pizza or maybe some Chinese takeout or-
Santana jerked her close and put her index finger over Eva's lips, effectively cutting off her rant. "Hush, baby. I got this. Let me worry about the food while you worry about everything else. I promise I have this under control."
Eva knew she should've responded, but she was distracted by the urge to take Santana's bottom lip between her teeth and give it a good tug. She kept staring at the maroon-painted lips, seeing the glimpses of white and wanted to take her girlfriend against the wall of organic pasta. At that thought, Eva blinked, stepped back, and folded her arms.
"Sorry," she said, her voice cracking at the end.
Santana brushed past her, a knowing smile on her face, and Eva's eyes drifted down to the jean covered ass. It amazed her how much more attractive Santana was when she was wearing her clothes, and considering the pants were just a little too baggy, showing flashes of red lace, Eva was proud of herself for not drooling in the middle of the aisle. When perfectly manicured fingers wrapped suddenly around her neck, Eva kicked herself for not noticing Santana had come back. The grip tightened until she was gasping for air, Santana nipping at her jaw but never staying long enough to leave a mark, and black dots filled her vision. Once the hand was gone, Eva took a deep breath while Santana walked away, pretending as if nothing happened, but Eva didn't have that luxury. She ran a hand through her hair, looking around to see if anyone was watching, and then exhaled shakily.
"Fuck man," she groaned.
Santana vanished around the corner, and Eva forced herself to move. She took measured steps, keeping her head down and never allowing herself to make any type of contact with the warm body next to her, but Eva could barely tell the difference between an onion and an apple at that moment. Santana had the upper hand, and as long as the punishment was still in play, Eva was screwed.
Sunday afternoon, about two hours before the dinner, Brittany sucked on a lollipop as she watched Quinn walk around the room in a towel. Her friend had a body that most people paid a lot of money for, and it was on display as she searched through the clothes Sue went out and bought for her.
"Suit or a dress?" Quinn asked, keeping her back to Brittany.
"Is nothing an option?" she murmured, practically drooling at the flexing muscles.
"Are- really?"
Brittany shrugged and continued ogling while Quinn chose a pair of dark blue suit pants and a white shirt. "I mean, I would not be opposed if you came downstairs in your birthday suit," she said.
Quinn paused and looked back at her. "Are you flirting with me or just being Britt?" she asked.
"Both. Too bad I can't act on my hormones."
"Not asking because I want it to happen, but why?"
"Because we don't have time for what I want to do with you."
"Says who?"
Brittany accidentally bit through her lollipop, causing pieces of candy to fall to the carpet. She was glad she wasn't wearing any underwear. They would've been ruined by that simple comment. Quinn crossed the room and stood over her, her hair dripping wet. Drops of water landed on Brittany's face as Quinn bent down.
"Out of curiosity, what exactly do you want to do with me?" she whispered right before the door opened.
"Not a fucking chance," Santana drawled. "If I can't get any, you two sure as hell can't, and won't, get any."
Brittany scoffed. "YOU are the reason you can't have sex, not us!" she argued.
"And I am the reason YOU two aren't going to have it any time soon," she said pointedly. "Plus, Eva needs you downstairs for something, Britt."
"For what?"
"I have no idea. I'm only the messenger."
"More like the errand girl," Quinn mumbled.
Santana moved faster than either of them anticipated, and Quinn yelped as her legs were kicked out from under her. Santana huffed, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face, and stared meaningfully at Brittany. "If you aren't down there in the next minute, she'll come up and get you. If you think I'm cranky at the lack of sex, just imagine how much worse she is, and multiply that by ten," she warned.
Brittany groaned, never being more frustrated at Santana and Eva than in that moment, and Santana snickered as she left the room, leaving the door wide open.
"Go on, you know she's right," Quinn said, finally climbing back to her feet.
"Monday can't come soon enough."
"And neither can they."
Brittany fake-gagged. "Gross. I didn't need that image in my head," she said.
"You'll live. Now, go on! Wasn't like we were doing anything anyway."
"Not for lack of trying." Quinn laughed, and Brittany decided to get in one last comment. With her hand on the door and an evil glint in her eye, she added, "Plus, I think Tina would feel slighted for having fun without her."
Quinn's shoulders tensed so quickly that she would've missed it had she not been looking for it. Smiling, Brittany closed the door on Quinn's half-hearted sputtering and stuck her tongue out at Santana as she found her standing right outside the room.
"Must you torture her like that?" she asked.
"Eavesdropping? How childish of you," Brittany said dryly.
"The walls are thin."
"Liar."
"One of the best."
"And this is why I hate you."
"Love you too."
Brittany turned on her heel in the direction of the basement and hummed under her breath. She was somewhat teasing Quinn, but the idea of having both her and Tina in bed at the same time seemed more appealing the longer she thought about it.
Wow. This family has turned into a bunch of sex-deprived psychopaths, she thought.
A half hour before they were due to arrive at the address provided, Reagan's leg bounced up and down as she sat in the passenger's seat. She'd spent most of their morning scrubbing down the hotel bathroom, living room, and parts of the bedroom. It concerned AJ how much blood she trekked in and around the suite, but Reagan countered his worry by saying that the more mess she made, the more efficient she could be.
He still shot her weird looks when she thought he wasn't looking.
When they saw the sign indicating Lima was forty miles away, AJ spoke for the first time since they'd gotten on the road.
"I looked her up."
Reagan didn't respond though she was proud of him for lasting as long as he did without mentioning her sister.
"She lives in the same house. Her Dad works at the hospital, and I thought we could drive by the place before we leave. We don't have to go in, but I know you can tell a lot about someone just by seeing how they live."
Reagan focused on the orange and red blurs to her right, her leg no longer bouncing, and AJ turned on the radio, but not before he got in one last shot.
"You deserve to see her again, Ray. Your happiness matters to me, and if seeing her makes you happy, then we will see her before we leave. No matter if I have to tie you down and drag you there myself."
Reagan reached over and raised the volume of the song playing. AJ had a good heart, good intentions, but she'd lived long enough avoiding her problems, and she wasn't going to change just because her brother wanted to be sentimental.
Santana ran around the kitchen, her hair still up in rollers, and she smacked Puck's hands away as he tried to snatch a piece of garlic toast.
"Touch again, and I remove your hand," she growled at him.
Puck was dragged away by Sam, who shot Santana an apologetic smile, but she bared her teeth at him. Brittany and Quinn picked up different plates, taking them into the dining room/conference room, and Santana could see Eva leading Shelby down into the basement. Part of her wondered if someone else needed to go down there with them, but Eva had a plan, and Santana would stick to it, no matter how much she wanted to say screw it and hang Shelby from the banisters like a prized animal.
"Oh, God," Santana whispered. "I'm turning into my girlfriend."
"Not too sure that's a good thing, Kid."
She glared at Xavier, and the biker put his hands up in surrender before snatching the two bottles of wine off the counter. Santana's heart rate spiked when Eva came back upstairs, alone, but her girlfriend gave her a small smile tinged with restrained fury, and all was right in the world.
Sort of.
Santana was still very much worried about her state of mind after she realized part of her was hoping Eva would lose control of her anger and give Shelby more than a whack on the head.
"I need a drink," she muttered, putting the back of her hand against her forehead.
A glass of scotch appeared in her vision, and she took it gratefully.
"It's a double," her father warned.
Santana downed the whole glass and passed it back to her father. "Next time make it a triple," she sighed.
"I'm almost positive this warrants a talk about the dangers of alcoholism."
"It'll be a waste of time," she said.
"Clearly. You drank that without coughing, and that was the strongest scotch in the cabinet. Didn't it burn going down?"
"Duh. That's how I know it's working."
Antonio snickered at his daughter, glad that despite all of the painful reminders in their relationship they could still laugh with one another, and he kissed the top of her head just as the doorbell rang.
"Baby! Can you and Sam get the door!" Eva shouted from the living room.
Sam had just come into the kitchen, his hands halfway to the pan containing the steak, and Santana felt her father removing the rollers from her hair. When he finished, Sam held out his arm and Santana slipped hers into the crook of his elbow.
"You ready?" he whispered in her ear.
Knowing Sam nor the others knew about her connection to the Giovanni family, and hoping that Mr. Giovanni sent someone that wouldn't recognize her, she put on a fake smile and said, "Absolutely."
Reagan had her eyes searching the compound, impressed with its size when the door opened. It took about ten seconds for the brown eyes on the opposite side of the threshold to widen in shock, and Reagan cursed every deity in existence for the massive shit storm that was her life. Even after all that time, Reagan recognized the girl standing in front of her. The lack of reaction on AJ's part told Reagan he was bluffing in the car about looking her up. He wasn't that great of an actor.
"What did I do to deserve this?" she sighed.
AJ elbowed her, hard, in the side, and Reagan saw the dark look her sister shot him.
"Uh, welcome to Krayevsky Estate. My name is Sam, and the lovely woman beside me is Santana," the blond announced.
AJ finally reacted with a gasp, and she sneered at him before she said, "Thanks for the invitation. My name is Reagan Giovanni, and this is my brother AJ."
"Would you like to come in?" Sam asked, opening the door wider.
"No, we want to stand out here in the cold all night," she muttered under her breath.
AJ nudged her again, and Santana's hand shot forward. Reagan watched amusedly as her sister yanked AJ down to her level, and very clearly whispered something in his ear that made his skin pale noticeably. She released him, and AJ cleared his throat, trying to pretend like nothing happened.
"Right then," Sam said slowly, trying to break some of the tension. "How about you all come in and make yourselves at home?"
Reagan winced at his comment, knowing he didn't mean it in the way she interpreted it, and she removed her jacket once inside. Santana stayed behind her, and Reagan paused when she felt a hand grip the back of her dress. Sam looked at something over her shoulder, a frown on his face, but it was obvious he eventually gave in to whatever he was uncomfortable with doing once he turned to her brother and smiled tightly.
"So, AJ," he started, "how about I show you around while we wait for the other guests to arrive?"
"Cool, I love a good house tour."
Reagan refrained from slapping her brother in the back of his head for such an asinine comment and waited until the two were gone before she turned around. However, the moment she faced her sister, Santana punched her in the face. Reagan's head jerked back, but she recovered quickly and yawned to get rid of the pain in her jaw.
"And here I was thinking you would hate me," she said sarcastically.
"I don't hate you."
"You just punched me in the face!"
"You would have done the same if I had hugged you. I just cut out the middle man."
"You're ridiculous."
"Pot. Kettle."
"I'm surprised you're talking to me still," Reagan said.
"Why would you say that?" Santana asked.
"Because I stopped writing."
"I stopped caring."
"I'm torn between feeling insulted and proud at that comment."
"Of course, you are."
"Not to be a bitch, but that dress makes you look like a slut."
Santana rubbed her temples and said, "I hope you aren't this pleasant around my girlfriend because I have no intentions of cleaning blood out of the carpet tonight."
"Girlf-wait, why would you be cleaning blood out of the carpet? Do you work here?"
"Are you asking if I'm the maid?
"Yes."
"No, dumbass, I live here!"
"With your girlfriend?"
"Yes."
"Why are you and your girlfriend living at the-" Reagan stopped and her eyes widened. "Eva's your girlfriend?"
"I knew you'd catch on eventually," Santana drawled.
Reagan started laughing. "Well, fuck. I may just enjoy this dinner after all."
"The more I'm with you, the more I wonder how in the world I ever missed you."
"Again, proud and insulted."