A/N: Thank you guys for the great input on the first chapter. Hope you guys enjoy. I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review.
Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing. Maybe some triggers but I don't want to give anything away. Angst. I haven't done much research yet so all mistakes are my own.
Once Shay had finally stopped whining about her headache and bragging about her night she had to leave. She'd chosen to extend her contract and so for the time being, I was just going to be home. The first day wasn't so bad; I managed to clean the apartment pretty thoroughly. That didn't stop me from staring at my phone and wondering when would be a good time to call Santana. It wasn't typical of me to be so forward but I got the feeling I would definitely regret not getting her number. There was, I'm sure, some sort of social etiquette for that situation but I didn't know exactly what that was so I could only glance anxiously at my phone before moving on to channel surfing. By the third day I had the phone in hand with her number selected as I made a horrible decision.
It rang once, no answer. Twice, no answer. On the third ring I was gnawing my lip raw. There might as well have been a fourth ring considering there was no answer.
"Um, hello? Santana?"
I heard a frustrated sigh amidst the silence.
Finally, I heard a voice, choking back laughter, "Really?" Somebody questioned before taking the phone. "So, tell me, how much nerve does it take to call a mute girl?"
"Oh my god, I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking about that," my cheeks burned and I'd buried my head in my lap in embarrassment.
"Yeah, well, if you're done making a fool of yourself, you might want to think of something else you could do like, I don't know, text messaging her." She must have handed off the phone because her voice grew distant as she teased, "Calm down, your creepy phone breathing hasn't scared her off yet."
What sounded like a slap followed before the phone went silent again. I had to check that she was still on the line before I sighed, "I think I'll try texting you now."
The line went dead.
Santana: Just curious, did that really seem like a good idea?
Rachel: I suppose not. I'm so sorry.
Santana: Stop apologizing, it's fine.
Santana: So did you call for something?
Rachel: I was wondering if you wanted to get together.
Santana: When?
I hadn't actually thought that far ahead. It took me long enough time to get myself together to call her and now that I'd botched that, I wasn't entirely certain when we could go out, well I would be free for quite some time.
Rachel: Maybe tonight?
Santana: I have to work tonight.
Santana: But it is a bar so I couldn't actually tell you not to show up.
Rachel: Is that an invitation.
Santana: It's a fact.
Santana: I also couldn't stop you from using my name at the bar.
Rachel: Is there any time you particularly couldn't stop me from showing up?
Santana: I'll be there all night.
I was just genuinely excited to see Santana tonight, although I didn't entirely think through inviting Shay. Rather, texting her, only for her to insist she was coming too. She even took dressing me upon herself; denying me any form of sweater or vest over my white button-up and going as far as threatening to pop the buttons off if I buttoned them too high. When I got to the theater a few people told me they still wished I could have been in the show and asked for pictures and autographs. I was glad to oblige before we left.
Riding to the bar wasn't even that bad, between Shay talking about how I was going to hook up and how she was going to get drunk. Inwardly, I groaned at the thought of her drinking, but I was glad she'd dropped the subject of my outfit; I even managed to get a couple more buttons done up. Inside the bar I saw no sign of Santana among the few occupants of the bar that night. I followed Shay to the bar, still looking for any sign of dark hair. Shay was already calling the bartender forward.
"You see her?" Shay asked past the drink she was already draining.
I shook my head, "Maybe she's not here."
"You said she works here, right?" She didn't even give me a chance to answer as she called the bartender back, "Is- Rachel, what's her name?"
I scowled at her before looking up to the man, "Santana."
"Yeah, is she here?" Shay questioned.
The man had an entertained smirk on his lips, "Who's asking?"
"Her date," Shay pointed to me.
He laughed and nodded to a door behind the bar, "First door in, you'll see it."
I looked to Shay hesitantly before entering the small opening he held open for me.
I didn't know what he'd meant about me seeing it until I saw the door. It was a normal door with a metal name-plate on it but it was covered in masking tape. In red marker someone had written Satan and surrounded the word with crude little flames. I was uncertain about it but held my hand up to knock anyway. It took a moment for someone to open it, but when I did two kids came out, passing me quickly; neither of them looked more than nineteen. I only focused on them for a bit before I saw Santana holding the door.
"Hello Santana, I didn't mean to intrude on you while you were working but the bartender said you were back here and from our text messages I assu-"
She shushed me, waving me in before closing the door.
I watched as she pushed the chair in front of her desk out in offering, organizing some papers on the desk to clear some space as she sat on it.
"Is this your office?" I wondered as I looked around.
She shook her head and reached behind herself to turn a small name plate that obviously wasn't her own. I looked back up as she said, "It's the owner's. I just work in here."
"You said you do numbers, right? What exactly does that entail?"
She shuffled some papers on the desk before pointing to the computer. I saw what looked like an order form with different brands of alcohol listed.
"Stock?"
She nodded and shrugged, "It's pretty boring."
"You said you were alright behind the bar though," I looked up to her curiously, "Does that mean you also work there?"
She shrugged again but it was accompanied by a shake this time, "No, but do you want a drink?"
"Alright," I decided.
We left the small office quickly, her locking the door before we went back up front. The boy I'd seen leaving her office ducked under the bar entrance. Santana ruffled his hair before he disappeared in the back. When she asked, I assured her I was fine drinking anything. I watched intently as she pulled down bottles expertly and drew a shaker from under the counter. She mixed things expertly and reached for a couple of glasses when an already bleary-eyed Shay took note of us, she came from her seat a bit farther down.
"Rach, 's this your friend?" She asked a bit too giddily.
"Yes," I looked to the amused girl next to me, "Santana, this is my room-mate, Shay, Shay, this is Santana."
Santana leaned forward on the bar and held out her hand.
Shay shook it and looked to the shaker, "You a bartender?"
She shrugged and waved her hand in a so-so manner.
"I like her," Shay declared as she looked to me, "If you bring her back to the apartment make sure she has booze."
My eyes widened as she said that. "Shay!" I scolded.
It didn't help when Santana poured her a glass from the shaker.
"Wait," she called as I was about to follow Santana to the back again. When I looked back she began stage-whispering, "She's not very talkative is she? I mean, she's too hot to be a murderer but still, I'd take my chances." She sipped her drink excitedly, "She's good. You should let her get you drunk."
"Shay," I sighed exasperatedly and blushed as I looked back to see Santana holding back laughter.
We went back to her office although she took the seat this time. She set the glasses she'd had between her fingers down and poured it easily. She handed me one and took the other for herself.
"So, my roommate seems to like you," I pointed out.
She nodded and laughed, "I couldn't tell."
I rolled my eyes at her and brought the glass to my lips uncertainly. It was delicious, the cool drink filly my mouth sweetly. "So, you really don't work the bar? I could see people buying this."
"Not really," she shook her head.
"You know your way around pretty well."
"I was a bar back; didn't really cut it," she finished her drink quickly.
"Oh," I looked down to my glass.
She sat forward to grab the shaker, "Want some more?"
"No, somebody has to be the responsible one and Shay's already made the decision."
She poured me some anyway, "Do you want to be?"
"Be what?"
"Irresponsible," she offered, a mischievous look on her face, "I can get your friend a cab."
"You really don't have to," I urged.
She stood up and went to her door, looking up and down the hall before she waved someone over. I saw the girl who'd come from Santana's office earlier.
She listened intently as Santana told her something and pulled some money from her pocket to hand the girl.
"Shay, right?" She asked.
Santana gestured to me.
"Yes, just tell her I'll see her at home."
The girl smiled and took off.
Santana went back to her seat, "She wanted me to get you drunk, right?"
I flushed, "I should still try to act appropriately."
She laughed and I found myself enjoying the airy sound, "It's a bar; people get drunk."
"And how do I know you aren't just getting me drunk for your own reasons?" I challenged.
That haughty smirk fit itself perfectly on her lips as she shrugged. I didn't really know what to say when she moved easily before me, hands blocking me against the desk.
It was hard not to blatantly stare at her lips with our proximity, but if I hadn't been I would have missed the subtle, "You don't."
I shivered slightly as her lips pressed gently against mine, but as they slid over mine and came back they were firmer. She glanced away to take my drink, setting it down before urging my hand up to her shoulder. The other followed as hers found my hips. One of my hands found its way into silky dark locks while the other gripped the fabric at her shoulder. She tasted of the sweet drink we'd just shared but also of something bitterer, maybe a beer. I'd known she was in front of me but I hadn't known she'd gotten so close, pressing firmly against me as one of her hands slipped onto my back. My cheeks burned as I pressed my knees into her hips, uncertain of when they'd gotten there, actually, unnerved by that. I loosened the grip I had on her hair, still not entirely certain I wouldn't float away without it, to press her shoulders gently. She didn't relent without one more rough brush of our lips.
She seemed far more lucid than I could even hope to appear; her eyes were focused, hungry, and questioning.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, bringing my fingertips up to my lips, "I should, um, shouldn't drink so much."
Her eyes still held that same focused questioning but they softened, "Do you want to stop?"
No. "I think we should."
She nodded hesitantly and pulled back, her fingers falling from my hips and over the edge of the table before dropping to her sides.
My own hands only brushed over her collar bone before gasping the same edge to stand. They fell to smooth out my skirt, my eyes locked on the motion.
When her fingers grasped my chin gently I was expecting, hoping, for her lips to meet mine again, instead she had her smirk back in place, "Are you always this hot and cold?"
I huffed and brushed her hand away, "Excuse me for trying to act in a matter befitting a lady."
"Of the evening?" She looked so amused.
I gaped at her, fuming as I brushed down my skirt again, "I really didn't come here to be treated so-so," I shook my head turning to leave.
I felt the same brush of her fingers over my palm and I couldn't help but turn back, "So charmingly."
I glared at her and pulled my hand back, placing it on my hip to match its partner, "Do you treat every girl so crudely?"
She cocked her head and shrugged, "Only the cute ones."
I tried to keep up my annoyed façade but my flaring cheeks gave me away.
"Do you have to go?" She asked, that mischievous leer replaced by something genuinely curious.
I didn't answer, just continued trying to locate the trouble that so easily vanished from her features. It was a bit disconcerting.
"I have to stay until closing but I can try to behave if you'd want to hang around," she shrugged.
I should have said no after what she'd said to me but seeing no trace of that same leer on her face I couldn't help when I went back to sit on the desk, wishing it weren't so necessary to watch her lips.
In the few hours between then and closing time she did manage to restrain herself, although a snide comment or two slipped. Apparently she was meant to be ordering supplies and entering some of the week's earnings. She really was good with numbers. Some papers just looked like masses of digits, but she was adept at finding what she needed and inputting it into the computer, all while keeping up with our conversations. When she wasn't being sarcastic or cocky she was actually pretty funny.
She explained to me that the kids I kept seeing were bar backs. They stepped in to speak to her every so often, usually messages from the bartender. I even followed her back up front a couple of times. We both finished the drink she'd made although she handled it better than me; I was still restraining myself from behaving as I had before but she made it seem so much easier not to push me back onto the desk. Honestly, she hadn't even tried anything since I'd stopped her. When closing time finally came around I was waiting at the bar for her as she helped pick up. She shut off the lights and waved the bartender and kids off.
"Should you be driving?" I wondered as we walked outside.
She shrugged and shook her head.
"How are you getting home?"
She looked up and down the street for a moment. When she didn't see what she was looking for she led me under a street-light, "Walk, maybe."
I shook my head, "It's too dark."
She gave me one of those airy chuckles, "You need a cab." She was still looking up the street.
"Come home with me," I flushed as I offered.
She quirked her eyebrow before something caught her attention. She quickly brought her pinkies up to her lips, pushing out a sharp screech before a familiar vehicle stopped in front of us. She held the door open.
I stood before it, ignoring the driver's huffing as I tried again, "Really, I'd feel horrible if something happened to you."
She rolled her eyes and pointed for to get in.
"Please," I tried once more, pouting as I did.
She sighed but nodded, following me into the cab.
I gave the driver my address and we rode in silence, Santana pulling out her phone, I'm assuming to text her roommate, while I hoped my own was already asleep. I led her up to the apartment, glad when Shay wasn't all over us. When I took her to my room I grew a bit uneasy. I wasn't exactly sure what the protocol was for this was. She just watched me, that overly-entertained smirk back in place.
"I think it would be best if you slept in here," I explained, feeling the all too familiar burning sensation on my cheeks.
"Best for me or for you?" She wondered, moving to sit on the edge of my bed.
I ignored her as I went to my dresser to find some pajamas. I had my own and was going to offer her some when I turned and saw her already sliding her jeans down. "What are you doing?" I asked, bordering on frantic.
She looked around, trying to discern my concern, holding her jeans just below her hips, "Going to bed."
"Wouldn't you prefer some more appropriate sleepwear?" I offered, turning back to the drawers so she wouldn't see my cheeks. I didn't bother to turn in order to see her smirk but she held her hand out for the clothes, the other was holding up the jeans I was certain were too tight to fall on their own anyway.
I found some running shorts and a tank top, and hoped they'd fit.
"The restroom is the first door before the living room," I explained.
She laughed slightly and took the pile. I quickly changed into my own pajamas before going and getting a couple of water bottles. I stopped by Shay's room, glad that she was asleep and breathing. When I go back Santana was already sitting on my bed. She took the offered bottle and sipped a bit. I noticed that my clothes barely fit her. The shorts didn't leave much to the imagination and the shirt climbed a bit as she moved, revealing the flat stomach beneath. Actually, when she stretched her hands over her head I saw the glint of something metallic.
"It's rude to stare," she dropped her phone in front of me.
"I wasn't," I defended weakly.
She rolled her eyes and slipped into the bed, "I should have known you had a reason for bringing me here."
"And what is it?" I glared.
"To seduce me," she nodded resolutely, "Or watch me sleep."
I couldn't help but laugh at that, "And I can't just be a nice enough person to invite you to stay in my home?"
She shook her head.
"Maybe you're the one trying to seduce me," I pointed out.
She looked thoughtful for a moment before lying back and stretching again, giving me a much better view of the jewelry on her navel. I barely registered the "Maybe," her lips formed.
"Stop doing that," I muttered although the words even sounded weak to me.
"Why?" she asked as I let her fingers bring my attention back to her lips.
I didn't have a good answer as she sat up slightly, moving closer to me. I didn't exactly register how I ended up leaning over her, drawing her lips between mine as her hands tangled in my hair this time. My own was following the hem of her borrowed shirt; seeking the metal nit I knew I'd find and enjoying the light fluttering I felt as I did. Her mouth moved hungrily against mine, licking and sucking where I chose to bite. After a moment I had to push her back and she was a bit more willing to stop, the focus she'd had last time wasn't there as she panted gently along with me.
"How do you keep doing this?" I signed, sitting up, away from her.
"It's a gift," she flashed that smirk once more but it was quickly over-taken by a yawn.
I rolled my eyes before reaching over her to the lamp on the nightstand. I clicked it off. "Has anyone ever told you you're full of yourself?"
I barely made out the nod of her head in the darkness. Somehow, I wasn't surprised.
}{
"Rachel," a familiar voice called.
I shook my head, nuzzling my pillow, "Go away Shay."
"But we've got to talk," she stage-whispered, far too excited for someone with a hangover.
Even my head was throbbing a bit, "No we don't."
"But the chick in your bed," she whined.
I finally had to sit up, the events of the night before coming back to me along with a sharp pain as I took not of the dark hair covering one of my pillows.
"Get out," I hissed, slipping out of the bed to leave the room quietly.
"Oh my God, you finally got some," she cheered.
"Don't say that! No, I didn't," I scowled
"Then what's she doing in your bed?" The girl challenged.
I looked away anxiously, "She couldn't drive and it was too dark for her to walk?"
"And even with all of that in your favor you still couldn't hook up?" Shay sounded like she was the one missing out.
"No, Shay, I chose to be responsible," I sighed, leaning against the door.
She scoffed, "That's no fun."
"Whatever you say,' I waved her off, "Can I go back to sleep now?"
"I don't know why you'd want to," she shrugged, already growing bored with the subject, "She's like dead asleep."
"I'd rather she stay that way than explain to her that you're insane," I teased, finally turning to slip back into my room. I climbed into the bed, pulling my pillow back to me when I saw Santana brushing dark locks from her face as she turned to face me, looking less than pleased about being away.
"Kicking me out?" She muttered the motion a bit stunted in her weariness. She repeated it a couple of times before I understood.
"No," I shook my head, "Despite your personality and ego, I've actually enjoyed your company."
She smiled lazily, "Despite or because of?"
I rolled my eyes, "Because who doesn't love being called a prostitute."
"Admit it," she slipped her arm over my hip and I squeaked slightly as she pulled me against her, "I'm charming."
She was. "If that's the word you want to use," I answered distractedly.
She nodded and smirked, pressing her lips firmly to mine but I stopped her before we could get too into it.
"You need to stop doing that," I sighed.
She licked her lips.
"I don't know if this is appropriate," I started, carefully watching her lips, "But would you be interested in hanging out here today?" I blushed for the umpteenth time before adding on, "If you aren't busy that is."
She shrugged and nodded. "You're alright for someone so stuck up."
I wanted to smack the smirk off of her face, instead I just pushed away from her, "I'm going back to sleep now though, hopefully I'll see the logic in letting you stay when I wake up. Help yourself to anything in the fridge and don't worry about Shay, she'll probably be leaving for work in a few hours."
"I feel cheated," she muttered.
"How?" I hummed comfortably into my pillow, really only seeing her from one eye.
"Thanks for letting me stay and lending me clothes, but I certainly would have been fine just getting all up on that," she nodded.
It took a moment to register what exactly she said and I blushed deeply.
She smirked dangerously, "But hanging out is cool too."