Sisters and sisters
(Quinn)
Good thing about Rachel: she not only loves the word "precisely" as well as she needs experience it. The flight arrived two minutes late and it was nice not need to wait so long. She was the first to exit at the domestic arrivals hall, pulling her median red suitcase. I met and gave her a little peck, despite my desire of make a film scene in front of everyone. Rachel was tired. She finished the tour and then headed to the airport even before dawn. She only managed to doze a little on the plane. Pity that I wouldn't let her sleep so soon. On the way, while I was pretending to pay attention to the things about the tour, I only thought about what I would make to her as soon as we put our feet indoors. Boyish, I know, but I was addicted in Rachel Berry's love.
"Quinn..." Rachel tried to protest when I attacked her so close the door with kisses. "You... can... not ..." She tried to say between kisses.
"Wait? Absolutely not!" I was guiding her toward our room.
I've been a good girl all week: I studied, worked, did the household and tolerated Santana. I needed my reward. I was so on fire that if I hadn't at least had an orgasm before going to work, I was going be crazy. I played Rachel in bed and lost no time in take our pants and shoes off. It was pure sex, no room for niceties and foreplay. I focused my actions where I was more interested entitled to ride a bit on those beautiful thighs. Rachel had beautiful legs. She put inside me two fingers and then I was satisfied.
"You're crazy." Rachel said still panting.
"I couldn't wait to be with you"
"I'm not complaining of the bang, but you should wait me to close the curtain."
I looked at the large window of our room. They were closed because I wasn't crazy to leaving with it open when everyone is out. But the curtains were another story and they were open. Perhaps some neighbors overlooked our show, despite my doubts. The railings around the porch were closely spaced and we were in front of a relatively wide avenue. Furthermore, the glasses were slightly frosted. It was possible, but I didn't believe that someone outside could have seems us without binoculars or even if there was someone on duty watching us as Jeff in Rear Window.
"If anyone saw us, I'm sure it was quite a show." I started laughing and Rachel frowned.
"No worries about our intimacy?"
"Rach, we've done it in the theater's bathrooms and in the editing studio at NYU: there are most eminent places of sightings and arrests for indecent exposure. Do you really think I'll bother with a half-open curtain in my own home? Then, when I'm with you, nothing else matters."
"You're crazy, Quinn Fabray." She told me seriously and for a moment I was worried that maybe I had done something that has displeased her. "But you have my heart. I love you, silly."
I ran my hand through her hair and kissed Rachel softly, just enjoying our time. Despite wanting stay with her, I still had to work and it was lunchtime. I took a shower and ran to work only with an apple in my stomach, that why I had to stop at Omar's Hot Dog, near R&J office in the village devouring. Omar, the owner, prepared the best hot dog in town. I swear!
Aaron Smith was in town and my bosses had some meetings to talk about the film. That's why Roger and James pressed all permanent employees and we were all working like crazy to harmonize ourselves with the team that was being hired for the film. Gabriela had to deal with the bureaucracy and I had to help her with everything. We had to watch closely the film and the plays. ATU was a money machine, but "Songbook" was closing in a few weeks, which meant that Mike would be unemployed. Of course I warned my friend in time for him to look for projects and new jobs, although he made a good saving.
I did my part and James Golvi seemed satisfied with the projections I did. As the meeting progressed and subjects that interested me weren't placed on the agenda, my patience dwindled. I couldn't help on start to shake a leg.
"You did a good job, as always, Fabray." Gabriela found me in the corner of the cafe, which was a sort of canopy in a reserved corner office.
"Thank you." I forced a smile. "Gaby, I know you said you'd give me an answer but..."
"About help you to integrate the film photography staff? Quinn, you know that Aaron comes with complete package." It meant that each director worked with art and photography directors of preference, and those with reliable people. What I wanted was a chance to be in the staff doing anything, I didn't care. It was a chance to be in a professional production.
"There's not a chance of getting a low function?"
"You'll have to talk to Frank Mirror, which is the gaffer."
"I know..."
"They will be meeting during the whole week, if you get a spot on his team, I swear I will allow you to work in the film during the shots under Roger blessing."
"Really?"
"Really!" She gave two taps on my shoulder. "I know cinema is you real thing, so it's your chance, girl."
I couldn't resist and hugged Gabriela. Being part of a production was a great chance and opportunity. I could hardly wait to tell Rachel.
"Is there anything else to do today?" I asked.
"We already fulfill the agenda today."
"So can I go home? Rachel is here." Gabriela smiled.
"I heard the cast was still at the airport waiting the flight."
"Rachel managed to get a flight early."
"Ok… go home, Fabray. Go enjoy your girlfriend. You delivered a beautiful job here today."
"Thank you!" It was great working with Gabriela. She was my supervisor, but she didn't abuse power and always made a point to recognize when I was doing a good job.
I took the subway and went home, this time to spend the rest of the day with Rachel. I found her at the door of our room with her hair stuck awkwardly, wearing old shorts and one of my NYU T-shirt. She was sitting on the floor separating dirty clothes from the clean ones to the laundry. Call me blind, sick, or whatever, but for me, Rachel was super sexy that time.
"Quinn..." it was all she could say before I grabbed her right there on the floor between the pile of dirty clothes and clean ones.
Rachel gave me an orgasm that blew my brain right there on the floor between the pile of dirty clothes. I didn't know if it was a recurring ability to singers, but Rachel Berry-Lopez had a particularly talented tongue. I think I even passed away for a few minutes. Since we started to sleep together in the same room, our sex life increased and got much better. We learned some tricks meanwhile explored new positions (thanks for some instructive porn movies for lesbians) and I bought some toys in an on-line sex shop. I introduced Rachel to my old pink dildo "Lady Barbra" and, on the other day, I kind of took Rachel's virginity again with my "little friend": it was how I called my new and first strap-on.
I must to say that was a magic day that happened a week before ATU's cast went on tour in California. Rachel and I talked a lot about it. She was afraid that it would hurt, but we played first with Lady Barbra in a way to make Rachel's being comfortable with the new dimensions. When she said she was ready, well, I wore the little friend and fucked her good. Still, the toys were just a complement for fun, a party. Not a regular thing. Nothing was better than our simple and pure lovemaking without others stuffs but our own body.
While later, I heard keys in the door. Without nothing more to do, I stretched my leg and pushed the bedroom door. It was when I saw Rachel got tense. She got up and went to our bathroom to put on a robe. She looked so happy a minute ago, I couldn't understand the sudden change in mood.
"What?" I got up to the floor and dressed with my NYU T-shirt that Rachel's was wearing before.
"Santana came home."
"So what?"
"And then I have bad news... from Brittany."
Rachel told me everything, whispering. I didn't understand why it took so much to Rachel tell me about the latest Greek tragedy. On the other hand, I was grateful that she had expected or it would have ruined our festivities. We take a quick shower and I confess that I was afraid to face Santana.
We found her sitting at the kitchen counter wearing glasses (she started using them for reading), concentrated on the computer screen. She had a desk in the room, but sometimes she liked to study on the kitchen counter, where we had our meals. I think it was her favorite corner at home as well as I realized that Rachel liked to sit on the side of the couch farthest from the window and she would muttered if someone occupied the place.
"B-!" She muttered. "That idiot gave me a B-. My final grad is 'B' without a chance to recover!"
"Good to see you too, Santana!" Rachel kissed her sister's head while I went to the kitchen to prepare some snacks for the three of us.
"B as final grade doesn't seem bad." I gave my opinion. It was a decent grade for a complicated class. I couldn't even read one of her books.
"It was that my chance of getting the monitoring that I really wanted. But with that grade, it will be impossible."
"But isn't that class whose teacher was a complete idiot?" I replied.
"An idiot who is one of Microsoft's consultant and get some millions for this job." Santana muttered. "But let's talk about good things. How was the tour in LA?" I heard the two talking as I took the bread, jams and cookies.
"Do you want to know how it was in LA or who I met there?" Rachel teased. She walked into the kitchen and helped me pick up juice and cups.
"You know very well what I want!" Santana seemed impatient.
Rachel and I exchanged glances. It was the moment of truth, the bursting of the pump. I confess I was scared.
"Shut down the computer so we can make our meal?" I complained to hide my nervousness and Santana grimaced at me. Then she looked to her sister.
"I talked to her, but honestly Santy, it would be best if you call her."
"But I called! She didn't answer my calls or my messages for more than a week. Of course she has a reason and if you were with her, it can't be so serious. Or she would also avoid you, right?"
I've never thought I'd admit it, but Santana was blinded by love and even considering that it came from one of the most confident people I knew, it was scary. Did I also was so whipped for Rachel? I thought for a moment while organizing our dinner: if Rachel told me she was pregnant as a result of casual hookup, I would die of anger and disgust. Still, it's different: Rachel and I were in a steady relationship for almost two years, while Santana and Brittany fucked during a weekend three months ago and Santana voluntarily placed on standby. Obviously, Brittany didn't think the same way.
"There are things that aren't up to me to say." Rachel glanced her sister.
"What do you mean?" Santana was getting nervous, I could feel it. "It isn't up to you to say, but apparently, your girlfriend is well aware. What the fuck is it, Rachel?"
"You know what?" I got my phone and gave it to Santana. "Call Brittany, say Rachel told you everything and get your answers."
"Quinn." Rachel protested.
"Is that so bad?" Santana hesitated.
"Just do it."
Santana grabbed my phone and went to her room. Suddenly, my hunger had passed, and judging by Rachel's actions, hers too. I looked at my juice and the sandwich as the conversation progressed. I was so busy during the entire day, catching Rachel at the airport, had sex twice, working. I should be hungry and, for sure, was exhausted, but I couldn't eat or even breathe such was my expectation. Rachel and I stared toward the Santana room. A pity that the sound proof system of the apartment worked reasonably well and we couldn't hear anything but a muffled murmur.
"Is she..." Rachel started walking back and forth in the room. "I didn't get nervous like that since ATU's premiere."
"Indeed." I smiled at the memory. "You were so tense that trembled at the thought that you could forget all the lines. Until I did that massage into your vagina."
"No time for this talk, Quinn."
"I can't change what happened." Rachel turned his face to signal that she would ignore me if I continued it. In fact, the memory didn't serve to relieve tension. "She'll survive, Rach. Don't worry so much."
"Yes, she will survive as we survived a lot in our lives. It is the process that worries me. I'm afraid that Santana might do something stupid."
"Your sister is well grown up and you have overcome worse things."
"Yeah... after daddy died, we lived almost six months of astral hell."
I wanted to make an upbeat speech, but it wasn't time. We seedlings and alert when we heard the door opened. Santana came to me and handed me back the phone with an ineligible expression.
"Britt is pregnant with her boss and the two will move in together. I need to get drunk."
Funereal silence. Rachel hurried to embrace her sister. It made me forget the discussion and I also ran to hug her. The pain must be immense. Santana got out of our arms and went to her room. I didn't know what was going to happen, but Rachel seemed to have perfect idea. She ran to the kitchen and took a bottle of wine. We always had one or two at home and we liked to drink a glass or two on special occasions. When Santana left the room again wearing a blouse and pick up the pot swapped in emergency cash, Rachel grabbed her arm and showed the bottle.
"You will get drunk, Santy. If you want something stronger to drink to get into an alcoholic coma, no problem, I will manage to buy one. You can take this bottle, go to the balcony and drinking alone if you don't want us around. That's no problem. But you won't leave this house today."
"I can go over you." I stayed on alert. If Santana might attack Rachel, I swear I would retaliate.
"But you won't because that's not what I want to do." Rachel was firm.
As much as Santana was sad, it was obvious she did not want a fight. She took the bottle from the hands of Rachel and drank alone in her room.
…
(Santana)
"Can you stop?"
Rachel was staring at me for half an hour and it made me nervous. That's ok if she wanted to play the careful sister role, and a couple of days ago, she went out with me to drink. Or I drank a lot and she brought me home. But she was driving me mad. I was tired to explain to her that I wouldn't kill myself or do stupid things because the love of my life was pregnant with a jerk. Worse, she chose to stay with him. Actually I would go to Los Angeles and give a punch in the face of that idiot who had sex with her without protection. Damn it! I wanted to punch everyone. A pity that I still had a full working rational side even with a huge and legitimate pain, and end of semester works to do.
Rachel helped me. She was like a mother over the week. Only she, as always, took it all very seriously and the way she watched me make my final report gave me chills. I just didn't throw her out of in my room because Quinn was about to arrive and I'd love to made her a bit more jealous on catching my sister sitting on my bed baby-sitting me. That would be fun.
"I was thinking..."
"Here comes trouble." I muttered and she did was offended. I rolled my eyes and sighed. "What were you thinking, Hobbit?"
"It's been a while since the last time we walk around town just to talk and drink some beer."
"It's raining." I pointed out the window. "And it's almost six o'clock, so it's not a good time to go walk, drink a beer and see some showcases."
"I didn't say it would be today, your fool."
"And do you want to spontaneously to walk around town with day and hour booked?" I started laughing. It wouldn't be unlikely coming from my sister who could plan to trips to the bathroom.
"Will you listen to me or not?"
"No!" I refocused on the computer screen. "Look, Ray, I really need to finish this report. It's my last college work before the summer holidays. I swear that today I won't empty any bottle. So, could you get off my back?"
Rachel groaned and I had to laugh a little. She got up from my bed and came to my desk. As my room was large and not picked up my books and spread around, as it did in the old apartment, Rachel told make some shelves so I could save a lot of college stuff properly: her words, not mine. But I think she did it to try to put her finger in decorating my space. My desk was my favorite mobile after my bed, of course. It was these simple black that looks like a small shelf with place to put the desktop (although used an ultrabook), with drawers next to my legs. It was comfortable. The downside is that sometimes I felt isolated and took things to study at the bench that divided the kitchen from the living room. Rachel didn't care, but Quinn always complained.
"You should change this photo." Rachel pointed to one of the two frames in the room. One was a picture of me with daddy. The other one was Brittany and I in cheerios uniforms.
"I like it." I said loading indifference.
Rachel didn't argue, which was great. Instead, she put her head on my shoulder to see what I was writing.
"That sounds boring." She muttered. "You write well, but it seems to be very boring."
"Do you swear that you have nothing else to do? Maybe a script to read, prepare for an audition or something?"
"Do you want to get rid of me so desperately?" She pretended to be offended.
"Actually, I do want! I must finish this work that really is boring, but it has to be done today!"
She stared at me seriously as if to make me laugh. She couldn't, and then grunted to finally left my room. It was a relief. I was finally able to concentrate on finishing the report to Professor Harris. Thinking about college helped a bit to forget Brittany and the pregnancy story. I wasn't mad because she was pregnant. Maybe a little, but the main reason was that she chose the guy over me. If I got pregnant and Brittany asked to take care of me, I would choose her. This wouldn't exclude the father of my kid's life: I would have opted to be with the love of my life. But Brittany didn't think the same. The reality was that she was pregnant and would end the tour with a dance company and then going to play house with Jim Belford. Holy shit.
I shook my head and tried to focus on my final report. It had to be a perfect job. Minutes later, as I was preparing to write the conclusion, Rachel opened the door again. I outlined to complain but I shushed myself when I saw that she was carrying a tray with a snack. I was really starving. Without saying a word, she put the food in the corner of my desk to not disturb me. It was a turkey sandwich, lettuce leaf (she never forgot the "green") and a bit of cream cheese. The orange juice was done on time. Rachel gave me a kiss on the head and left my room.
I was moved by these small actions of Rachel. Not always I said "thank you" to her, but I repeated it every day in my prayers for having such a good, even if somewhat annoying sister. Truth be told, I would be lost without her in my life.
…
(Quinn)
It was a hellish week with depressive Santana because of Brittany's pregnancy. But what did she want? I don't doubt the love between these two, but the distance and the type of life that each had, more likely to depart than unite them. No phone conversation in the world would prevent accidents like this. Santana honestly thought that Brittany would be in Los Angeles or traveling around the world waiting for her pure and chaste? This even happened in high school when these two lived in the same city, studied in the same school. Brittany kissed almost all McKinley students and had sex with a lot of boys. Brittany fucked a lot and seemed quite logical that she would hookup with other people in Los Angeles.
But an oversight happened. Now it had no other medicine than wait it born while thinking very carefully about the fate of this child. And it will be Brittany's decision and her dancer lover, not Santana, who thinks she was guilt and had obligations. Rachel? My girl built a wall around her sister and stood guard. Apparently, Santana had to be treated like a big child, with all patience and care, because she was suffering.
It was difficult to understand the relationship of these two. One hour they want kill themselves and the next one, they are in love. I don't know if it's the age difference or the creation or the distance itself, but me and my sister Frannie have very different relationship than Rachel and Santana's. Frances Greta Fabray, A.K.A Frannie, is three years older. We are created in molds to become the perfect American girls that would go to a great college only to drop everything to take care of the family so that we get married with an old money guy. We should be desired and popular girls, prom queens, athletics, understand the rules of the major sports, students who attend the Honor Roll, Presidents of relevant clubs to show all our good use of time. Speaking of time, this was too precious to be wasted on losers. And if we step out of line, Russell Fabray, my father had a paddle that reminded us all good principles and goals of family life.
Frannie followed the determinations and became the queen bitch. I particularly remember one night, a few weeks before her graduation on McKinley High. Frannie had been accepted at the University of Texas in Austin and I should inherit the position of McKinley High's queen bee. I walked into her room and talked respecting our master/apprentice relationship. Among her warnings there were things like: "Beware Santana Berry-Lopez. She's your biggest threat. Do whatever it takes to keep her forever beneath you"; "There are no good guys this time at McKinley, the least not for your age but that Hudson dork. He is on the football team and popular among the freshmen. You should start dating him this summer"; "Ignore not only the losers, but also the ordinaries ones. The cheerios are your now, so take advantage of that"; "It's better lose your virginity as soon as you can now that you reached the age. Look for the most experienced boys. They know how to do it and your first time won't sucks that much"; "In school is better to have allies, not friends."
The worst thing was that I actually heard my sister and tried to follow all her recommendations. I used the cheerios, Sue Sylvester and Brittany to control Santana; I avoided the losers until even when I joined the Glee Club; I dated Finn Hudson even thought I hated been with him; I lost my virginity for the man whore Noah Puckerman, and, the most important thing: I tried to destroy Rachel just because I wanted her so much. Yet, everything went wrong in a bizarre twisted of my fate: I got pregnant and lost my ideal boyfriend for the girl I secretly loved; my father throw me out of home and sold everything I couldn't put in my suitcase; I kind of liked to be popular and lost that too; Santana overcame me and the losers became my best friends.
One day, when I was reminding those conversations in Frannie's bedroom, I asked my girlfriend if Santana used to comment things or giving advice about school. She said they used to avoid the subject at home, but she told me about the only serious conversation they had when Rachel was sad because she wasn't making friends because of her peculiar diva attitude. Santana said to her: "whatever happens, keep your head up because you know you're better than everyone else."
I speak so little with Frannie. I even avoided her, especially after our last meeting in Lima. It was bad enough to have to tolerate the subtle comments about how I'm the black sheep of the family. Still, I missed her.
As for Frannie? She began interning for a good company in Huston, she was engaged to an old money guy whose family owns a network of small roadside hotels. Santana could explain better why, but it is a lucrative business. Frannie has good relations with my father and my rich stepmother I've never met. While Frannie had a secured future like my father wished, I was sweating a bit to have mine. But I was very happy living in New York and was at peace with my choices. All in all, the bad things were for the better. I just wished my sister and my mother would recognize it.
"Two pennies for your thoughts." Rachel hugged me from behind and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"Frannie sent a text saying she is coming to New York for business stuff and want to see me." I drove Rachel to sit on my lap, so I could bury my face in my girl's neck, inhaling her good accent.
"When she comes?"
"Tomorrow."
"How about you take her to see ATU and go out to dinner after that, I will request free tickets to the first session, and we can have a Sunday lunch. What do you think?"
"I'll talk to her and know what her plans are. But I like the idea."
…
I was eager to see Frannie. We would meet in front of the theater to enter together in the reserved chairs. I think I had seen ATU so many times that I started to understand the play as a kind of "Pretty Woman", ie, one of those films that you could easily watch 50 times and never get bored. I understood perfectly why ATU won so many fans, much screaming for Steve and Nick, and there were even the ships. Rachel had hers with Lucas, but there was a colorful part of fans who would love her to have a relationship with Sarah. If they knew…
"Good evening, Quinnie." Frannie surprised me. She was in very elegant black dress and high heels. Her platinum hair in an elegant chignon simply shined, I swear. I felt underdressed next to her, but my costumes were consistent to the other people who were watching the play.
"Frannie." I quickly hugged her. "You are beautiful."
"I am, right?" She said with the usual lack of modesty. "And you're not bad yourself. I swear I would have to look for a new hippie or I'd see you in jeans, chewing gum and holding a keychain Rainbow."
"I am glad that you don't cling to stereotypes." I raised an eyebrow with my own irony. "We're just in time. Shall we?"
It was another nice session night. Rachel was great, as always. A pity that nobody from ATU was nominated for a Tony in 2014. Considered an injustice, especially no indication supporting actress for Rachel. Not this time, but that didn't make me feel less pride. ATU was a popular and beloved play. I took my sister to the dressing rooms but she wasn't impressed despite all Rachel's good will in introducing her castmates and tell good backstage trivia. Finally, we headed for dinner while Rachel focused for the second session of the day.
"Your little annoying girlfriend is a good hostess." Frannie commented when we were already sitting at the table at Shun Lee Palace, a expensive Chinese restaurant in Midtown. "The play is kinda jovial, but she did sing well."
"I'm living with this little annoying girlfriend, and, one day, I will marry her. Have more respect, please."
"Oh! That's why you are wearing this platinum wedding ring? So childish, sis."
"It's silver, actually."
"All right, Quinnie. What I keep wondering... if you are really gay as you said, why don't you chose the other Berry-Lopez? At least Santana is sexy and easy, so you could have play without this stupid commitment idea. Rachel is annoying... how can you stand all that small talk actress? The jokes with makeup spared me." I counted to 10 and breathed three times.
"Rachel is super-sexy, Fran, and very smart. And Santana isn't easy or a whore to use and discard." I gobbled up my pork chop suey.
"Hooray, little Lucy still has some spunk."
"Do you really want wasting our time teasing me?"
"I'm not here for this!"
"Great! So let's enjoy the meal, ok?"
"Dad called me the other day." And I thought the conversation could be civilized enough to not cause me indigestion. I celebrated too soon. "He wants to make a rapprochement if you accept his proposition for you, but it would be a loss of time because you clearly aren't interested."
"What proposal?"
"He will pay your college and give you a small allowance if you let go this nonsense of filmmaking and forget this gay relationship."
"Well... I'm not interested."
"I figured. You seem too comfortable with this free life." I was getting impatient and annoyed.
"Fran. I have a full scholarship at NYU, which is one of the most renowned universities in the world. I am studying something I love, I have a job where I can have a possibility to work with it. And yet I gain some extra money with my photography. I live in a wonderful apartment in a good area of town, along with the woman I love and her sister that I don't love so much, but Santana at least helps more than hinders. I have good friends and contacts and opportunities. Why I'd leave it all for a proposal for practically live in prison and be terribly unhappy?"
"Who listens to you talking this way can think your life is perfect."
"It may be not for you, but it works for me. Sometimes I wish that you could be much less Fabray and more my sister!" I back to focus on my meal.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Because I'm so jealous of what Rachel and Santana's have. Those two fight almost every day, but when one needs, the other is always present to help. It's something unconditional and natural. They are sisters and best friends that true love each other. And what we have Fran? Blood? Surname? Do you think that's enough?" I was controlling myself to keep the volume of my voice in a reasonable tone. "I know Rachel loves me and Santana can be a good friend when she wants, but sometimes I feel left out and wanted to talk things with my mom or even with you. But I can't because all you would do is criticize me."
"And what do you want from me?"
"Just accept me as who I am. No ironies and no jokes. Do you think it's that hard?"
"I can accept your gay side, Quinnie, or that you and to graduate in cinema and live with crazies. I just don't agree. I think you can do much better."
"It's a start." I sighed and took a sip of my wine. "Could you come for lunch on Sunday at my place?"
"In your house? That one you share with the Berry-Lopezes?"
"Yes, that very one."
"And they agreed with this invite? I know that Santana hates me because I made her life quite difficult in her freshman year on McKinley High. And your little girlfriend isn't my fan either."
"It was Rachel's idea. She does love me, you know? And I don't think Santana will stay for the lunch. Maybe she will to Johnny's or Mike's or maybe to one of her college friend's place."
"All right."
"All right?" My heart beat faster.
"Well, it would be important to you, correct?"
"Immensely."
"Then I will appear to see firsthand that your new lifestyle."
"Deal."
…
Frannie did have a past with the Berry-Lopezes. She was a senior when we all were freshmen in McKinley High. Although she ignored Rachel most of the time that year, Santana didn't escape from Frannie's radar. Santana had everything Sue Sylvester wanted for a captain of the cheerios: decent dancer, attitude, confidence, sharp tongue, still she could follow otrders. But Frannie thought the place should be her inheritance to me, so she tormented Santana and taught me how to control her using Brittany as bait, while my sister kind of manipulated Sue with sponsors issues since my father was one of them as well the families part of my church community.
But the cruelest act against Santana was when Frannie convinced her that she should be the date of a particular football player: the one who wasn't famous to tread the girls gently. What I know was that Santana lost her virginity with this guy during a party and I heard some time later that he didn't care if that was her first time. I only could imagine her pain. Santana never openly talked about it, and I was sure that Puck and Brittany were important to her feel comfortable with herself again, sexually speaking.
As for Rachel, Frannie ignored her. My girlfriend was always a little annoying diva that nobody really paid attention. I always thought she was kind of cute and funny but I didn't have the guts to befriend her since she was the 'fags' daughter'. One day, I made a mistake to talk to my sister what I thought about Rachel. Not the 'I in love part' because I didn't know that yet. Frannie convinced me that a friendship with Rachel could ruin me and made me cut all the possible approach that could be, starting the process making me throw a slushie on her face. That's how that terrible tradition in McKinley High started. I've never told Rachel whose was the actual idea of the slushie.
So, I was nervous. The last time Frannie and Rachel met, last year, my sister has unraveled the small talk and offensive insinuations that Rachel couldn't take it, responding with less subtlety. This peace treaty mattered much to me and I didn't measure efforts to make the best lunch I could. I didn't go to church and Rachel to the synagogue that day, so we could leave the house shining. Our place used to be clean and tidy, but I wanted to impress. Rachel cleaned the war zone that was her sister's room, took off her clothes hanging in the bathroom, leave everything smelling good. I vacuumed the whole house, took dust from furniture, packed all the other rooms, threw out the garbage. Then we stuck in the kitchen to prepare a simple and tasty meal. Rachel made salad and even dessert gelatin with fruit. I prepared the "Fabray's pasta", which was one of the few things I used to make with Frannie for fun... like sisters.
Santana came from the synagogue. She had declared hatred to Frannie, but promised to behave. When my sister arrived promptly at one in the afternoon, I was proud to show my house. I think it was a pleasant surprise for her to see that I lived in good neighborhood and a good building, that my house was nice and beautiful. When we serve the meal, Rachel tried to be polite and restrained, passing up even the little ironies and critical Frannie made again and again.
"Hello, Frannie Fabray." Santana got out of her room to serve herself the food.
"Santana. Long time no see." My sister answered.
"Yeah. Thank God. And I would happily stay some more years without see your face. You are the worst person I've ever met, worst than your homophobic father, and I still hate you." We remain in silence while Santana said in a very controlled way.
"That's all?" Frannie said with her low cynical voice.
"Yeah, that's all. Rachel and Quinn, I will be in my room if you need me. And Frannie, please, try not to infect much my place and I really am sure you will go to hell!"
Santana left the kitchen with her plate in hand and nobody commented what happened. Frannie helped with the dishes and Santana stayed in her room watching something in her computer since Our TV was in the living room, and Rachel had to take a shower and get ready to go to the theater, since the Sunday session was earlier.
"So? What's the verdict?" I asked my sister.
"They are always like that?"
"It depends on the situation. Usually our meals are noisier, Rachel and Santana talk a lot of things at the same time and it is gets out of control when Mike and Johnny spend some time with us. I must admit it's kind of funny."
Rachel appeared in the kitchen. She said goodbye to Frannie and gave me a satisfying kiss on my mouth.
"Merde!" I said.
"As Santana says: I will kick some ass. See you later, lion." And then she left.
Frannie raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Lion?"
"She's a Lady." I declined to give further explanation or the discussion would become dirtier and I was sure my sister wouldn't like to hear such explanations. "So… what do you think?"
"You are doing good, sis. I'm surprised. I will tell dad you are good. I'm not sure how he will react, but I will tell the truth: you don't need us."
"You're right: I don't need any of you, Frannie. Still, I would like to have your friendship. You're family."
"Ok… Let's try to keep in touch more this time."
"Deal."
I accompany my sister to the cab. It was a nice afternoon, even with Santana's controlled outflow. I was happy. It wasn't what Santana and Rachel had and I was likely never come to such intimacy and rapport with my sister, but something different happened: our interaction master/apprentice was broken by something better, though it was still strange, undefined. Santana left her room and went to the fridge to get water.
"So, the Queen was already gone. I'm surprised you didn't serve as rug to her."
"Fuck you, and thank you."
"For what?"
"For being yourself with more politeness."
"You're welcome… And Quinn…"
"What?"
"I do hate you sister, but I'm happy for you."
"I don't have with Frannie what you have with Rachel, but still…"
"There are sisters and sisters, right?"
"Yeah, I think so."