A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has continued to read and review. It's been a tough couple of weeks. I've been re-watching all my favorite episodes and song performances.

5 more minutes. She couldn't help but watch the clock all the time. God, she hated this job. She checked her phone for the 100th time, no messages from Finn either. Bad sign. She hoped rather than expected him to walk her home. If he didn't show, it probably meant he'd tanked.

Santana had spoken to Britt during her dinner break and got the more detailed version of how New Directions had won Regionals. Well, Brittany level of detailed anyway… she tended to remember really random things in lots of detail and leave out major stuff. While Santana was happy for Glee Club, she was thrilled that in only six short weeks Brittany would be coming to L.A. for Nationals. At least that was something to look forward to. That, and shooting CSI at the Santa Clarita Studios next week.

))))))

Santana knew it had worked out the moment she saw him. Finn was glowing. He bounded over and pulled her into a hug and swung her around and started placing sloppy kisses on her neck.

It was obvious, but she wanted him to tell her in his words, "Spill, Hudson!"

"I did what you said, and it worked!" Finn had his hands on her shoulders now, "You're so awesome!"

Santana got her coat and the baggy of now, cold, jam doughnut. Finn refused again.

"I think they must be planning more nudity for me," He said, halting the gesture with his hand.

He was so excited, "The director was so happy, we did three takes to be sure, but he said I nailed it!" Finn was giddy, "That's the best complement he's given me so far…"

He looked so happy.

"Earlier I thought they were going to fire me."

"I had no doubt you could pull it off," Santana said, accepting yet another hug.

"You know, L.A. has a Marriot," Finn didn't remotely segue into the next conversation, "I Googled it while I was between scenes, we could book it for this weekend if you can get someone to cover Saturday night for you."

Santana didn't want to go there, or be reminded of that earlier conversation. So, she just kind of nodded weakly, and hoped he wouldn't keep talking.

Finn had his arm around her as they walked, and she could feel his hand lazily rubbing her back as they strolled back to Mercedes' place. Santana could feel that pulse in her undies as she felt herself getting wet with anticipation. She wasn't taking 'no' for an answer tonight. And the closer they got to the door, the more she was sure Finn wasn't going to put up any resistance.

They were barely even inside when she turned and grabbed his brown suede jacket collar and pinned him against the door as it slammed shut. She accosted his mouth, and devoured him with her tongue, using her hands to pull his jacket down and off his shoulders. Finn was caught unaware, but quickly recovered and matched her intensity. His hands came down the side of her thighs to behind, pulling her up to straddle his hips. He walked them awkwardly over to the kitchen. Moments later, he was laying her down on the cold, marble countertop. She smirked wickedly, as Finn grinned, prying her thighs apart. She felt that tingle as his fingers gently brushed her sensitive skin. He reached under her dress, trying to pull her panties off.

Light suddenly flooded the room.

"Seriously!"

It was Mercedes.

Busted!

"We eat on that bench!" Their friend exclaimed.

They both froze, looking like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Santana was still on the countertop with her legs spread, still in those high leather boots, with Finn standing between with a tent poking up from his jeans.

"You two need to take your behinds into your room!" Mercedes laid down the law, "And keep the volume down!"

She made an exaggerated swoosh of her weave, "All this doesn't just happen," Mercedes also wiggled her butt with a bit of extra somethin' to punctuate her point, "I need my rest."

A+ for the sassiness.

Santana probably would have added a finger snap, or a head tilt on the last word. But still, nice!

Mercedes was really blossoming now that she was out from under Rachel's shadow. It was a great transformation to witness. Finn brought her back to the present, he was looking down at her all guilty. Mercedes was gone and her door jamb clicked and they remained still for a long moment. And then, they both burst out laughing. She couldn't contain it. Santana couldn't suck enough air in, she was hysterical. And Finn had this "he he he" sound he did when he was embarrassed laughing.

All the stress that Santana had been feeling about how she'd wrecked the best thing to happen to her since Brittany, seemed to dissipate. And then wrecked it again, earlier. The best guy in the world was pouring his heart out to her and she couldn't even manage to say something nice in return. Santana initiated the move by hopping down from the kitchen counter and taking Finn's hand and leading him over her shoulder into her room.

He was still in his flannel shirt, and blue 'Dad' jeans.

I really need to take him shopping now that he can afford it.

He's such a dork! She smiled inwardly, but he's my dork.

She wanted him naked. Santana ripped his shirt open, a button may have gone flying. And then she was relieving him of his pants. Finn peeled off those tighty whities revealing his semi. Santana stared mischievously at his package, because on some level she wanted him to be more comfortable and less inhibited about sex. The Finn Hudson that felt the need to shower in a shirt, wasn't the guy who could have pulled off that sexy bathroom scene today on Stage 31.

She pushed him back on her black duvet cover, with the black satin pillows. She stood at the foot of the bed, with him watching on, as she made a show of disrobing. He was licking his lips as she slowly unzipped her boots, and unpinned her hair, and unfastened that red waitress uniform. She opened the dress out and let it fall off her shoulders standing before him. She was wearing a matching lacy lavender bra and panties today, and Finn was gazing on intently, like he was hungry for her.

Santana leaned over and resumed kissing his mouth, and allowed her hands to trail down his chest, tickling him, exciting him. But it was Finn who pulled her in tight, getting her to kneel above him on the bed, as he held the back of her thighs.

"After that talk earlier," Finn looked mischievous, "it got me thinking about what I wanted to do when I saw you…"

His face was practically in her lace-covered cleavage, gripping her waist. Santana was impressed he was asserting himself and decided to see where this was going. She was curious as to what request he might be about to make though, because Finn wasn't entirely sure what he really liked yet, he hadn't tried a lot of stuff. But instead of telling her what he wanted, Finn's hands gently squeezed her breasts, and his mouth kissed its way down her tummy, which felt nice. He began to lean back, until he was lying flat on the bed, near her pillows with Santana kneeling over him at his waist. She leaned forward so she could cover him with her body and kiss his mouth again, but Finn had other plans. He encouraged her to stay upright by holding her with his hands. Interesting. He pulled her thighs up nearer to his face. She was kneeling just above his mouth.

Is he really going to do that!? Santana got even more excited.

Finn kissed her lacey panties, and let his tongue moisten the crotch, while he put his arm around both of her thighs and dragged her even closer. Finn smiled up at her, before most of his head disappeared underneath. He pulled the panties to one side, and then she felt his gentle kisses on her most sensitive fold.

He'd gotten really good at this now. Finn was curious enough and comfortable enough that he'd try different ways. She encouraged him to move up more, so she could steady herself on the headboard, and lean forward more. Tonight, he was gentle and was making little flicking motions with his tongue, up and down right on the underside of her clit.

Fuck, YES!

And his touch was featherlight on the inside of her thighs, circling towards her vajayjay. Santana closed her eyes and let her head fall back and tried to just focus on how amazing this felt.

"You taste so good," He murmured right into her cooch.

He took her clit gently between his lips, sucking and releasing it long enough to feel a sting of cold, only to mouth her again, and twirl the tip of his tongue ever so lightly over her engorged nub. As Santana felt herself building towards crescendo, she had to resist the urge to thrust right into his face. Finn held her steady. He just kept hitting the spot, and she felt herself jerk with that electricity more and more as she lost control. He looked up at her, with so much love in his eyes. And she couldn't help but stare back. She doubted her expression matched his though.

She felt his hot breath and slippery tongue touch her just right again. The sensation of being achingly unable to hold any more pleasure inside until eruption overcame her. Santana spasmed, as she cried out and doubled over. She felt so content and so tired after that, sliding to lie over him bringing them face to face. She smiled, slyly, feeling like the Cheshire Cat, and a little light headed. Finn was eager to roll her onto her back and lick up her release while she was still catching her breath.

Santana was too exhausted to do anything. She loved feeling so tired from having such an incredible moment of ecstasy, that her mind was blank, everything that sucked or stressed her out was just gone for a moment. No more mean voice in her head, just peace. Serenity. She stared blankly at the ceiling. She felt little aftershocks as his mouth cleaned her off.

It suddenly dawned on Santana, that Finn had spent his free moments today thinking on how he was going to get her off, not what he wanted her to do for him. And he wasn't intimidated or feeling too emasculated to try face sitting.

Best. Guy. Ever!

Finn spoke, "I'm sorry about earlier."

She felt tense at the mention of it. Santana wasn't sure why he wasn't still pissed. She'd just been so relieved that he'd seemed to let it go.

"I'm always telling you I need to go slower… with this stuff," Finn explained, "but I wasn't listening, earlier you were trying to say you weren't ready, for that stuff."

Oh thank God! She was so worried he'd want her to say it back to him… like now.

Finn kept saying, by way of apology, "I should have heard you."

She shifted to lie flat on top of him, bringing her face into to his and hugging him to her body. She kissed him with deep feeling behind every motion. Saying what she didn't have words to express. She cupped his cheeks with her hands, gliding her fingertips across his skin. Finn liked this, even if he wasn't totally conscious of it, her light touch all over. She then used more force to massage his scalp, scrunching his hair in handfuls. She could see him closing his eyes to concentrate on the sensations.

Santana was still deciding what she was going to do to reward her handsome, sweet beau.

One of the things she really liked about Finn was that he didn't just expect to be on top, or expect that sex always meant putting his dick in her, or think it was all about his pleasure. Puck had some skills but they were all geared around popping his cork. He couldn't have cared less if she'd enjoyed herself.

And it was different to being with Britt. The curve of a woman's body, the smoothness, sweet lady kisses, it wasn't the same. But it was still nice. Santana liked teaching Finn different ways, because he'd done little more than missionary before they'd started dating. Finn liked it when she performed oral, but he preferred to be inside her poon. She pulled him up so they were sitting, facing each other.

"Cross your legs," She ordered.

Finn pulled a face, but he did it, "This is a little… grade school."

"Trust me, you didn't do this in elementary," Santana flashed her brows, artfully, pulling her panties entirely off since they were soaked through.

Finn chuckled at that, and then he stopped as if a thought occurred to him. He opened his mouth to say something then retreated.

She reached out and held his schlong in her hand. He was uncircumcised, and so much more sensitive to her touch than she was used to. Holding her 'okay' position, she slowly glided her fingers down his shaft.

"How… how old were you… the first time?" Finn found his voice enough to ask his burning question.

Why does he always want to talk during!

Santana ignored him, while continuing to ring him all the way up and down. Maybe she could aim to make him forget his question.

"I'm just curious," Finn stammered, "You know all about my first time."

Her hand focused on his head while holding him firm at his stem. She barely needed to touch him first, he was rock hard. She got the condom off the night stand and rolled it on to him and used extra water-based lube to get him nice and frictionless. Then Santana positioned herself in Finn's lap, holding his shoulders so their chests were right up against each other as she eased her punani onto his cock. She did it slowly, pushing up to give herself respite before going again. Once she was comfy, she crossing her own legs behind his back. As far as sex involving guys went, Santana liked this position. It put her in control, and it was a gentle position. A guy couldn't slam into you from here. Santana used her thighs to decide how deep she took him into her, and she could pull him closer, and they could hug and kiss while they were moving as one. It was a very intimate position because you were so close and facing each other. It had freaked her out when she'd tried it with Matt as a sophomore. He'd been another nice guy who'd really liked her. And of course, Finn was happy that they could stare into each other's eyes during.

Finn reached around her back and unclasped her bra. He was still so excited just by the sight of her boobs. From here she had the choice of bouncing or rocking. She preferred rocking in slow circles, and Finn was too in awe of everything and went with it. It felt best when they were almost in sync, but not quite, like when she'd move her hips forward, and he'd wait until he felt her contact, and then make that contact back. She could hear Finn gasping as he felt himself entering her, sliding deeper inside.

"You're so beautiful," He whispered in a rare moment his lips were free of hers.

As Santana felt her orgasm building deep within, she began to lean back, increasing the pressure of his erection against her g spot.

Finn didn't ask her if she was 'okay' every few minutes, every single time anymore. She knew him better now, his anxiety around sex, his concerns about her comfort. He'd replaced it with asking her 'do you like this', when he changed motions. Because his primary concern was always pleasing her.

Finn was gritting his teeth now, and his brows would draw together, and his eyes narrowed. But he kept pace with her. As he got nearer his mouth would open every so often, so he could gasp. She kept her grinding smooth, so they had maximum contact.

Finn was trying so hard now, his head fell back a little as his face screwed up like he was about to sneeze. Finn Hudson for 'I'm about to cum'.

She squeezed her body tight around him, and deepened her motions, making more forceful thrusts now. Finn opened his eyes, long enough to clutch her face and stare at her right as his blew his load. The way his veins stick out on his neck right as he goes is so cute.

Get a grip, Girl!

He collapsed forward against her.

"You… astound… me…" He heaved into her ear.

She didn't know what to say so she just hugged him to her. Stay.

They both flopped onto their sides on the bed, still facing each other, smiling. Finn liked to gaze into her eyes afterwards too, while he was basking in his afterglow. Tonight, he reached out to run his hand through her hair and trace her cheek.

Dogs actually stare into their owner's eyes as a way of causing bonded feelings. They're smart little fuckers. You think you're the boss, and you decide they are going to sleep outside in a kennel. Famous last words. A couple of months later, they're barely even toilet-trained and they've already weaseled their way into your bed. It's Rover's pillow now! And then you try and kick them out and they cry and melt your icy heart with their puppy dog eyes. Like Finn Fucking Hudson, attaching himself to you, with his 'are you okay's' and his 'Cyndi Lauper's' and his 'you're beautiful'. And that's how you end up realizing that you've gotten so used to them, that you can't sleep unless the little fucker is pressed up next to you, keeping you warm.

Or you think their ridiculous-looking jizz face is somehow cute.

His voice broke her from her thoughts, "I still think we should have a fancy night out though, for our birthdays," He was intently checking her reaction as he delivered his words.

Santana felt herself tense up. Shit!

He squeezed her belly, "No pressure."

But once something like that was out there… you can't really tuck it back away.

"I don't know…" She just wished they could rewind and press stop.

"Santana," Finn said, getting right up close to her face, with his big puppy dog eyes, "I just want to take my girlfriend out for a nice night because I'm happy and I want to celebrate."

"Fine," She relented. Fuck, aren't I supposed to be happy a guy wants to do this shit? But she just felt nervous. "But can we make it after I shoot CSI. I think I'll be able to relax better if it's after."

Finn was so happy, "Sure," He said kissing the back of her hand, like she was some posh English Lady in olden times.

Why are you so good to me?

He rolled back on top of her now and was hugging her. Before his hands started to roam her body as if preparing her for more.

You definitely can't go again this soon.

"It occurs to me," He did his devious half smirk, "I didn't finish you off."

You noticed…

But Finn was constantly subverting her expectations. He got up and opened her wardrobe and rummaged around on the top shelf and pulled out the very non-descript black plastic bag Santana kept her vibrator in.

Finn knows what that is?

It was her Hitachi Magic Wand. The first time Finn had laid eyes on it while she was pulling out a pack of condoms from her bedside table drawer, where she kept all her sexy goodies. Santana had shrugged and said it was a foot massager and he'd nodded and said no more. And then she'd hidden it way better after that to spare herself further embarrassment.

"Umm, have you been snooping through my stuff?" She said, feeling pissed off, "because not cool."

"More like… stumbled across while cohabitating," He grinned boyishly. "Lie back," He commanded.

Santana obliged, feeling the anticipation build in the pit of her tummy, "I take it you figured out it's not a foot massager."

"I completely believed you," Finn admitted, looking amused, "I looked for how to use it on the internet, because I intended to give you a foot massage…" Finn just shook his head, laughing at his naivety, "and my research lead me to realize it's used to massage… something much more exciting than feet."

And then they both started laughing. It was a completely awkward thing to be talking about, but somehow it was okay.

But before Santana's chest was through heaving, Finn's mouth was covering hers, and he was holding her waist and lying over her, and kissing and touching. He further impressed her by not jumping the gun and simply holding toy to clit. He remembered that foreplay was still required.

She happily spread her legs for him. Now he was turning it on, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. Clearly, genuinely curious.

"Lube," She reminded him without being too demanding about it.

"Oh," He rectified that situation.

He kneeled between her spread legs, getting real up close and personal with her flaming lips and gently touched the wand to her welcome mat.

She loved that familiar buzzing on her buzzer.

He then began to move it up and down, too quickly while pressing too hard. Santana reached her hand down to guide his hand on the wand. Just the slightest of movement, with a light touch on her clit. Finn was watching her, fascinated at how her body was reacting. Santana laid back and then tried to just focus on how amazing it felt.

Finn started chuckling again, "I thought the pulsating head thing was supposed to go inside."

She raised her eyebrows, "It's pretty big."

"Yeah, I found a video online," Finn was blushing like a nun.

"X-rated research," Santana replied, coyly, motioning a hand job in the air, "for the sake of science."

He giggled like a little girl scout, "It was!"

Before long that constant vibration on her most concentrated fold of nerve endings was too much for her. Santana tried to control her breathing among other things. She was gasping, and quaking, and she felt everything struggling to hold on, to make it last longer. And then she couldn't speak anymore. Finn was rubbing her tits with his free hand, and gazing on her, full of love.

"Do you like this?"

She nodded, getting him to keep it right where it was. Like the calm before the storm, Santana laid completely still as the feelings burst forth between her legs as she experienced major sensory meltdown. Her whole body snapped together, her legs, her chest flailing, looking like a scene from The Exorcist. Her legs closed and continued to jerk, and Finn held the wand more or less steady. But she was too sensitive by now and had to push his hand away.

"What?"

Santana told him, "Take it as a complement,"

"How so?"

"You've never…?"

"What?"
"When a woman has a really good… O," Santana felt embarrassed, and that just wasn't her, she wasn't ashamed of sex, "well, we get kind of sensitive down there, and can't take anymore."
"Seriously?"

"You didn't know that?"

His face said no, so she didn't wait for the verbal answer.

Santana reached her hand out to graze Finn's lips with her fingertips. He reacted as if surprised, but also happy. She didn't often do things like this. Finn took the opportunity to hold her hand, and interlink their fingers, and then kissed the back of her hand. And then he laid down next to her again, he got under the duvet now, wanting her to cuddle up next to him, with her back pressed up against his front. And then came his standard protective arm around her. But she found she didn't mind it anymore. It was kind of nice.

Maybe because she couldn't see his face, it was easier. She took a deep breath before finally answering his question, "13, and my brother's college friend."

"13!" Finn exclaimed, "Wait, a college guy, isn't that like… illegal?"

She rolled her eyes, "Are you the sex police?"

Finn kept wanting more, "Did you like… love him and shit?"

Santana scoffed, "No." You know I'm gay right. Then again, I am seeing you. But you have a vagina, I'm sure of it, so it all works out in the wash.

Truth be told he was hot and drove a motorbike and would let his stubble get too long, and he had tatts and always smelled like cigarettes. In other words, to her he was basically Danny Zuko from Grease, the epitome of cool to her barely teenage, hormone ravaged body. And she'd been drunk at the party her brother Carlito had thrown last minute, when Mom had had to take Abuela to hospital. Dan had grind danced with her, that had turned into making out, that quickly turned into him leading her into the lounge room to grope on the couch. And before she knew it, her dress was up and her pants were down, and he wasn't terribly gentle and it really kind of hurt. He did seem to get that it was her first time. She bled on that couch, and tried to clean off the stain later, with limited success. Dan only wanted a one and done scenario and didn't give her his number. He called her a 'nice girl', which she didn't think he meant as a complement. And that was it. But Santana didn't say such things out loud. She didn't give people ammo to use against her.

"It wasn't very nice," She admitted, "I'd been drinking, and it kind of hurt."

"Umm, that sounds like he took advantage…"

She huffed, conveying she was touchy about it. Maybe Finn did have a point.

Finn changed tact, "Why him?"

She shrugged, "He was older, and hot in a dangerous sort of way... he drove a motorbike, which I thought made him very cool."

"What did your brother think?"

Santana surppressed her laughter, "I didn't tell him."

"But… it was his friend?"

"So?"

"Isn't that potentially like… really awkward."

"He wasn't the kind of friend that came over all the time, he was just some friend of Carlito's," Santana said, trying to convey how not a big deal it was. "I don't think they're still friends now."

"Did you regret it?"

Santana shrugged, "The best advice an ex-girlfriend of Angel's once told me; 'the first time is gonna suck, sorry girl, just try to find a nice one'"

"Was he nice?"

"No." Finn's prying was really starting to piss her off, "We aren't all like Berry, waiting until we're in love for 3 years before delicately laying back while we think of England as he's finally allowed to unlock our chastity belt."

"Hey, come on, no bagging on Rachel."

"Then stop judging all my choices," She snapped.

"Truce," Finn whispered as he munched on her ear. "What was his name?"

"Dan."

"Dan what?"

"I don't know."

Finn was silent to that. His unspoken judgement hung in the space between them,

"Go ahead, call me a slut. I fucking dare you!"

But he didn't, he kissed her cheek, "Thank you… for sharing."

He snuggled into her back, pulling her closer. She calmed a bit. It got her back to thinking about their first time together.

After a lengthy period of no talking Santana said, "There are no fireworks, you know."

Finn was silent a while, clearly contemplating her words carefully.

"That's what I wanted you to understand, when we did it the first time," Santana explained.

He countered, "There can be."

Santana resisted the urge to snark.

"We barely knew each other, so of course it didn't feel right," Finn responded, "but… my first time with Rachel… it was special, not because either of us were any good at it, but because we really loved each other."

Hearing him say it was better with Rachel just made Santana feel like shit. How Finn had made her feel after that first time when he'd called it meaningless, and acted ashamed, clearly wanting her to pretend it never happened. She'd played along of course, because she was too proud to admit he'd hurt her feelings. But fuck it had made her mad.

"It feels really good now," He whispered.

And then he reached out to tickle her belly as he began to kiss her ear. It was hard not to smile at that.

"What about the first time you and Brittany did it?" He asked, "Did that feel different?"

It had actually. And she didn't need to be drunk, or getting something else out of it. And she felt so genuinely excited. At the time, Santana had dismissed how heightened the experience was, chalking it up to her fears of being caught because what they were doing was so forbidden.

But kissing Britt, touching her soft skin, caressing her, the slow undressing the gentle touching… all of it. It was the first time it ever felt right.

"Yeah, it did," She finally answered his question.

"Do you miss her?"

"Do you miss Berry?" She fired back.

His voice warned her, "Do you want the honest answer?"

"No."

"Me neither."

And then she felt him poking her in the back with his chub.

"Why Mr Hudson!" Santana put on her best 1950s southern damsel voice, "Back again so soon?!"

Finn just smirked, as he moved to cover her, "Can't help myself."

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

While CSI wasn't a show Santana had watched much, she was aware of its TV cultural significance, the sort of 'Geeks rule the roost', 'science is awesome' messages of the show. She tended to like shows that were more character driven.

The CSI gig was all-night shoots, for three days, with her lying in a skimpy 'stripper' outfit outside for hours trying not to noticeably breathe while the main cast did a scene around her. Her character had been strangled and had their body left in a park. She was nearly six hours in hair and make-up while they painted her face extra pale and put bluish tinge around her mouth and used an eye drops trick to make the blood vessels in her eyes look broken and her pupils dilated. Santana hoped audiences would be able to see all these details.

The killer hadn't just dumped her. Her body had been staged like a porn star. In this case her hands were bound above her head, and the ligature was still around her neck, so she appeared to be kneeling with her legs spread. It was uncomfortable as fuck to hold the position for any length of time and she didn't know which camera, was on whom, when.

The main cast were very professional, they nailed every take. The director kept changing what he wanted, particularly with regard to the actions they were all doing as they delivered the dialogue, and they all coped with those sudden adjustments. No one seemed to want to talk to the background actor, but that didn't mean Santana couldn't pick up a few tips from observing them.

Santana had also managed to get herself an agent. Finn had already gotten one straight away after he was cast on The Bold and the Beautiful. But Finn's agent, Hal, who was an overweight and balding 30 year-old who wore a backwards baseball cap everywhere that was fooling no one and had some kind of undiagnosed condition that meant he had zero tact and no filter. Hal had made clear he wasn't interested in taking her on, though he told her she had 'great pins and jugs', what a charmer! He said she needed to get drama school behind her or something, because there just weren't a lot of roles for, and he waved his hand over her 'whatever the fuck race you are'.

ASS!

She'd met Eddie on the CSI set the first night. He seemed eager enough and gave her his card, saying he thought she 'had something'. She Googled him when she got home just to make sure he was legit and not just some guy with business cards that he used to pick up women he found attractive, because you never knew with this town. He said he might be able to wing her an audition for Brothers and Sisters, playing a maid, who would be alive, and deliver one line. Now I just need to get cast as the Taco Bell Chihuahua and I'll have all the Latina stereotypes covered!

Finn was having a big week himself. Spencer and Marisol were going to kiss in his latest episode, and he had wanted to practice stage kissing.

And what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn't help him? What a chore!

To make matters worse while she was shooting the dead porn star in a park scene, the director came over at one point and repositioned her himself, not happy with her original leg and arm placement. This dumpy, 50-something year-old man was prying her bare thighs further apart, while a whole crew watched on as if that was normal.

I'm not actually dead. You could have asked me to move!

And the brief 'flashback' to her murder was just her walking in a halter top and black leather miniskirt, slowing down to look for her keys and then getting grabbed from behind. It would probably only be about 10 seconds worth of screen time. Even just that part took two hours to film, and she hated wearing heels, and these ones were ridiculously high stilettos. Her feet were so sore, it was sweet relief when they finally went numb. Santana still screamed and thrashed like a banshee. She did her best to get her real adrenaline pumping.

She thought she did an okay job, but it wasn't going to be her big break or anything. She saw some of the main cast, who'd become household names from this show. But no one was that interested in talking to a nameless background actor. Santana was about to leave. Dawn was breaking, and her scenes were done, unless that needed to re-record any of her vocals. Her vocals. Which was just her screaming for literally 2 seconds.

Santana was just about to find out who needed to escort her off, when Jorja Fox strolled back towards her. She was thrilled that Jorja Fox had been one of the main cast involved in her crime scene. She was an openly lesbian actress, and Santana was hoping to ask her how she'd navigated that situation.

"Hi," Santana waved, "I'm dead stripper number two." She tried for humor, which appeared to work.

The actress' trademark gap-toothed smile lit up her dimple, "Your parents come up with that?" Jorja joked back.

"Yeah, they're big fans of the show, it's been going so long now, there's a whole generation of children of groupies old enough to get cast."

Jorja chuckled.

"I'm Santana Lopez, it's been an honor," She held out her hand, and the older woman shook it.

"How long have you been at this?"

"Not long, I only graduated high school last year."

The brunette's eyebrows raised, "You look older."

"That a good thing?"

"It definitely can be, you've probably got another 8 years you'll still be able to get cast as a high schooler though, knowing this business."

"Or twenty years if it's for Pretty Little Liars," Santana sniped.

Jorja laughed more openly at that, "So, true!"

"Do you mind, I've just got a quick question," Santana tried to work up the courage to ask, "I mean, you've been on some really big shows and…"

Jorja waited, politely for the clearly burning question on Santana's lips.

She took a deep breath, "… and you've never really hidden who you are and who you date…"

"Are you dealing with that yourself?" The CSI star asked.

Santana nodded, "I just don't want to only be able to get cast on 'The L Word' reboot, you know?"

"I hear you," Jorja said, "I was never really in the closet, but I wasn't shouting it from the rooftops either. I played about three openly gay roles early on, appeared on Ellen as a lesbian on the Ellen character's first time in a lesbian bar, which was a pivotal TV moment."

"Exactly," Santana stated, "but you got ER after that, and then the West Wing…"

Jorja sighed, "I don't think there's a perfect way to do it."

"And roles for gay, women of color…" Santana began to say, feeling even more dejected.

"My advice," Jorja announced, "Be good at what you do, be bold, and go after what you want," She looked right into Santana's eyes, "The worst anyone can say is 'no', and then you just keep trying until somebody says 'yes'."

Santana nodded.

Jorja's brown eyes lit up to recall it, "I mean, when I was starting out, I was told I wouldn't get cast because of my teeth, and my agent used to take me to get headshots with me smiling with my mouth closed."

Santana shook her head, agreeing that it was absurd. Like they aren't going to notice before they cast you.

"Fuck em! Not every part is meant for someone with perfect teeth," Jorja remained defiant, showing off the gap between her front teeth as she said it, "Real people exist, you know?"

"Thanks," Santana smiled, "It means a lot."

"No problem," The star smiled kindly, "Goodluck, Santana Lopez."

Santana was a little chuffed she'd remembered her name.

Because as much as things seemed to progress and Hollywood was seen as some bastion for gay people. There weren't many very famous gay women, unless they were well established before they came out or were acting in niche areas. And once they were out, they didn't get certain roles anymore. Far too often if you weren't a romantic prospect off camera for some reason suddenly you couldn't be one on camera. Santana just hated the idea that all these things she couldn't change about herself were the barriers keeping her out of jobs. It should be about how good you are! Frankly, it sucked that every script called for the leading woman to be single and the romantic prospect for the leading man all the time too.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Finn POV)))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn was going to need to raincheck their Marriott plans, again. But he hoped this time for a positive reason. Because the Jazz Quartet, Orfeu Negro, with one, Desmond Ortega Jr on the saxophone was about to be playing at the premier live jazz venue, Catalina Bar & Grill on West Sunset Boulevard. And he needed to find a way to get the measure of the man who was Santana's biological father.

A/N: Will try to keep going with weekly updates probably on Fridays