AN: Another day another chapter.


Santana watched as Charlie fidgeted, tapping her foot, playing with the hems of the suit that she was wearing and wringing her hands. Charlie was nervous, that was obvious, but for the life of her she couldn't exactly figure out why. Charlie had always looked good in her expensive pantsuits, and now that she had lost weight and toned up quite a bit, the pantsuits fit her even better. It wasn't as if Charlie hadn't gotten appreciative looks from women as they walked into the restaurant, but the fidgeting seemed to be a bit of a turn off. "So this is what's going to happen. We're going to pretend that this is a date, and that I don't know you. Just do what you normally do on dates, and I'll go over what you need to work on."

Charlie swallowed and tugged on the hem of her jacket, it was hot in here. To hot, she didn't wear suit jackets anymore. She didn't really wear suits anymore. The fancy clothing felt odd on her body, not that it didn't fit. Santana had insisted that it fit her a bit too well. She was sure she looked fine in the outfit. It was just that it felt wrong. She didn't belong in nice clothing. It made her feel like a fraud. "Santana—I don't think this is a good idea," Charlie mumbles to her quietly. This felt weird and pretending to go on a date with Santana was blurring the lines. She had managed to convince herself that Santana could never love her.

"It's not just a good idea, it's a perfect idea." Santana says briskly, deciding to ignore Charlie's protests. "You're going to date, and I'd like to know that you'd found someone that Bela could in theory accept as a maternal figure. She can play in dirt, and still want a manicure Charlie and those things even ten years ago never interested you. Well the playing in dirt thing clearly stuck, but I mean over all, and unfortunately you're allergic to Brittany."

"I'm sure there are shots for that," Charlie mumbled, and took a step away from Santana. "I get it—you want to make sure that Bela is surrounded by people who can help her grow. I just don't know why you want me to start dating again. People aren't interested—I'm not interested."

"You can't start the evening by fishing for compliments Charlie, now pretend that you don't know me. Introduce yourself like this was the first time we're meeting. And you're going to need to stop fidgeting." Santana reaches for Charlie's handing holding it still as the waiter comes to seat them. "Alright, exactly like this is a first date for you." Santana let go of her hand and watched as Charlie moved clumsily to her side of the table. "Hi, I'm Santana, it's a pleasure to meet you." Santana extended her hand forward and watched as Charlie immediately stuck her hand out, hitting one of the glass cups that was on the table. The glass teetered and Charlie immediately grabbed it and set it down. Santana blinked, and turned to Charlie. This date was already going terribly and if Charlie was this clumsy in front of other women, it was already sending some odd messages, but it wasn't a date killer. People were clumsy and she looked nervous, some women might even find that cute.

"Hi—I'm Charlie, and I'm a recovering drug addict." Charlie forced a smile onto her face and shook Santana's outstretched hand, ignoring the shocked look on Santana's face. Santana had said to treat this like all of her dates, which was exactly what she was going to do. She takes her seat and immediately picks up the menu to let her date digest the information and to give them time to leave.

Well that certainly explained why Charlie hadn't had any sort of steady girlfriend in ten years. Hearing someone say that, on the first date as they introduced themselves to you, was a death knoll for a second date. So was this hiding behind a menu thing that she was currently doing, she could understand why women didn't want to take the time to get to know her, if this had been a real date where she hadn't known Charlie she'd be waiting patiently until the dinner date ended before heading home. She wouldn't even let her near Bela. Santana exhales slowly but she was going to see this through to the very end and actually try and engage Charlie who was doing this on purpose even if it was a subconscious thing. "When you say recovering how long does that mean?" Santana asks and Charlie glances up at her surprised by the question.

"Ten years now," the response was mumbled and Charlie immediately began to fidget again not liking the questions. "What do you do—I mean as a job? I'm a contractor, I do renovations and stuff."

Renovations and stuff, she was really selling herself short. She had taken a look at the basement and it looked better than it had before. The garden was beautiful to, even if she hadn't planted anything in it, the whole thing was simply stunning, and it didn't take up that much space. She wanted to keep Charlie around and see what she thought about renovating her bathroom and her kitchen, and maybe Bela's room as well. "Law, I'm a lawyer. Civil litigation mostly, but really I'm more of a PR person. I clean up other people's images, it's a pain in the ass most days. People need to realize that if you don't know how the internet works you shouldn't take a picture of your dick, or naked photos. Certainly none with your face in them. I don't know why people insist on sending naked photos with their face in them."

"Is that what you deal with most of the time? Dick pictures?" Charlie asks a smile crossing her face as she leans in to listen to Santana talk.

"That's what it feels like most of the time," Santana admits and blinks suddenly aware of what Charlie had done shifting the attention to her. She shifts and her lips quirk up in a smile. The old Charlie was still in there buried under whatever insecurities, and nervous ticks she seemed to have developed. She'd just need to dig a bit to get past her carefully crafted walls, and if anyone knew how to get under Charlie's skin it was her. "So did you go to group meetings?"

Charlie immediately shifted and picked up her menu, she would rather talk about what Santana did then talk about herself. "I still go, well not lately but I've been busy," she admits as Santana reaches forward and places a hand on her menu.

"Well how often did you go?" Santana pressed.

"Nearly every day for eight years, they have meetings all over the city, on different days at different times. So I just sort of got into the habit of going every day." Charlie admits and Santana stares at her, causing her to shift uncomfortably. "I do other things too," Charlie admits quickly suddenly realizing how it sounded. "I go for runs sometimes, and I read and build stuff." Charlie slowly stops talking she feels embarrassed all of a sudden. Her life wasn't all that interesting, there were no fancy cars anymore, no more money. She didn't go drinking with the guys or go to parties, she just sort of lived in whatever apartment that had a minimal amount of stuff in it that she could easily pack and move when she needed to. Rachel was right, she was agoraphobic. Maybe she should join some sort of class, or something.

"What do you build?" Santana asks, Charlie looks up at her and the look is back, this is uncomfortable for her, but Charlie's comfort zone was so small these days it wasn't difficult, no wonder she had quit dating. "I mean are we talking Lego? Because if we are I have you to thank for Bela's Lego obsession when she was a child. Do you know how expensive those damn blocks are? She wasn't even very good at following the damn instructions." She needed Charlie to not say birdhouses, because if she did she was going to force an intervention.

"Stuff," Charlie mumbles and looks around for the waiter. She pulls on the collar of her shirt, but the waitress seems to be busy with another table and she sinks in her chair.

"Oh god you make something lame like bird houses, I knew it." Santana said and Charlie turned to her. She was pressing she knew she was but Charlie needed to talk to her, or at least someone.

"No not birdhouses," Charlie tugs on her collar again, it's hot in here. "I just build stuff that I think is cool. I give most of it away though. I was thinking of doing something like that with Bela but she thinks I'm sort of lame as it is."

"She's ten years old, she thinks all adults are lame." Santana pointed out. "I think it'd be good for her, what were you thinking of making with her? Maybe I can sit back and watch."

"Oh um, I know she likes video games so I was thinking of making one of those you know old arcade cabinets that can play old school arcade games, but you don't need to put in any money. I mean it's going to take a bit of research but, I just think she'd like it. I mean she likes the play thing I got for her right?" Charlie frowned and scratched her cheek. "Puck thought it might be a fun project to do with her, and it's summer—" Charlie trails off. "She doesn't think you're lame, she thinks everyone is lame compared to you," Charlie flashes her a small smile.

"Charlie, that's a perfect idea." Santana says and Charlie frowns. "It's summer vacation and I didn't send her to some far off camp because I don't trust random ass teenagers who get paid minimum wage to take care of Bela. Which means that I'm stuck finding ways for her to be entertained. Stuff that we used to do is now lame, cause she's a little shit who is growing up too fast."

"Do you think she'll be into it?" Charlie asks with a serious look on her face. "I mean it's not going to be like the best graphic wise or anything but we could always just give it to Puck, he'd probably love it if she doesn't want it. I mean she already says I'm old and lame like all the time."

"She's a ten year old Charlie, of course you're old and lame. But if you have a bit of enthusiasm and use a bit of reverse psychology, and have flashing lights then I'm sure you can convince her to help you out. And who the fuck knows she might actually learn to follow the damn instructions once in awhile instead of skipping steps and hoping that it works." Santana smirks. "She's ten years old, she has the attention span of well—a ten year old. Have fun with that."

Charlie blinked suddenly getting the feeling she had been suckered into something, "Wait—"

"I'm sorry for the wait, can I take your order please?" The waitress asked interrupting them. "Are you ready to order or do you need more time?"

"I'll have a salad please, with the dressing on the side and just water please," Santana said turning to Charlie.

"Uh the same," Charlie said with a nod and turned to Santana who gave her a strange look.

"I thought you would have a steak or something, you never willing ate a salad before," Santana shifts and narrows her eyes. She turns to the waitress. "She'll have a steak."

"Santana!" Charlie grumbles and she's met with a smile and she shifts. The feeling that his is a bad idea hits her again as Santana lets out a small laugh. "I eat salads now and I run sometimes, if I have time—"

"Whoa Bela was right, you did get boring in your old age," Santana teases watching as Charlie flushes. This feels normal and nice and she's enjoying it. It was different, Charlie was different and maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. "So how would you go about building this arcade thing?"

Charlie blinked and smiled at Santana. "Oh well, I'd have to order the buttons and joystick online, but I have some wood lying around and we can paint it. But basically we'd just need one of these Raspberry Pi things some wires—" Charlie began going into detail a pleased smile on her face as she explained the process.

It was like how she used to talk about numbers, that same passion was there, it just had moved on. Still there was a lot going on under the hood. "You know, in the beginning I thought that you were sort of hopeless, the fidgeting the self-sabotage. But you're still you Charlie and I know that you can get a woman if you really wanted to. Maybe you just weren't meeting the type of women who wanted to dig down deep." Santana shrugs. "Don't worry though we'll find you someone—"

"Why not you?" The words come out of her mouth and then Charlie blinks and claps her hand over her mouth as Santana turns to her. "I'm sorry—I just—this just feels like a date—"

"It's supposed to, this is a fake date," Santana said defensively pulling back. "Charlie I understand that Bela has this idea that we could try again and everything will magically turn out fine but we're not children anymore. We know it doesn't work like that, a kiss isn't going to fix everything. It isn't going to erase our past. It's not—this isn't a date."

She's right, she knows that Santana is right, but her brain and this setting aren't helping with her thoughts. "I know, I'm sorry for bringing it up," Charlie said quickly trying to smoothen things over. Santana wasn't interested and that was the end of that.

Santana sighs, "I want to say it's not you it's me, but our history is beyond complicated. Then there's the small fact that I'm dying Charlie." Santana said and held up her hand. "I am, I can feel it in my bones, and my Mexican third eye is never wrong." She shrugs her shoulders and looks away. "I want to make sure that you're the person that Bela needs you to be. I need you to swear to me that when it gets tough, and it will that you won't—"

"I won't," Charlie promises reaching over to take Santana's hand. She wanted to say that Santana was wrong that her Mexican Third Eye had been wrong before, that she was going to live. But she can't, because what if Santana wasn't wrong. What if she did die?

Santana watched Charlie for a moment, she could see the war going on in Charlie's mind. She could see the flash of horror as Charlie finally realized that she probably wasn't going to get better, and she forces a smile onto her lips. "Okay," she brings her hands down on the table causing Charlie to look up at her. "Let me pay for the bill and let's get out of here, this is getting way to sad for a fake date and you look like you're about to cry and that'd be embarrassing. I haven't made a girl cry on a date in years." Santana said reaching for her wallet, the she watches as Charlie's hand goes to her eyes to try and rub away any tears. Her tone is cheerful and upbeat and she gets up to go see if they can have their order to go and pay for dinner.

Charlie rubbed her head, this was how most of her dates ended anyway, but they still had a long awkward car ride together because Santana had driven her to the restaurant. She begins to fidget again as Santana pays and the food is brought out in to-go containers and reaches and carries them to the car and slides into the passenger seat as Santana gets into the driver's seat. "Are you scared?" Charlie asked and then crinkled her nose. "I'm sorry that was a stupid question," Charlie mumbles. She was scared.

Santana plants her hand on the steering wheel, and stares ahead, the fake cheer and false smiles disappearing. "I'm fucking terrified." Santana swallows. "I'm fucking terrified Charlie. I don't want to die. I wanted to grow old so I could be a bitch to everyone and they'd just laugh it off because I'm old. I wanted to see Bela grow up and go to college, and graduate, and get married to someone she knew I didn't really approve of. I wanted to be like my parents bitching about more grandkids." Santana grips the steering wheel even tighter. "I didn't ever think that I'd be alone if something like this happened. I love Brittany and she's been helpful, but I thought that I'd have a partner. I can't put all this on Bela, I can't put all of this on Brittany even though she wants me to, and that's the worst part about this. I'm alone and I'm fucking terrified."

"You're not alone," Charlie says reaching for Santana's hand. "I get it, you and I aren't ever going to be anything but I can help. I get it, sort of, I mean yeah it was a design of my own making, but I know what it feels like to know that you're going to die alone." Charlie squeezed Santana's hand. "So, I'll be there for you. I don't live far so if you need to talk to me, any time if you need anything call me and I'll be there. You don't have to do this alone."

Santana swallows and doesn't say anything, because she doesn't want to start bawling in front of Charlie. So she flashes Charlie a smile and moves to start her car, driving the two of them back to her place in relative silence. She glances at Charlie discretely every time she could, if things were different, then maybe—no. It was better not to think that way. She sighs as she parks her car in the driveway. It's a rare day where she doesn't feel absolutely wrecked at the end of the day. Maybe she could actually do something tonight. She gets out of the car and watches as Charlie quickly transfers all of the stuff that she had bought for her into her truck even her paint covered jeans and shirt. She had tried to convince the store clerk to burn them when Charlie wasn't looking but apparently they didn't do that anymore. "Well goodnight," Santana said looking at Charlie as she heads towards the entrance to her house.

Charlie is about to say goodnight when she remembers that she was still holding Santana's salad, and moves to give it to her. Hopping up the steps as Santana fumbles for her key. "You forgot dinner," Charlie reminded her causing her to nearly drop the keys in surprise. The whole thing is awkward, maybe she overstepped earlier today but she needed to get it back on a safe topic. "I know you're worried about Bela, but you did a really great job with her. Thank you for letting me be a part of her life again, I promise I won't—"

She doesn't really know why she leans in to kiss Charlie, but she does and it's a mistake, she knows it is. But she had definitely been lying to Bela when she informed her that Charlie was a terrible kisser. She still very much had it. This was a terrible idea, but she was dying of cancer. She needed to have a bit of fun before she died and Charlie even at her worst had been a lot of fun. It was just one night. What was the harm?


AN: The morning after oh what a tangled web I weave and there is what 8 more chapters left?