((A/N- Apathyempathy is invading my writing with angst. Seriously. I wrote this under the influence and was pretty sure I was gonna start tearing up at some point. Another story that came outta nowhere while I was trying to sleep. I know by now that if I don't write things while they're in my head, important details are lost. So here ya go. Day 2.))

Tonight was the night, thought Rachel. Tonight she was finally going to ask Santana Lopez out on a date and it was going to go exactly according to plan no matter what the answer was. If Santana said yes she would graciously thank her and proceed to phase two; if she said no, no matter how harshly, the little diva was determined to accept that answer just as gracefully and continue on with her head held high and maintain a perfectly amiable friendship.

She could do this. She WOULD do this.

She heard the door to their apartment unlock from where she was in the kitchen and was just about to call out to her roommate and friend when she heard giggling – from another woman. Her heart stopped for a moment, but she just firmed up her jaw and forced herself to turn around to look into the connected living room.

Santana was there; a tall, leggy blonde wrapped around her and clearly drunk. The ex-Cheerio looked just as drunk, and wasn't even attempting to keep her hands from going under the random's short, short skirt.

Rachel cleared her throat, forcing smile onto her lips and hoping for all she was worth that her roommate was too inebriated to notice the tightness. "Santana, hi… You… brought home a friend. And you've been drinking?"

The taller brunette laughed, eyes glassy with alcohol. She leaned into the blond, whispered something into her ear that made the woman flush all the way down to her chest and burst into more giggles, then swatted her ass and sent her towards Santana's bedroom before turning to shrug at her roommate, grinning widely. "Yyyeeaahh… I'mma gonna need ya ta like, go ta Kurt's or somethin' tanight. You cool with that, Chica?" She walked past Rachel, who was struggling to keep herself composed and absolutely not cry, to get a glass of water.

The diva turned around, taking a moment to take a steadying breath, and replied, "S-Santana, it's 12:30 in the morning… I couldn't- I couldn't possible go all the way over to Kurt's at this time. It's nearly a 45 minute bus ride…"

The other woman sighed heavily, as though Rachel was using some horribly lame and not perfectly reasonable excuse. "Come oooonnn, Rach. I dun wanna hear you lecturin' me in the morning over like, you not bein' able ta sleep or whatever. I'mma tryinz ta spare youz, here." The shorter girl glared.

"If you truly cared about 'sparing me' as you put it, you wouldn't bring women home so late like this when you know I'll be here in the first place. What happened to our late night movie marathon we were supposed to have tonight? It's why I made sure to get home early from rehearsal…"

Santana gulped her water down, setting the glass in the sink and strutting towards Rachel, making a sound somewhere between a snort and a chuckle. "I knoooow, I know. But like, have you seen that chicks legs? Fuckin' A, man… She bought me some drinks, I promised her orgasms." They were face to face now, and Santana was grinning down at her. "Rain-check, kay, Chica?" With that she patted Rachel on the head and strode out of the kitchen and to her bedroom.

When the singer was sure the other brunette was gone, and just as she started hearing the moans coming from the bedroom, Rachel allowed the tears that had been welling up in her eyes to finally stream down unrelentingly over her reddened cheeks. "S-sure…" she choked out, despite knowing Santana clearly wasn't going to hear her. As the moans got louder and the sobs started breaking through and making her chest tighten, the singer couldn't bare it any longer.

Without another thought she hastily scribbled out a note to Santana and grabbed her cellphone and keys and wallet from the counter. As she was walking out the door her phone finally picked up. "K-kurt? I-I-I'm s-sorry, it's just that- I just- I really need to come over…"

Santana woke up with a splitting headache and a warm body pressed up against her. She could barely remember last night, but she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach and was pretty sure she had fucked up somehow. Looking over to see wavy blond hair splayed out over her shoulder, the brunette groaned and flung her free arm over her eyes. "Fffffuck," she hissed. Rachel was gonna be pissed.

Twenty minutes later the nameless woman (Catherine? Katie? It didn't matter) was out the door and Santana was waiting for her coffee to get done when she saw the note on the counter. She frowned, noting that Rachel's usually flowing script was sharp and erratic and that there were- Oh God please don't tell me those are tears. Did I make her cry? Fucking hell what did I say to her last night?

Then it hit her. Everything came rushing back.

She was at the lounge she worked at, just getting done with her set and getting ready to leave and get to the movie marathon her and Rachel had been planning when one of the new waitresses had come up to her and offered to buy her a drink. Of course she had said yes. What was one drink? Then one turned to two, then three, and before she knew what was going on she was making out with the woman in a taxi cab on their way back to Santana's.

She remembered seeing Rachel in the kitchen when she came through the door, and- Jesus Christ how could she not have noticed how fucking strickenthe girl had looked? She also remembered telling Rachel to go to Kurt's, and by now was seriously considering calling Quinn up and asking her to slap her in the face – repeatedly. "I am an asshole," groaned the ex-cheerleader as she slapped her palm over her eyes.

"I'd be lying if I said otherwise, yes…"

Santana looked up to see an anxious, red-eyed, and tired looking Rachel standing on the other side of the counter, hands clasped in front of her and only briefly making eye contact with the taller girl before going back down to the floor. She hadn't even heard the tiny singer come in. "Um… Shit Rachel, I am so, so sorry…"

Rachel just shrugged. "It's fine, Santana. Well, I mean, having to wake Kurt up at 12am and taking a 30 minute cab ride to his loft at such an hour after having been 'sexiled' by my drunk roommate who promised me a bad-movie-marathon isn't fine… But this is your apartment, too, and you are free to bring home women in order to um… scratch an itch, or whatever it is you want to call it, at your leisure."

Santana frowned, moving around the counter to stand in front of Rachel, who still refused to look at her. "Rachie…"

"No- Just. Just don't, San. I'm very tired, and I'd like to actually get some real sleep before rehearsal this afternoon. So, if you would excuse me." She turned to go down the small hallway to her room and heard Santana call out.

"We on for that marathon tonight?"

Rachel froze for a moment, her hands tightening in front of her. "Um, no, I'm sorry, Santana. Kurt and some of his friends offered to take me out tonight. I'll probably be sleeping at his place again, so- well if you'd like to have someone over, I won't be in your way." Then she hurried into her room and shut the door before her roommate could reply.

She had been napping for maybe an hour when she felt the mattress dip and slim, but strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her close. She was able to continue to feign sleep up until she felt soft lips kiss her neck, and then her ear. Shuddering, Rachel squirmed, but the arms just drew her in closer. "I'm sorry, Chica," came a low whisper, and the smaller girl clenched her eyes shut tighter, willing herself to breathe evenly. The low, smoky voice continued, though. "I'm sorry for blowing you off last night, and for bringing girls home when I know it bothers you."

"S-Santana-"

"Shhhhhh." Hot air blew over her pulse point, and Rachel's breath hitched. "I'm sorry that I keep being a bitch to you, even though you're like, this incredibly awesome roommate 90% of the time. The other ten percent you're only kinda awesome."

Rachel blushed, and bit back the smile that was threatening to overtake her lips. She felt Santana shift, and then she was being rolled over onto her back and Santana was hovering over her. Her heart skipped a beat.

"San…?"

But the tanned woman shook her head, placing a finger over the smaller woman's lips. "Shhh, remember?"

Rachel pouted a little, and the woman above her just smiled. "And, most of all…" Santana inhaled, exhaling slowly, and for a moment the diva could swear the ex-Cheerio looked… nervous. "I'm sorry for being such a damn coward that I tried sleeping away my feelings for you."

And then Rachel was pretty much positive that time had stopped.

"W-what?" she managed.

Santana's nervousness became a bit more apparent, and she looked over to the side. "I… like you… A lot. More than just as a roommate or a friend, or whatever… I didn't wanna like, freak you out, so I kept… having girls over. Last night wasn't supposed to happen, though. I got drunk, and I fucked up, and I'm sorry…"

No one spoke then, for a good few minutes, before finally, the songstress swallowed, moved her hands to cup Santana's cheeks, and made her look at her. "Prove it," she whispered. The other woman raised an eyebrow, so Rachel went on. "Prove you like me, and show me… show me how sorry you are."

The smirk that splayed over Santana's full lips could only be described predatory, and it sent a shiver down Rachel's spine and a heat straight through her gut. Before she could say anything else those lush lips were on hers, soft and inviting and so, so perfect. Rachel gasped as Santana nipped at her lower lip, and then their tongues were dancing and entwining and as skilled fingers began to make their way under Rachel's shirt, all she could think was,

Finally.