Summary: Santana runs a snarky little chocolate shop in Brooklyn with patrons she loves insulting. Rachel just wants some chocolate.
Pairing: Santana/Rachel
"I think I'll take two bags of those chocolate covered coffee beans and one of those café torino things to go." The middle-aged paramedic stated after an agonizing forty seven seconds of deliberation.
Santana endured this every single day from the man, and while she was happy as hell to have him as a committed regular to her quaint little shop, she was also pretty sure he was going to die soon from his coffee and chocolate intake. That concern almost outweighed the fact that she made some decent coin off of him on a daily basis.
"Walt, you obnoxious fuck. Every day you come in here, every day you put on that ineffective thinking cap, and you squeeze together enough brain cells to tell me an order that you could just call your usual, like any remotely intelligent customer would." Santana groaned, scowling at the man as she prepped his espresso-filled dark hot chocolate, topping it with a bit less foam than others got. Because seriously? If he wasn't gonna worry about his health, being a paramedic and all, she would step in a bit, considering it wasn't on her own dime.
"You wound me, Satan. More in my wallet than anything, but my wife won't complain. I'm sure she'd order those beans from you in bulk if you'd let her." Walt noted in jest, laughing a little as she slid him his take-out cup and the bag of chocolate-covered wake-me-ups.
"Like you don't just pop those all night to stay awake. You forget you've been coming here for two years, Walt, I know you work midnights most Thursdays, and you're always tired as fuck when you come in here. These things don't cure dead bedrooms, man, no matter how easily they'll have you vibrating and thinking you're better than a Hitachi." Santana snarked back with a grin; it was probably the best thing about her job, being able to insult her customers. Hell, not just the ability to do so, but the expectation.
Santana had opened her sleepy little chocolate shop a few years back in a tiny storefront in Park Slope, mostly because her aunt knew the owner and therefore the rent was affordable so long as she was willing to put in the work to make the place not look like an abandoned convenience store-turned-meth lab. It was strange that a craving for chocolate and a need to have more on hand for personal traumas had led to creating a little shop, but it had served her well. She'd only struggled a little early on before a nearby precinct and hospital staff took notice and used her place as a hangout of sorts. The location, while not ideal, was pretty great, being close to cop shops, hospitals, BAM, the Atlantic terminal and the Barclays center. Sure, people rarely made their way down the street to her place from some of those hot-spots, but it happened on occasion.
In a way, it seemed like a risky play to be so crass and insulting to cops, doctors, nurses and paramedics, but they ate it up and kept coming back, so she just kept at it. It gave her place a rep amongst the locals, and while that didn't particularly make her renowned throughout Brooklyn, it gave her shop enough business to survive pretty comfortably. Mostly, she sold coffee and hot chocolate to overworked people working terrible shifts, but enough people came by to buy up her cakes, brownies, sauces, confections and all the other stuff she had on stock too. It took a while to make sure she didn't overstock the expensive shit that went bad quick, but after a few months in operation, Santana had it down to a science.
"If I tell you it's for my partner, would you believe me?" Walt asked as he stepped away from the front counter, letting the next person in line move up.
"You know I have no problem with two guys getting together, Walt, it's good you're being honest with yourself, finally." Santana teased playfully, earning a middle finger for her efforts. "Get out of here, you addict."
When she focused on the patron that replaced Walt at the front of the counter, Santana let out an exasperated sigh. "God damnit, Lucas. I swear to god, if you ask me for another bag of brownies I can't be held accountable for you getting diabetes."
"Ah, shut it, Lopez, and give me what I want. Besides, why are you complaining? You're the one screwing me over with this overpriced shit." The detective bit back with a shake of his head and an expectant outstretched hand. Grumbling, Santana marched over by her oven and packaged up the fresh batch she'd baked up an hour earlier.
"You usually eat shit and tell? Not my fault your fat ass is willing to pay eight bucks for a bag. I swear, Lucas, your spirit animal is a twenty-two year old pot-head with the munchies." Santana complained, grabbing the man's twenty and getting his change. "Like, seriously, the chocolate covered strawberries are the same price, and would both be healthier and let you wax nostalgic about that rookie you were dating last year…who was it, Margulies?"
The man took his change and brownies and scoffed, pocketing the money. "Go to hell, Lopez." The man laughed, returning to the table of off-duty cops over in the corner of her shop. She made the effort to point to her sign and the appropriately themed decorations littering her shop; it wasn't called Devilish Delectables for nothing. She'd been called Satan almost all her life by people of all ages, and that moniker stuck enough for her to use it for inspiration in naming her little café.
Happy that it was nearing close and she didn't have a lineup anymore, she got around to performing her usual late night clean-up. Up until a little over a year ago, she'd always made sure to work mornings and have her cousins take the night shifts, but the change of pace in working late shifts had provided her with some decent laughs and customers. Sure, she was usually robbed of a good night's sleep and any fun activities, given she had mornings off, but sometimes it was worth it.
At about forty minutes to closing time, the door swung open, which was a bit weird because it was almost midnight, and most people who came by later at night came earlier at the end of their shifts or right before they started them. Santana looked up from the counter she'd just cleaned off and spotted this absolute hobbit of a woman; she couldn't have been much taller than five feet, and the brunette was anxiously looking over her menu.
Deciding clean-up could wait a bit, Santana walked back over to the front counter and gave the woman an appraising look, noticing the brunette looked a little upset and had dried tear tracks on her cheeks. "You're new…and you're not wearing scrubs or a uniform. Let me guess, you finished watching 'Beaches' on Lifetime and needed some comfort chocolate, and google maps led you here?"
The woman took a step back, her mouth agape in both surprise and seemingly offense. As if Santana hadn't dealt with women coming in late at night after Hallmark or Lifetime channel movie marathons looking for some chocolate to drown their emotions in.
"What…wow, that's hardly a way to speak to a customer. And 'Beaches' is a classic!" The brunette noted indignantly, stomping her foot on the hardwood floor in apparent annoyance. It was all a little ridiculous.
"Please, I give the boys of the 78th way more hell, especially if they come in this late. So calm your skeeterbites and tell me what I can get you." Santana retorted, cocking her hip to the side and crossing her arms, waiting for whatever order was given. If she was a betting girl, she'd guess her last batch of brownies were about to head out the door, but new customers were always tricky to pin down.
The brunette's hand went to her chest in shock, a flicker of fury overtaking the woman's face; clearly, her new customer had a flair for the dramatic. Lovely.
"I beg your pardon! Is your manager around? I'd like to file a complaint." The woman demanded, drawing a laugh from her and a few other patrons. Because seriously, any time someone wanted to complain about her language was kind of hilarious. Especially seeing the looks on their faces when she'd tell them that she was the owner. The new customer was no different.
Santana grabbed her trusty notepad and pen and looked up at the woman expectantly. "Alright, you've got the store owner at your service. But while you rant to me, can you at least figure out what you want to get, because I'd like to get out of here before one."
The woman's face went red as she scowled at Santana, but the customer gamely went on with her complaint. "I feel it's absolutely inappropriate of you to be so antagonizing to your customer base, and if I were to give this shop a score out of five stars in the realm of customer service it would receive none. I came in here tonight after a hard night's work, not having noticed this shop before, and decided to get myself and my boyfriend a little treat. But since you've been so unnecessarily mean, I am close to changing my mind."
Santana nodded, jotting the statement down before sticking it up on her wall of complaints beside the cash register. "Okay, whatever. Most don't ramble on that long, but you seem determined to annoy me tonight. So, have you figured out what you want yet, or am I gonna have to put up with you humming and hawing over my stuff?"
"I'M annoying YOU? I came here, to YOUR store, to get some sort of chocolate and that's somehow a BURDEN on you? You're unbelievable!" The brunette ranted, throwing her arms up in outrage, as if it was some major offense to have stated the obvious. It was close to closing time. Santana had clean up to do. She WAS annoyed.
"And you're taking your sweet ass time ordering, so I'll speed things along. It's cold tonight, and you're tiny, so some hot chocolate mix would probably work well. And for more immediate needs, you could get some brownies, a few cupcakes, or something. That work for you?" Santana asked, rolling her eyes, deciding to be a little less snarky and a little more helpful so that the whole ordeal could be over with sooner.
"Well, I'm technically vegan, so I'm not sure what I can eat out of your products, though my boyfriend has been pressuring me into being a vegetarian instead, so I'm pretty sure if I did what he wanted, most of what you have would be okay, but I've been vegan for over twelve years, and it makes me anxious and guilty to step away from that, and eating milk chocolate will likely make me feel even guiltier, and…" The woman rambled hastily, her struggle clear both through her words and body language, and while the brunette speaking in paragraph form was annoying as hell, Santana was more annoyed by the boyfriend. Honestly, she wasn't one to discriminate or hate people for their eating habits, she owned a damn chocolate shop of all things, and hearing that the woman was being pressured by her boyfriend to change that for him was a piss off.
Santana let out a sigh and began gathering a few things from her shelf and the bins behind the counter, quickly lining up the stack of items on the front counter beside an empty gift basket. "Okay, so here's how this is gonna go, because I'm feeling generous and I got a lot of tips tonight. Here's three chocolate bars…two are 53% and one is 70% and a little fruity and spicy. They're all dark chocolate and all vegan. Guilt free, so nibble away at them like a woodland creature or bake with them, whatever you want. On top of that, I have a bag of dark chocolate covered grahams, because they're a decent snack and also vegan. There's a small bag of hot chocolate mix, which again is vegan…it's my personal spiced blend, because it's fucking cold outside and a lot of these buildings around here have shit for heaters and furnaces, and it's my best seller in the winter for a reason. And…if you feel up to it, a handful of milk chocolate covered strawberries, because if you're gonna give in and try being veggie, you can at least have it be something healthier. Twenty percent off because if some of this stuff isn't sold before I close tonight, I'm bringing it home and my roommate will eat it and complain to me about getting fat all weekend long. Half off if you tell your boyfriend you're staying vegan and that he can go fuck himself."
Santana cocked an eyebrow at the customer, feeling she'd laid out a pretty enticing offer all things considered. In truth, only the strawberries wouldn't be sold the next day, but the grahams were getting a little older, going on two days now. Still tasty and fresh enough, though.
The customer bit her lip and teetered forward, leaning against the counter and scoping out the products. "That's a lot of chocolate. Probably expensive."
"Not so expensive if you take the half off deal." Santana noted with a smirk, catching the brunette's slightly flustered gaze.
"I'm not going to tell my boyfriend to…to…fudge off." The woman mumbled, blushing fiercely; it was almost kind of cute, really. They were in a haven of profanity, and the customer was refusing to swear. Kind of adorable.
Santana knelt down and pulled out one of the sampler bags she'd occasionally give to kids if their parents spent a ridiculous amount of money in one go. And hell, the woman was about the same size as most kids of a reasonable age, anyway. She checked to make sure the contents were all vegan, just containing some grahams, chocolate covered raisins, and a peanut butter cup. If she were to be honest, Santana wouldn't be able to say why she was considering being so kind to the woman. Maybe it was because she hated when people told her what to do and saw that the woman was struggling with that from someone who should have known better.
"It's late and I need to get back to cleaning up, so take this sampler, and call me when you make up your mind." Santana stated as she handed over the bag, promptly stepping away afterward toward the mop so she could hopefully not get home late. Despite working such late shifts, she always had to wake up early, and even a half hour of lost sleep was enough to really make a difference.
It was ten minutes to close when she heard the brunette call her over and Santana felt thankful that she'd accomplished pretty much everything except emptying the cash and re-organizing the stock room. As she approached the front counter, she could see that the sampler bag had been emptied, and the brunette was hungrily staring at the products she'd laid out on the counter nearly half an hour ago.
"I think I'd like to take you up on your offer." The woman stated confidently, her eyes never leaving the bag of chocolate grahams. Santana smirked victoriously, knowing her rather sinfully delicious treats were hard to resist.
"And which one is that?" Santana asked, tilting her head to the side a bit in question, wondering if the woman would have the brass ovaries to stand up for herself.
Her customer teetered back and forth, shifting her weight from one foot to the other nervously. "If…if I really strongly oppose his declarations that me being a vegan is stupid, but decide not to utilize curse words in doing so, does the larger deal still stand?"
Santana felt herself scowl instinctively at the newly gained knowledge, biting back remarks about the boyfriend that would probably get her arrested for some violation or another, being that they were all basically threats of some sort. "Sure, kitten. Just don't take that shit from him…if you're cool being vegan like I'm cool being a meat-eater, then fuck, whatever. Own that, like all the other crazy vegans who stop by here. No reason to feel guilty about any of that. Now, if you stop by my shop daily for two bags of brownies like a fat ass for months on end, maybe then you should reconsider your life choices." She finished, shifting her gaze to the five cops still hanging out in the corner of her shop, Lucas having clearly finished his second bag. After being graced with yet another middle finger waved in her direction, she looked back to the blushing customer.
"I suppose I'll take the gift basket then." The brunette noted quietly with a small smile, sounding a little shy of all things. Which, really, just meant that if the woman stopped by again in the future, she'd direct her teasing to probably take advantage of that. "And thank you. I suppose it would be unhealthy to bow to all of my boyfriend's demands, especially ones that would compromise my personal ethics for his convenience."
Santana shrugged and packaged up the items, wrapping the bag in plastic to shield it from the light snowfall outside. "All in a day's work." She noted playfully, ringing up the woman's total and activating the debit machine.
Once completed, the woman took hold of the basket, flashed her a thankful smile, and turned toward the door, stopping just a few feet from it. "Just for your information, my name is Rachel Berry, not 'kitten'." The woman said with slightly narrowed eyes, looking over her shoulder.
Santana shook her head and smirked, feeling that maybe she'd have another regular popping by her shop after this. "Sure thing, kitten." She answered with a teasing smile, watching the woman's blush deepen before her newest customer walked out of the shop and into the wintery night. Maybe the woman HAD been a little annoying at times, and definitely wasn't anything like her usual demographic, but there was just something about her that had Santana hoping that the brunette would return sooner rather than later.
Or, you know, it could just be the fumes from all the cleaning products getting to her head.
So yeah, I had an AU idea of Santana running this tiny little chocolate shop/cafe and being snarky all day everyday to her customers, and Rachel pops by after doing an off-Broadway show at the BAM.
I used The Chocolate Room and Nunu chocolates as inspiration for what Santana's shop offers, and where it's located (the upcoming 5th ave shop in Brooklyn for The Chocolate Room, thus the reference to the 78th precinct, the hospitals nearby, etc.). Both places have kickass chocolate stuff, so if you're ever around there, you should seriously get some of their stuff. So glorious. Much delicious.
Anywho, this was just something I typed up during a period of being unable to sleep. Let me know if you want this expanded upon, it was fun, in a hazy, I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing-but-I'm-too-tired-to-care sort of way. :P
So yeah, I hope you enjoyed this fever-dream sort of ficlet, and that your weekends have been sufficiently excellent :) New chapters for some of my main stories should be up within the week, too, so there's that as well
Have a good one!