Title: Ambitions Deleted Scene Five: Marking Your Territory
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, OCs
Rating: R for the C word.
Summary: "Miles Silverman is the biggest prick I've ever met," Rachel says. "Why do I have to go?" "Because he also produces brand new Tony winning musicals," Gretchen explains.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~1,500
Spoilers: Ambitions One and Two
A/N: For IDF 2012. Requested by kiarcheo

March 2024

Rachel is both surprised and disgusted when she receives an invitation to Miles Silverman's annual St. Patrick's Day bash. She's debating whether or not to go when her cell phone rings.

"This is Rachel."

"Rachel, darling, it's Gretchen."

"Oh hello Gretchen."

"Have you checked your email this morning?" she asks.

"I'm in the process of doing so. Why?"

"You should have an invitation to the Silverman bash on the 16th."

"I do."

"Good. Make sure your dear wife has the night off. Because you're going."

"Miles Silverman is the biggest prick I've ever met," Rachel says. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because he also produces brand new Tony winning musicals," Gretchen explains. "So if he requests your presence, you show up. You want him to know who you are, Rachel."

"Fine," Rachel sighs. "But you owe me."

"I'm already paying you back," Gretchen replies. "If you get the lead in his new musical, you'll be thanking me then."

"Only if I get a Tony out of it," Rachel retorts, before hanging up. She then sends Santana an email explaining the situation. Luckily, since it's a Saturday, Santana assures her that she'll be able to attend.

…

Saturday the 16th, Rachel is not looking forward to the party, but nonetheless, she gets ready and drags Santana down to a cab.

"I'd say we should drink a lot to deal," Santana says. "But I don't trust that guy to not grab your ass."

"And I don't trust you to not react to that," Rachel replies. "So we'll keep the drinking to a minimal."

"How long do we have to stay?"

"Longer than I'd like," Rachel sighs. "I'm hoping three hours is enough. Though I might blame it on your libido."

"What? That I can't resist you in that dress?" Santana asks. "Because that's actually true."

"Good. We're definitely using that, then."

…

Rachel drags Santana around as they search out Miles. She knows if she doesn't say hello first thing, it'll be thought of as a slight and so as Santana snatches two chutes of green tinted champagne off a tray, Rachel looks for Miles.

She finds him talking to a couple directors while his hand rests on the ass of his veryyoung looking date. Rachel's willing to bet she's an escort. Or a very desperate actress. It makes her want to vomit. Instead, she accepts the champagne from Santana and puts on her best show smile.

"Rachel Berry is that you?" Miles greets her.

"Nice to see you again, Miles."

"You as well," he replies, leering at her outfit.

"May I introduce my wife, Santana?"

"Nice to meet you, Miles."

"You as well, Santana," Miles replies. "So glad you could join us."

"Thank you for inviting me," Santana replies.

"I hope it didn't interfere with work," Miles continues.

"Thankfully no," Santana says. "I'm not on call this weekend."

"On call?"

"Oh I'm an ADA for the CSU."

"Really?"

"She's an amazing lawyer," Rachel offers.

"Almost as amazing as you are, when you're performing," Santana smirks.

"God you two are just too perfect, aren't you?"

"Well, we try," Rachel says.

"And you succeed admirably," Miles replies. "Please mingle and help yourself to more champagne. Enjoy your evening."

"Thank you Miles."

…

A couple hours later, Santana is exiting the bathroom when she sees Rachel cornered by a tall, older man who has to be either a producer or director. She wonders if she should go join Rachel, but figures she should maybe just wait for Rachel's signal.

Instead, she gets into a discussion about music with a couple of dancers. She still keeps an eye on Rachel, trying to keep her wife in her line of sight. She doesn't trust any of the power players in the room. They're worse than her fellow lawyers.

Santana looks over at one point and sees Rachel boxed in the corner of the room and excuses herself.

She taps the idiot on the shoulder. "Excuse me."

"A bit busy at the moment," he mutters back.

Santana's second tap is much more forceful. "Excuse me."

"What?" he growls, half spinning around.

Santana sees her opening and slides in between him and Rachel.

"What the hell are you doing, bitch?" he growls.

Santana actually winces at the smell of whisky wafting off him. "You need to back off, buddy."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have to make you," Santana retorts.

"Ms. Berry and I were just having a nice conversation, weren't we?" he sneers. "It's none of your damn business."

"Since she's my wife, I beg to differ," Santana replies.

"Wife? Yeah, I heard that. But you ladies are just kidding yourselves."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Santana growls.

"I'm sure you know exactly what I'm getting at," he retorts.

"Stan," Rachel says from behind Santana. "Maybe now would be a good time to go find your wife."

"You don't get to tell me what to do, bitch," Stan grumbles.

"Do not talk to my wife like that," Santana warns.

"You realize I'm not afraid of you little lady," Stan tells her.

"Well you should be," Santana replies. "I've taken down bigger jackasses than you, buddy."

"And I've done plenty to stupid interfering little bitches like you."

"This is your last warning, pal," Santana says. "Back away and you can still leave with dignity."

"If you think I'm going to back down from you, you've obviously had too much to drink."

"I believe you're the one who's had too much to drink tonight, Stan," Rachel says.

"Stay out of this Berry," Stan sneers. "This is between me and the little lady."

Rachel sighs. Glancing around, she sees they've gathered a crowd, though neither Stan or Santana has noticed yet.

"So you're not leaving yet," Santana observes.

"Do your worse, bitch."

Santana smirks. Suddenly her right hand is squeezing Stan's ring and middle finger until cracks are heard and Stan is holding his hand and howling in pain.

"You god damn cunt, you broke my fingers!"

"I did warn you," Santana grins.

"Fucking fuck!" Stan is clenching his hand and whimpering.

A moment later, a young man appears at Stan's side and encourages him to come with. Everyone watches as he's escorted out of the party.

"Who was that guy?" Santana whispers.

"Silverman's assistant, I think."

"Oh."

They don't discuss it any further because they're quickly surrounded by all the bystanders. Santana accepts their admiration and appreciation while hating them for not stepping in to help.

"We're theater people, San," Rachel says when everyone's left and they're sipping champagne in the corner. "They didn't want to interrupt the drama."

"Your people suck," Santana grumbles.

"Well your peers aren't exactly rays of sunshine, are they?"

"I suppose not," Santana agrees. "God, can we go home yet?"

"Not quite."

"You so owe me, babe."

…

"Never a dull moment around you two, it seems," Miles says joining them a few minutes later.

"I'm sorry about that, Miles," Santana says, hating that she has to apologize. "But I'm sure you understand that I can't have anyone harassing my wife."

"Of course not," Miles leers. "I would be disappointed with any other response. If you can't defend your woman, then you don't deserve her."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, I guess."

"Don't worry about it, Santana," Miles assures her. "Stan Vicks is a bigger asshole than I am. And that's saying a lot."

"Um…"

"He should know better to hit on actresses when his wife is here, anyway," Miles continues. "Idiot just can't hold his liquor. Which is sad since alcoholism runs in his family."

"Thank you for handling the aftermath, Miles," Rachel says.

"Anything for you, my dear," Miles grins, eyes firmly on Rachel's chest. "After all, we can't have an actress of your caliber being harassed. What would people think of me if I allowed that to happen?"

"Oh, I'm not sure that I'm really that-"

"Please don't play the false modesty game with me, Rachel," Miles interrupts. "I expect better from you."

"Well, then, thank you for the compliment, Miles."

"Much better. Well, I must say, it's been an interesting night."

"It has indeed," Santana agrees.

"No one would blame you two if you took off," Miles continues. "After such a confrontation, most would assume that you'd want to take your wife home and mark your territory. So to speak."

"Um, well, we were just discussing that," Rachel replies.

"Good. Say your goodbyes then and get out of here," Miles says. "I won't hold it against you."

Rachel nods and Miles bows slightly, before leaving them alone.

"Is he serious?" Santana asks.

"He is," Rachel answers. "And it wouldn't be a bad thing if we did leave. If anything, it probably would help. I mean, everyone does expect my caveman like wife to drag me out of her and reclaim me or whatever."

"Like I said," Santana replies. "Your people are weird."

…

After saying their goodbyes, they pair quickly jumps into an elevator and are on the street before Rachel even knows it.

"Eager much?" Rachel teases as they climb into a cab.

"Just playing my role, dear," Santana retorts after giving the cabbie their address.

"Thank you," Rachel says, leaning against Santana.

"Anytime, babe," Santana replies. "Anytime."