Hey guys, I'm sorry about the wait. I won't promisse next chap will come faster, though. I will promisse, however, that when you guys review me I get more inspirate. hahaha Thanks to everyone following, and I hope you like our 4th girl.

P.S.: I used more than a few quotes from Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, and geek stuff in general. I trust most of you to be as nerdy as I am. Though not as nerdy as Jen here is. :P

4 – Jennifer, the fundamentalist geek

I've been stuck in traffic for the last two hours, so I'm not in a good mood as I park my car and walk down the street, following the address on my phone's screen. I'm not anxious about this date, I'm not nervous. I'm not even pissed off that I had to come to yet another date, after three failures. Honestly, all I can think about is: I need to get laid tonight.

That's as simple as it gets. I need to get laid. It's against human nature having more sex in high school than in college. That's not how God made us to be. That's not how He wants us to behave. It's against natural forces. I need to get laid tonight. I don't care if I'll have to change someone's sexuality or get married. By the end of the night, I'll have a girl in my bed.

I'm still trying to find the address when I bump into someone.

"You're Jennifer," I say when I look at the girl I just ran into.

"You're Santana."

"You're leaving?"

"You're late."

I raise my eyebrow and glance at my watch.

"12 minutes."

"I could be watching Game of Thrones."

"And I could be watching The L Word," I reply thinking of the full-seasons Blue-Ray box Rachel gave me yesterday. She seems more curious about it than I am, but I guess I should own the box since I'm the L Word of the house. "They have an interesting Jenny too, you know. But instead I'm here, so you're going to stay."

Jennifer looks at me seriously, and then shrugs. "I guess I can watch the reprise."

"Great."

"They are really screwing up anyway."

"Who?" I ask as we walk in this weird Irish pub. The waitresses are dressed like leprechauns. I mean... really.

"HBO," Jennifer explains, rolling her eyes. "They totally screwed up this season. I don't understand why is it so hard to follow the books. I mean, George Martin is a complete genius. Why HBO had to turn the roles upside down?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Game of Thrones, silly."

I sigh as we sit in benches at the bar. It's a really small place and I don't see any table available. The walls are covered by posters of bands I don't know. The Weird Sisters? Wait, I've heard of it somewhere.

"I just hate when they compromise the original story to gain audience. Can someone please make those idiots screenwriters read the books? Am I right? Same thing goes with movies. Actually, it's even worse."

"Are we still talking about Game of Thrones?"

"Yes, but not only. There are many examples. Like what they did to Percy Jackson's movies. Ridiculous, right?"

I nod, but I don't fucking understand anything. Percy Jackson isn't like, for kids? And Jennifer is no kid. Looking at her, I would say she's nearly thirty. And that's actually pretty much all I would say.

Maybe she's thin, but as she's wearing a t-shirt – and oh shit, it says "team Edward Cullen" – that is five sizes bigger than it should, I'm really not sure of the shape of her body. I guess her hair could be pretty, but right now it looks like she doesn't brush it for a month, and it's tied with a brown string. Jennifer's face could also be nice, if she wasn't wearing those huge glasses with thick black frame that doesn't really fit her. So, in the end, I don't know if she's beautiful or not, but I sure know she's not trying.

Whatever, I'm still fucking her tonight.

"We should get drinks," I suggest, interrupting her speech. I was not paying much attention, but I guess Jennifer was talking about a boycott to HBO and Warner Bros.

The guy on the bar smiles sympathetically at us.

"I'll have a butterbeer," Jennifer says, making him frown.

"I'm sorry, we don't have it."

"Then a firewhisky," She tries again, then turns her attention to me. "I gotta pee." She walks away before anyone can say anything.

"I knew The Weird Sister's poster was a bad idea," The bartender mumbles.

"Get me two scotches," I ask and he seems relieved. I cannot say the same about Jennifer when she comes back and tastes her drink.

"Ugh. That's not firewhisky." I wonder how the hell she knows the difference.

"They didn't have it."

"They never do," She complains, sipping her regular whisky again. "But I believe that if we keep asking sometime they'll start serving."

"I don't think so. That's New York, not Hogsmeade." I'm not trying to be funny, but Jennifer laughs.

"That's such a shame, right?"

"Not really." She laughs again. I'm thinking over the idea of fucking her. She obviously has a problem identifying funny moments, and I just take foreplay very seriously.

"That just reminds me of last year's Comic Con. Were you there?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I had better things to do."

"Like what?"

"Like living."

"You never went to Comic Con, did you?"

I look at her, measuring my answer. Something tells me that the truth will just end our date. Suddenly, I realize I don't care that much.

"No. I never went to Comic Con. And I never intend to."

"Good!" Jennifer nods emphatically. "There's nothing worst in this planet than people that only care for comics at Comic Con time. The worst kind of people there is."

"Really? What about rapists? Assassins? Pedophiles?"

"Well, at least this people are bad and we know it. Posers are just pretenders. You think they are fans, but they are just... posers."

And she actually manages to put more disgust in that word than I did in pedophiles. It's so ridiculous, so absolutely ridiculous, that I laugh.

"That's not funny!" She spats, indignant. "I've had some bad experiences with this kind of people."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!" Her dark eyes stare at me through the glasses. "I have a comic book store, so you can imagine."

"Not really..."

"Well, let's just say I lost some great and rare comics for people that were only pretending to be fans."

"Lost?"

"Yes. They have money and no ways to spend it, so they just buy anything expensive..."

"Then you sold some comics to..."

"I would never sell to them if I knew!"

"But you have a fucking store!"

"For fans!"

Ok, that's it. I've seen nerds. I've seen geeks. I mean, I dated Sam and he can speak the Avatar's language, for God's sake. But this chick is crazy.

"Kurt must be punishing me for blowing off Candance," I mumble to myself.

"What?"

"Kurt must be punishing me with this date," I repeat in her face.

"Who the hell is Kurt?" Jennifer asks, raising her eyebrow.

A sparkle of hope lights in my chest. She doesn't know Kurt. Then she's not my date. It must have been a mistake. A misunderstanding. My date is still waiting for me somewhere. But... it would be too much of a coincidence. A random Jenny waiting for a random Santana?

"Kurt is the guy who set us up?" I tell her, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't know any Kurt."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"My buddy Blaine said I'd like you."

"Oh. Blaine, right." I sigh, and the sparkle of hope turns to smoke. "I know him too."

"We met at the Hogwarts Convention. His cosplay of Sirius was so cute. And I generally hate cosplays."

"Really? What do you not hate?" I ask and Jennifer smiles.

"You must understand. How could I accept a cosplay of a Weasley that's not even a ginger?"

"It's a goddam cosplay for fans, in a goddam convention where people go to have fun. People dress up so they don't have to worry about who they are, don't you think?"

"No, of course not. Those conventions are serious stuff."

"Who the fuck told you that?!" She's annoying me. She's annoying me so much I don't even wanna fuck her anymore. I just want to leave. "We should end this date."

"What? Why?" Jennifer sounds honestly surprised. She has no social thermometer whatsoever.

"Cause it sucks?"

"I disagree. Let's have another drink," She calls again for the barman and asks for a refill.

I curse mentally because I cannot end the date on my own. That's one of the rules. I never get to call out the date, or Kurt will set me up again in that month. And I do not, by any chance, want to go in more than the predicted 12 dates. I hate all of this shit. Why is it so hard to get to know nice girls, for a change? I've been nice. I've been nice in every date and I'm still getting nothing.

I haven't had sex for months – MONTHS! Because I suppose the make out on Sarah's car after our second date doesn't count. I mean, she has skillful hands and all, but that was just a goodnight kiss that got out of control. It was not meant to be sex. The third date was meant to be the sexual one, but then all my shoes were burned up instead.

"And she was dressed like Princess Lea, as if I would love that so much, but Princess Lea has a golden bikini, everybody knows it, and..."

"I don't care," I say, just to say something. I don't know what Jennifer is talking about now, because I really – REALLY – don't care. But I guess she doesn't care that I don't care and keeps talking.

I look around, looking for a salvation. Maybe if there's another lesbian in the room, I could make a move. With a little bit of lucky, it would piss Jennifer off enough for her to end the date. I even want to see Sarah hiding there somewhere, but she's not around. Bitch. She's been following me everywhere, but tonight she won't show up.

I have to do something by myself.

"I once wrote a Harry Potter fanfiction, but I never read the books," I let out with a defiant look. It's a lie in every way. I read the books. Some of them. Sort of. And I've never written a fanfiction, but I sure read a lot of them. I mean, Hermione and Ginny team forever.

Yuk, her geekness is contaminating me.

"Well, it could be worst," Jennifer replies, making me sigh. I was so sure she would consider me a poser and throw me out in the street! "If you never read the books, you're not truly a fan. Then, your mistake is forgivable."

"My mistake?"

"Yes. Fanfics are like heresy."

"In what world?"

"Ours! Think about it. The Bible has a lot of readers, and Jesus has a lot of fans, but nobody thinks it's just ok to see random people writing ridiculous stories where he fucks Peter."

"This is so out of line," I mutter through greeted teeth.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Jennifer rolls her eyes at me again, like I'm stupid. "How can anyone be a fan of something and, at the same time, believe they can change everything? I mean, have you seen the stuff there's out there? There are Hermione/Snape fanfictions. Jesus, that makes me sick."

"Well, you make me sick. You know, that's what people call entertainment. If you like something very much, you want to be part of it. That's why people go to conventions, and dress cosplays, and write fanfictions. I'm far from being a geek, but you are far from being a fan of anything. You're a fundamentalist!"

"You're very exalted." Jennifer bites her lower lip for a moment and sips her new drink. "But I'll tell you why you're wrong..."

"Fuck."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. I was not trying to sound interesting. Why, God, why?

"Look, this is the worst date I've had in my life. And I'm counting Finn Hudson's first time with a girl. I mean it. This date is shit, but I can't walk away or I'll have to go to another one next week."

"I see you're getting sentimental about our conversation. But you see, fanfics are like ghost writers. It's not about the original thing anymore. That's why..."

She won't stop. There's not any other lesbian in this place. Sarah's not around. It's too public for me to kill Jennifer and leave quietly. I have no other choice. I get my phone out of my purse and start playing Candy Crush Saga.

Sad thing is, ten minutes later, I'm out of lives. I try Tetris for some time, but Jennifer is still talking, I'm in my fifth drink and getting a little drunk, the colorful parts are not going to the right places anymore. I look for fanfictions just to provoke Jennifer, but she's not paying attention in what I'm doing.

Salvation comes to me in the form of a text.

"How's your date going?"

"Terrible. Save me, pls."

"You say that every time."

"I mean it, Rachel. She's a fundamentalist geek.SOS."

"Get out of there, then."

"Can't. Kurt will set me up again."

"Tell your grandma died or something."

"U crazy, Berry? Shut up, words have power. Won't say that."

"OK, sorry. Make up an old uncle in the hospital, then."

"I won't kill relatives. And must be something that will make her never look for me again."

"Uhm… say U have the claps?"

"Ugh. No way. She might spread the word."

"I give up."

"Come help me! You said you would if I asked."

"How?"

"I don't care. Anyway you want. Just hurry."

"Anyway I want?"

"Yes."

"OK. Send me the address."

I do so, and hope Rachel will grow wings and fly over here before I lose my mind.

"Can we talk about anything else?" I ask Jennifer, sighing heavily.

"Sure. Star Wars is not for everyone," She agrees, sipping her drink. "But I'm sure you appreciate Lord of the Rings."

"No, anything else. Different. Enough of books and movies and tv series and fandons!"

"Oh." She looks at me seriously for a moment, and then shakes her head. "You're not very instructed, are you?"

"Oh my God! Are you kidding me? You think I don't read?"

"You obviously don't have much reference."

"I just have a fucking life! I go out and talk to people. I try to be nice." That's not completely true. "Sometimes, at least. I sure tried to be nice with you. I even thought about fucking you, even though you would probably be all like 'haven't you read kamasutra? That's not how this position is described, you poser'. So help me God, I'm this close to slap you."

Jennifer laughs again, loudly. "Oh Jesus, you may not be much of a brain, but you sure is funny." I clench my teeth in attempt to control myself. "And also kinda hot, so I'll give you another chance."

"I don't want another chance!"

"Shut up, I'll take it easy on you. Let's talk about... gymnastic?"

Breathe, Santana, breathe. Remember those yoga exercises Rachel taught you. All those anger control thoughts Kurt made you practice when you moved in. Breathe. Imagine your Happy Place. Yes, I'm lying on a cotton candy bed and I know Shakira will show up at any moment, because in my Happy Place Shakira's always around.

So, in the next twenty minutes it doesn't matter what Jennifer says, all I hear is the musical background of my Happy Place. Estoy aquí, queriéndote... Unfortunately, it's just this sentence over and over again because I can never remember what comes after. Funny thing is that Rachel has this song all figured out and her Spanish is not even that good. I guess she just has a damn ear for songs.

"Santana Lopez!" I shake my head, amused that I could evoke her voice so clearly just of thinking about it. "Is that really you?"

I blink and get back to reality. I did not evoke Rachel's voice. She's here. Finally! But wait, did she just ask if it was really me?

"Ahm..."

"Oh my God!" She exclaims dramatically, looking at me with her big brown eyes. "You're in a date, aren't you?"

"Well..." I really don't know what she's doing.

"Who's that bitch?" Rachel asks, giving Jennifer such an angry glance that gets me amazed. I don't know what she's trying to pull off, but she's a great actress.

"I'm Jennifer," She says when I do not answer. "Jennifer Hates."

"Jennifer Hates?" I repeat and she nods.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Wrong? Nothing. It's just right," I answer, laughing.

"Are you screwing this girl?" Rachel goes on. I cough.

"What! No... No way, I'm not."

"Don't lie to me, Santana."

"Who the hell are you?" Jennifer asks, seeming pissed off. Man, Rachel did in one minute what I've been trying to do all night long!

"I'm her wife!"

"What the f-" I begin, rising from the bench, but Rachel's eyes shut me up.

"What? Will you deny? Will you deny our love, our home, our past, our story?"

"Is she serious, Santana?" Jennifer asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, we do share a home..."

"And love!"

"Rachel."

"I can't believe you're cheating on me!" Her eyes are suddenly teary. "Don't you remember our vows?"

"Not really..."

"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. That's why we should always be together!"

"Ahm..."

"Jesus Christ! You quoted Ned Stark in vain?" Jennifer's expression is perplexed.

"I guess... Maybe?"

"I thought you were just a naive fool." Jennifer turns to Rachel and shakes her head. "I didn't know about you."

"She changes her mind a lot." There are tears in Rachel's cheeks and Jennifer gives her a napkin. "I don't know why I always fall for that. She told me we would travel the world, searching for the Death Hollows together. We would conquer death and live our love forever, like... like... Bella and Edward!"

Jennifer's expression gets more and more shocked. When she stares at me again through her glasses, her gaze is so cold that I get chills.

"How could you go so low?" She asks me in a disgusted tone.

"Rachel, baby, I think you're overreacting."

"Am I? Am I?" She sobs a little, and I start to freak out a bit. "What do I have to do to make you understand? Do I have to sing about it?" Rachel breathes in deeply. "I'll have to sing about it!"

"No!" I shout. "No singing."

"Please, don't sing about it," Jennifer mumbles and I think she's a little freaked out too. "See, it's getting late and I better go. You sit here and talk," She says, nodding again.

Jennifer takes a few bucks out of her pocket and lays them at the bar before turning to Rachel.

"Tribute, may the odds be ever in your favor."

She still gives me a reprimand look before leaving the place.

I'm still dizzy when Rachel takes her place by my side. Her teary eyes are gone and there's a highly amusing smile curving her lips.

"What the hell was that?"

"That was me screwing up your date with no coming back. You're welcome."

"You're crazy, you know?"

"Come on, you had fun!"

"How did you know... all of that geek stuff?"

"There's this awesome thing I found called... ahm... Google?"

"But it took you twenty minutes to get here!"

"Santana, baby, you're talking to a Tony Award nominee, please," Rachel scoffs. "I can get into a character in half this time."

It's my time scoff, because I sure won't let her see I'm kinda impressed. And I sure won't tell her how grateful I am. "Do you want a drink or something?" I ask instead.

"I guess you owe me one."

"Maybe two." I shrug and Rachel laughs.

"Maybe."

"Can you do me another favor?"

"What is it?"

"Can you sing me Queriéndote, from Shakira? I'm crazy here trying to remember the lyrics."

"You see, there's this awesome thing called Google..."

"Come on, Rach." I pout a little and she smiles.

"I knew you wanted me to sing about it."

And as she starts, really low, just for me to listen, I think that actually... I always want her to sing about anything.