Rachel couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty after sitting there, pretending to listen to music while she eavesdropped on Santana's conversation. She had, initially, been listening to music, but the start of their conversation filtered through, and she found herself lowering the volume so she could listen in. She was, after all, a curious individual. From the way that Santana glanced at her, it had seemed that the woman hadn't planned on her hearing, but Rachel was glad she had; it was easy to see past her partially sincere message to the festering insecurities Santana had over her own work.
Insecurity was something Rachel was very familiar with. Even setting aside her self-image issues, she had tirelessly practiced her vocals throughout the years because it was what she knew would make up for everything else that she lacked in, which meant she could be no worse than perfect. Everything she dreamed of relied on her voice, and if she wasn't the best at it, she'd only be as good as her worst qualities. At least, that's how she understood life as a twenty-something, far distanced from her bright-eyed naïveté she owned in her teens; not that the bubbly, optimistic girl wasn't still a part of her, she just couldn't let that part of herself out as often. At least, not until she'd reached her own dreams, so she understood Santana's restraint in singing her own work. It was a leap, and one that could end in failure, raised noses and eyebrows, alongside grimaces. Rachel had been to open-mic shows before; she'd experienced many sub-par singer-songwriters and had seen such reactions. Heck, she'd made such expressions before.
But she knew Santana's voice well and it was about as made for radio as anyone's. On top of that, she knew the girl was creative; Rachel had seen the Santana's lyrics, and even aside from that one song she'd sneaked a peek on, the rest seemed to be rather well written, with a visible flow. It simply didn't seem that her friend could disappoint the crowd, or especially the little girl that they'd won over in the span of a few hours. All Rachel knew was that she had to pry a little bit, test the waters to make her feel a bit better about the prospect, because as much as she did want to hear Santana's work, she wanted Santana to want to sing her own work more.
Rachel slipped off her IEMs a minute or so after the conversation, hoping her action was rather inconspicuous, and looked over to Santana, whose eyes were gently shut. She smiled at the faint upward curl of the other woman's lips, glad to see she was still in a good mood. "Do you want to find a better place to sleep, or should we just camp out here?" she asked softly, stifling a yawn. All that singing hadn't done much to wear out her voice, but she was tired anyway, especially after her early morning start.
Santana gave a simple shrug and leaned a little further back against her luggage; the fact that the woman hadn't opened her eyes either meant she was upset or tired, and Rachel was betting on the latter being accurate. "Here's good." Santana replied with a growing, content smile.
Now that their sleeping quarters had been decided, Rachel felt that it would be an alright time to push the envelope a little bit, in regards to Santana's previous conversation. "Did I tell you I sing at a lounge?" she asked as innocently and offhandedly as she could manage. "I mean, it's only when I'm in town, and it's part time, but it pays the bills when stage work gets few and far between."
Santana looked at her with a fair bit of confusion, seemingly mind-boggled by the statement. Rachel did suppose that she could have allowed for a smoother lead-in, but the slow smile on Santana's face made her feel like maybe it hadn't been necessary. "I bet you're really great at it." The woman noted warmly, her eyes darting upward for a moment as she slipped into her thoughts. "Probably good practice for your career, too."
"Have you ever tried something like that?" Rachel asked, hoping she wasn't coming off as too obviously concerned; Santana had seemed skittish when it came to discussing her means of making a living, and Rachel just wanted to try and help her know there were options out there for people with voices like hers. "Your smoky, bluesy voice could really work that sort of scene."
"I've tried some of that kind of stuff, but…well, I haven't been able to lock down a gig or anything yet." I've been doing, um…other things." Santana said, her voice trailing off as she mumbled the last two words.
Rachel couldn't help but be a little worried at the darkened expression on her friend's face, even though it didn't last long. It wasn't a look she liked gracing Santana's features. She moved to place a hand over one of Santana's, but it immediately slipped away from hers, the other woman resting her hands in her lap instead as she averted her gaze. "Just don't judge me, okay?"
Rachel nodded as calmly as she could manage, fear bubbling in her gut over Santana's antsy, defensive behavior. "I understand the starving artist stereotype well, Santana. I promise that whatever you have to say won't change how I see you."
Her words seemed to calm the taller woman, who slumped forward a bit and let out a heavy sigh, showing a weariness that Santana had hid from her throughout most of the day. "I work between ten and twenty hours a week at a small coffee-shop…it's nice, and I get tips, but it doesn't really pay enough to cover rent and utilities or anything, you know? And I do open-mic nights a lot, and that fills up a bunch of my spare time, so I don't end up with much of an opportunity to make more money." Santana rambled out flatly; Rachel knew the woman had never worn her heart on her sleeve, but it was pretty clear that she was trying to distance herself emotionally from what she was saying, and that only made her worry more, and wish she could at least hold the other woman's hand. "So I…I work at this club, two or three nights a week, and that helps make up the difference, pays for food…helps with tour costs."
"What club is it?" Rachel asked, her voice betraying her, letting out more emotion into those three words than she'd intended, and Santana's immediate reaction was something she probably deserved. The girl's facial features were steely, warning her against any such outbursts, but her eyes were pleading her not to make a big thing about it. So Rachel took a few breaths and stilled her emotions as best she could. She couldn't help that she was an emotional person, Santana knew that quite well.
"It doesn't matter, okay? You won't ever go there, and that's for the best. It…" Santana started hesitantly, and Rachel could tell she was doing an immensely poor job at steeling her emotions, and as seeming unaffected, if Santana's expression was anything to go by. "Hey, it's okay, alright? It's just dancing and…and no one's allowed to touch, they make sure of that. And it's just temporary, until I get on my feet."
She couldn't help but feel guilty. Sure, it seemed a bit self-absorbed to think that one misguided and malicious statement she'd made in high school sent Santana down that sort of path, but she couldn't shake the feeling that if not for her, the girl could have made money in other ways. Less exploitative ways, less dangerous ways. She knew Santana's self esteem wasn't all that sturdy, and during their time together, the woman had taken jobs that played off of her body; she just didn't want Santana to think that was all she was good for. She didn't want Santana to do anything like that, a job that would only play on her insecurities.
Rachel must not have realized she was stewing on Santana's words, because she only had time to see a brief eye-roll before she was being abruptly pulled out of her thoughts and into a comforting hug. It really did make her feel better about it all, as silly as that was. "I get a few dollars from open-mic night too…and I need them to spread my own material, okay?" Santana whispered, her breath soft and hot on Rachel's ears, only causing her to further melt into the embrace as she nodded. "I can't sing in clubs because I'd be singing covers all night…it won't help my career."
Again, Rachel just nodded, nearly all she could really work up the energy to do as she rested in Santana's arms. "I just wish you were happier." She stated, knowing Santana wasn't content with being a barista or an exotic dancer. That she was more than a little ashamed. Rachel wasn't content about the taller woman's jobs either; not that either were poor professions, necessarily. She just wanted the best for Santana, and her friend's dreams didn't rest in either of those occupations. "What will you do when you get back to New York?"
She felt Santana shrug against her, and couldn't help but enjoy the familiarity of the gesture. Santana shrugged at everything. It was her thing, but the woman had different shrugs for different emotions and moods; while Rachel could only read into it as Santana being confused, that just meant that she could use some good old fashioned Rachel Berry guidance. "Not sure. Probably the same shit I've been doing lately, but maybe I should take a break from that. Find a new job…find something better. Maybe I just need a new direction, pun intended."
Rachel found the strength in her soul to pull away from the woman, needing to talk face-to-face with Santana, because she wasn't about to let her give up quite yet. "When we were playing earlier? I'm not sure I've ever seen you so happy. Maybe when we won nationals, but that's it…" Rachel stated fervently, cheering internally at the faint blush on Santana's cheeks, even if the woman averted her gaze. "That's worth holding onto, Santana. It's what gets you by in the meantime that needs to change, and I'll help…if you want me to."
Santana bit into her lovely lower lip a little, and Rachel had to force herself not to stare, especially as it spread into a rare shy smile. "Maybe…" the woman said softly, before yawning, her hand fortunately blocking the alluring view, allowing Rachel to move her gaze to anywhere else."You tired too?"
She nodded and slid over beside Santana, resting for a moment against the luggage as well. "I'll probably go to sleep soon, but I want to do one last thing before that."
Santana's eyebrow quirked up at her in curiosity, and she knew she had her hooked. "And what would that be? It's not like there's a lot to do around here." Her friend stated, clearly going over a scattered, unorganized list of things in her head that could be done in an airport late at night.
Rachel gave the inquisitive woman an impish smile as she grabbed her bag of hygiene products. "Well, I tend to have some entertainment during my nightly hygiene regimen, so I want to download your album to my phone and listen to it while I exfoliate, clean and moisturize."
She held back her snickering as Santana turned away, groaning dramatically at the suggestion, even if that light blush from before had shifted into a darker rosy shade. "Ugh, it's kind of rough, but…if you REALLY want to, you can listen for free or whatever."
Rachel, however, had already opened the woman's website on her phone, and was inputting her credit card information to purchase the album. "Nonsense, paying ten dollars for an album isn't much of a financial risk, and music is always something I'm willing to take a risk on." She stated confidently, earning a huff from the woman beside her.
Without further word, Rachel gathered her supplies and stood up, happy to see that the album was downloading quickly. With a wave, she parted company with Santana and made her way to the nearest washroom. By the time she found one with a reasonable amount of people inside, the album was on her phone and queued up, ready for playback, which she started as soon as she began cleaning her face.
Honestly, she'd expected something entirely different. Rachel had thought that Santana would have gone for a Billie Holliday sort of vibe, Amy Winehouse or even something along the lines of Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, but what she got was very different. And it was a big shock.
What she heard, for the duration of the album, was this dreamy pop/rock sounding music that was entirely intriguing. If she'd been primed with the information beforehand, she couldn't have imagined taking it seriously, because it wasn't something that immediately came to mind with Santana's voice, but the result was a silky smooth, layered album without much weakness, despite the production being obviously of a lower quality. Rachel couldn't imagine Santana had the money to pay for major studio time or anything, but the production value sort of added character to it all, made it seem dreamier and more intimate. The only complaint she could muster was that it lacked a track or two that really showed off Santana's vocal power; even still, so many of the songs revealed that the woman had really worked on her control and range, and that she had the creativity to play with that talent. Rachel couldn't help but be reminded a little of Leslie Feist, which, again, was entirely unexpected. It made for a good performance of her vocal abilities, she just wished that some of that fiery power from their teenage years was on the album. Rachel still got chills just thinking about the woman's part in the Adele mash-up during senior year. She missed that glorious fire and the energy she felt whenever Santana embraced it.
Yet, when the album finished with this surprisingly intimate acoustic number that Rachel honestly didn't think she had in her, she couldn't help but be wholly satisfied. Yet, she also couldn't help but be confused. Sure, she understood that the music Santana had recorded wasn't ideal for open-mic nights with a single acoustic guitar, but with even a little bit of whatever technology she used to fill out the tracks, it would have been close enough to what was recorded. And the recorded material was very much worth listening to.
When she'd left to do her nightly ritual, she'd been entirely aware that Santana was incredibly anxious, so it wasn't a surprise that the woman was scribbling away on her notepad yet again. Rachel grinned excitedly as she approached, a plan forming in her mind.
Santana honestly wasn't sure what to do or say when Rachel got back, it was something she struggled with over the three quarters of an hour that Berry was gone. When she spotted her approaching at the last second, she realized she was nowhere near having any response ready. Santana knew how critical Rachel was when it came to music; it was something the diva always took incredibly seriously. Glee club had borne the brunt of her criticisms and corrections for years, usually on breath control, pitch and whatnot, with the smaller girl often forcing them into exercises to improve their technique. Sure, it had all been helpful, but also damn annoying, and Rachel would often tear people apart if she was given the opportunity for 'honest critique'. She always held everyone else to her own vocal standards, so no one ever matched up, and it was a struggle just to be what the diva probably considered adequate. Santana knew that Rachel was just pushing them so hard because she knew they all could take it, that they had great potential, but it had still sucked. She'd spent many a depressing night alone in her room during her high school years, pushing aside her dreams of singing for a living, so it had been entirely confusing that Rachel, of all people, had pushed her back into her dream later on in New York.
Which was why she wasn't entirely freaking out, but she knew the diva would be honest, and that Rachel's version of honesty often hurt when it came. So Santana braced herself mentally before she even considered speaking a word. "So…how was it?" she asked, trying to hide the fact that she was nervous as hell.
She saw Rachel smile, and wanted to feel better, but the words that spilled from her lips reminded her of why she trusted her gut, and not the girl's disarming grin. "Well, my routine was unimpeded by the sleepy masses, although it was rather crowded in the washrooms, and I'm sure this older lady kept asking me for something, but I have a set routine and time limit, and I wasn't about to abandon it. And it was difficult coping with the fact that I'm missing some pivotal products that I had sadly run out of here, and couldn't find adequate replacements for, but I suppose that wasn't such a terrible issue." The diva rambled nonchalantly, Santana biting her cheek as she glared at the brunette; there was no way in hell that Rachel could have imagined she'd been interested in her routine. In fact, she recalled a time when she specifically told Rachel to never inform her of her routine again.
And, of course, Rachel burst out into laughter as soon as their gazes met, the woman falling into uncontrollable gales of loud, over-done amusement. Seriously, it wasn't that funny. It was only natural to freak out a bit, so she gave Rachel a jab to her shoulder to show her that the rant was far from amusing. Even if she would have done the same if Rachel was in her shoes. "Jerk." She muttered, returning to her notepad, because at least it wouldn't make fun of her, although it didn't have the capacity to, so she supposed it didn't really count for much.
"You…you just looked so nervous, I couldn't help but play around with you a bit." Rachel said between laughs, her intensity at least starting to die down, as the diva wiped tears of amusement away. "But seriously, it was surprising. I wasn't expecting that musical direction, but you made it work."
Santana noted the pause in the air after the girl's statement, knowing that Rachel had a lot more to say than those few words. "And?"
The diva let out a sigh and gave her an apologetic look, and Santana braced herself for impact. She'd thought all the thoughts and criticism already, anyway. She could take it. If it was Rachel, she knew it would at least be honest and helpful, so she'd take it. "The only real downside was that it lacked that fiery delivery that always instilled your performances with so much passion…the album has passion, but it's more of a subtle, natural passion, and while that fits your sound better, I can't help but feel you're capable of giving more fire. I kind of missed your vocal power, even if I know it may not have been the best album, thematically, to showcase it. It was honestly really soothing and intriguing…I can't really say much else without seeing you perform it live to discern if you need work on your breathing or anything, but as is, as an album, it's strong. I really liked it."
Santana didn't know exactly how to respond to that; she had expected a long list of criticisms, of tips to improve her music, but she'd mostly been given compliments. It was weird. She'd gone months without much of any positive feedback on the album, and it hadn't seemed very popular among the places she played, but Rachel liked it, so that meant it had to be good. Rachel had an amazing ear for quality, and if something was good, she would admit it even if it wasn't to her tastes. So she was really confused, and could only really shrug at her friend's words. "I, uh…I'll have a lot more power in the next album, I guess. I've almost got enough good ones to make a more bluesy rock-oriented album."
"Is the song you've been writing going to be on it?" The diva asked, and Santana froze a bit, paranoid that her friend may have seen it. She didn't really like presenting anything of hers until it was polished and perfect, or perfect according to what she wanted it to be. But then she realized that she'd been writing a lot throughout the day, and it was only fair to assume she was writing new material, so she let herself relax.
"It could be, maybe, if I like it enough. Right now it's just there for venting purposes, and it's kind of closer to punk-rock than anything, but…it might, if I can make it fit the album's sound." She answered with another shrug. Honestly, she hadn't considered putting it on an album; Santana had written a lot of songs, only a handful considered for recording because she never felt confident just putting herself out there. The closing track on her album was the only one she'd felt comfortable with recording and playing live, but there were dozens of tracks laying on her computer that hadn't seen production. Despite committing to the career, she still found it really hard to be vulnerable in front of others. The last time she'd done it, she'd wound up at her apartment, just shaking for the rest of the night. Just like in glee, she always felt she needed someone there supporting her, either on stage or in the audience, to just help her through it. To let her know she wasn't making a fool of herself.
She felt brave enough to glance over at Rachel, finding wide, hopeful brown eyes. "Will…will you play it for me someday?" the brunette asked, biting her pouting lower lip, and there was no way she could just say no. It wasn't fair. Santana wanted to be frustrated at how Berry was totally guilt-tripping her into it with her pout, but all she could really do is wonder if the girl's eyes had always been so undeniably beautiful. It was something to think about, for sure. Like, when she wasn't staring into the girl's deep, mocha brown eyes. Because seriously, she wasn't a creeper, and she could control herself.
"When it's ready…sure, whatever." She mumbled, and Rachel seemed incredibly pleased with that answer as the diva pulled out two blankets from her luggage, that was apparently an endless pit. Seriously, Santana couldn't help but wonder how so much was packed into such a tiny space. Leave it to Rachel Berry to buck the laws of physics.
Santana took one of the blankets Rachel handed to her and looked at the pink monstrosity questioningly. She'd recalled it from her time in the apartment; it was the one Rachel would use when she would watch a sad movie, when she was feeling under the weather, but not particularly sick, or when she was just in the mood for some cool weather snuggling. Rachel must have taken her momentary pause as a sign of confusion, though, because she noticed the girl hold her own up.
"This is a blanket, Santana. Step one, is you wrap it around yourself, or cover your body to a comfortable degree. Step two, you let it keep you warm, and you sleep." The diva stated impishly, and Santana could only shake her head at the absurdity.
"I know what a blanket is, thanks." She stated, watching the brunette shift around their luggage for some inexplicable reason, before the diva pulled out a pillow. Seriously, how does all that fit into that little piece of luggage?!
Rachel's plan, though, eventually started to make sense as soon as she laid down her and Santana's coats in this self-made nook between their luggage and the wall. She watched at the woman stretched, even though Santana honestly really tried not to look. She definitely appreciated all sorts of women's bodies, and Rachel had a damn fine one, which she could say objectively as the brunette nestled into her little spot, having a clear view of the diva's curves, even hidden under slightly loose clothing.
Santana looked around, wondering where she'd set up with her single blanket, now that Rachel had thieved her coat at a temporary mattress. Just as she started moving toward the seats, deciding that her legs might be able to fit through the spaces under the armrests, she heard a sleepy Rachel Berry call out to her. "Saaaaaan." The diva's voice was slightly disgruntled, and quite a bit slurred from pre-sleep, and Santana couldn't help but look over at her friend, who was squinting at her, only her head visible with the blanket over her. On top of that, Rachel's pout was once again in full force, and that just didn't make sense. No one that sleepy should wield such power. "Come on, stop fooling around. I want to go to sleep."
Santana felt her eyebrows rise at the remark, glad that Rachel was content to roll onto her side and huff in displeasure instead of further giving her the full-pout treatment. "You…want me to sleep in there with you?" she asked cautiously, because while it would be kind of preferable to any other sleeping situation in sight, she didn't really want to assume anything.
"Duh." The tiny diva grumbled, her eyes staring half-lidded again at Santana. It was clear that Rachel was really close to sleep, and clearly wanted Santana to get in and comfortable, so she wouldn't be disrupted.
She just cocked her head and walked over to the little nook, peeling off her shoes before slipping in right beside Berry; it was a snug fit, but it worked, and with both of their blankets covering them, and their coats beneath them, it would probably be toasty. Which was awesome, considering it was winter, and she was used to her cold bedroom and her thin sheets. Even being the one closest to the wall wasn't bad, with Rachel's body heat emanating around her. In short, she wasn't about to complain at all.
But then she felt Rachel 's body shifting against her front, and again she held a mixture of confusion and happiness, because it was kind of nice to sleep with someone again, even if it was in an airport surrounded by strangers, with an old friend. It had been a long time; seriously, it had been years since she'd just slept with someone, with no sex involved, and even THAT was a rare occurrence.
Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around the diva nestled against her; she couldn't suppress her smile soon afterward as Rachel held her hands in place with her own. Santana, throughout the day, had expected the delay to last through the night, but she hadn't expected access to a pillow, a blanket, and a warm body. She was kinda thrilled to have them, even if it was just for one night. It was good to have Rachel back, even if it was for one night; Santana couldn't help but feel, as she dozed off, that her horrible day had turned out pretty great in the end.
Rachel woke to a dimly lit hallway, and was thankful that the airport officials had lowered the lighting, considering they were all snowed in, and no one had anywhere to go in the wee hours of the night. They'd gone to bed around ten in the evening, Rachel recalled, perhaps quarter after, so her usual seven hours of sleep would have ensured that it was still rather early. She kind of wanted to check her phone, but it was in her luggage, and that would have meant leaving her spot under the blankets with Santana; she felt entirely cozy, held snugly against the taller woman's body, warm steady breaths ghosting on her neck. It was really, really nice. Rachel hadn't woken like that in a long time, and didn't want to waste such a rare opportunity.
She couldn't help but smile sleepily and recall all the times that she and Santana had woken up on the couch together, back when they'd lived in the same apartment. It was just as nice then as it was in the airport, and she just wished she'd known then what she knew now. She wasn't blind; thinking back, she knew that Santana had some level of attraction to her. Rachel had seen the girl stare at her one or two times when she'd scurried from the bathroom to her 'bedroom' in just a towel. Of course, back then, she chalked it up to Santana just trying to get a rise out of her by giving her a once over but after a year or two of thinking, it became clear that Santana had legitimately checked her out a few times.
And it wasn't like Santana wasn't attractive as well. After her junior year, Rachel had become aware that she could have interest in other girls. She just wasn't certain she could have romantic affiliation with them, and certainly wasn't sure that it would have been worth risking her potentially newfound friendship with Santana. So she hadn't tried back then, and she wasn't sure if she could risk their second attempt at friendship so soon.
Her test the previous night, seeing if Santana would sleep with her, was a major success in her books. It meant that, after all those years, Santana was still comfortable with her on that level, which was promising. Rachel just wasn't sure if they could be anything more than slightly intimate friends. Not that she felt they needed to be, but Rachel was really lonely, and she liked Santana. She'd come to terms with really liking Santana, and giving love a chance again, no matter where she found it. And honestly, she really, really wanted to find it with Santana. Rachel just felt that with the other woman, her luck could change.
Rachel also couldn't help but feel that they still knew each other extraordinarily well, despite the years between them, which only added more intrigue, she felt. And the mere thought of Santana stripping or dancing, or whatever she did at that club, incited more than a little arousal and jealousy. I suppose I should consider that more thoroughly…I should make proper time to really be sure of my emotions before I commit, but…at the same time, I already really want to ask her to move in with me, and help me find a new place for us to live. Is that too stereotypically lesbian of me? Because I'm not a lesbian, but I know the U-Haul jokes, and I know she'd totally call me on it, and it's frustrating when I live up to such base humour. Besides, if she's having financial issues, it would help her save on rent, meaning she wouldn't have to work at that club, and I wouldn't feel jealous. But then I'd have to…
Her thoughts were suddenly disrupted by a pair of arms squeezing her gently, the taller girl's cheek nuzzling her own as she was pulled further against Santana's warm, soft body. "Shhh…less thinkin', more sleepin'."
Rachel stifled a giggle and decided to concede to the woman's demands, closing her eyes and letting her body drift closer to sleep. Which, honestly, wasn't difficult considering whose arms were holding her. There would be time for thinking later. For now, she'd enjoy the moment.
A/N: Sorry this took so long. I've been working on a LOT of stuff lately. This, the Province sequel (first chapter's nearing completion), all the one shots I've been writing, my Mass Effect fic, and a few fics I've been keeping close to my chest. It's been very hectic, and on top of that, I've been trying to fill a vacancy in my apartment, which has taken up a lot of my time as well. And I won't be able to write much on Friday because I'll be traveling, doing chores, and spending time with my family. So this weekend could be slow when it comes to publishing, but I have some stuff I finished just in case (one shots, of course, though the Province sequel could e released if I can get the work done on it that I need to do). Not sure if I'll do a special birthday release on Saturday, but I might have something prepared. Might not. Not sure if I feel comfortable posting it yet. It's more serious material, and niche at that, so…who knows.
Anywho, thanks so much for all your support, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)
Guest Reviews:
-Guest14: Haha, yeah, I kind of wanted to write a little exuberant mini-Berry. It seemed like a fun idea, and it turned out pretty fun.
-janna: Aww, I'm glad you're excited :) I get excited writing this too, and it's just nice to know when readers feel the same way :D And yeah, my head-canon Santana loves and makes music, and I ship pezberry, so it gives me plenty of excuses to really have a big love-fest over music. Because really…music's a wonderful thing.
-Guest: Glad you enjoyed it! :D