A/N: Thanks to SilverFoxCFL for the review with the link to the Sonia Sanchez poem that relates to her interaction with Quinn in the last installment. If you're curious: black-collegian issues/ 30thAnn/ binding2001- 30th. shtml (no spaces).
Also, mild Buffy spoilers in this update.
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Wait for me I have to go now into the big city
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The drive to New York is unexpectedly pleasant, even if he and Puck don't talk much. They listen to a lot of music; Kurt huffs when Puck puts on Motley Crue but ultimately smiles, and Puck grumbles a bit when Kurt plays the Spice Girls but ultimately ends up tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Puck also doesn't seem to mind the fact that he's driving the whole way. Kurt offers, knowing pretty well that he'll be rejected, and as he predicted, Puck says, "Dude, Finn's lucky I let him touch this when we road tripped. No offense, but this is my baby."
"I understand completely," Kurt nods, because he does; growing up with his father means he understands very well the bond between man and car. He may not have yet found his auto-soulmate, but he gets it.
At one point, Puck asks out of the blue, "Heard much from Finn?"
Kurt shrugs, "A couple letters. Carole and Dad get more, and he's called them a few times. He doesn't much like writing letters, but he'll do it because he misses us."
Puck nods, an unreadable expression on his face, but it's one Kurt doesn't want to ask about—the way Puck's eyebrows then furrow, Kurt figures it's best to drop the subject. He knows Puck must miss his best friend.
It's early evening when they near Kurt's new apartment, and Puck curses as he navigates through the cramped rush-hour New York streets, and Kurt screeches directions at him when they finally get moving and get stuck in the flow of traffic, always seeming to almost miss their turns. Puck careens around like a racecar driver, boxes jolting in the bed of the truck, which earns him horns and middle fingers that he gives right back. "If you scraped my dresser, I swear to god!" Kurt shouts, but then he can't help but smile, "However, I do think you'd fit in here," he says when they have a moment to breathe.
Puck gives a deep chuckle, "Being an asshole in a small city makes you a normal here, huh?"
Kurt texts Rachel that they've arrived and within a minute, Rachel and Santana are bursting out of the building and smothering him and Puck in hugs. The hug from Rachel—which knocks the air out of him—he expects, but Santana, barely dressed in a tank top and short shorts, giving him a firm hug, and giving Puck a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek, is completely unexpected. He and Puck share the same surprised look.
They're kind of a strange group, Kurt realizes. Rachel is…well, she's still his best friend, even if things have been weird, and he wants badly to work on that. Santana…she's not someone he's close to, but as the other token McKinley Gay, he feels an inescapable connection with her. She and Puck are ex-fuck buddies, weirdly enough, and seem to oscillate between annoyance and affection. He and Puck don't have much in common at all except a measure of mutual respect—he couldn't help but respect the guy who showed up to Glee in drag because he thought somebody had to do it. And Puck and Rachel? Another set of weird not-quite-exes. But, he has to admit that he's noticed Puck had always had Rachel's back. Even when Finn was too embarrassed to stick up for his own girlfriend in Glee, Puck would—he was probably the first of them to admit to actually liking Rachel. And Puck had been instrumental in the Barbra-vention. He can't help but be happy to see the two of them reunited.
And Rachel and Santana? He guesses he'll find out. They had been slightly awkward, but friendly together all summer, which had been weird enough, but now they'll be sharing a room? Kurt's morbidly fascinated by this development.
Puck and Santana grab Kurt's dresser, which makes Kurt feel slightly guilty so he huffs, "Oh sure, let the lesbian take the heavy stuff," which just earns him a Puck leer and a sarcastic Santana scowl. He and Rachel drag the bedframe pieces out, but wait until Puck and Santana come back before heading up, and they continue that way, making sure to never leave the truck unattended.
After everything is in the house, Kurt and Puck get a brief tour. Puck mostly just nods in approval at everything, but Kurt tells them he wishes the living room furniture actually matched but he sort of likes the wall decorations and asks if he can rearrange and add his own; after both rolling their eyes at the slight, Rachel and Santana agree. He checks out Rachel and Santana's room, which is a little bit tight with both of their furniture but not uncomfortably so. Kurt nods in approval at Rachel's furniture, which matches, and her side of the room is pristine, and raises an eyebrow at Santana's side, which is still pretty messy what with how recently she moved everything into this room. "Well," he drawls, "Now we know not to trust Santana with any decorating."
Santana socks his arm and he smiles—it's funny how much she reminds him of Puck sometimes—and then she gestures wildly at Rachel's side of the room, "Well, would you really trust her to do it? The ratio of pink is way off…then again, I'm of the opinion that any pink is too much." She is exaggerating, because really it's mainly Rachel's bedspread that is pink, but he laughs as Rachel rolls her eyes anyway.
Rachel offers to order some pizza and Santana offers to put together his bed frame and his vanity while he and Puck run to the mattress store—which he realizes just then is only open for another hour—and he hastily agrees. Luckily, he finds one he likes pretty quickly, and again he's happy for Puck's truck, which makes the whole experience so much easier. He thanks Puck—for probably the twelfth time—for coming with him, and yet again, Puck just grins and shrugs him off. "I was born a rambling man." Kurt recognizes the song as something his dad listens to, and just rolls his eyes as Puck sings the whole thing a capella on the way back to the apartment. Eventually, though, Kurt joins in on the chorus. Why not?
When they return and Rachel lets them in—Kurt hadn't thought to grab his own set of keys from the key hanger by the door—he can hear Santana cursing Ikea in Spanglish as she wrestles with his vanity, but his bedframe is up, so he and Puck put the mattress down immediately. He starts unpacking what he can, working around Santana, looking for his sheets, while Rachel yaps away at Puck in the kitchen under the pretense of getting him a glass of water. Kurt is only half-listening, but he gathers that Rachel's classes are going well and then he shuts her out completely. The heat of jealousy he thought he'd gotten over fills his chest like heartburn at the thought of Rachel at NYADA.
Instead, he focuses on Santana, and after making his bed, he squats down on the carpet next to her and they puzzle out the instructions together. She's almost done, and between them they make short work of the vanity, finishing it just as the buzzer sounds, signaling the arrival of their dinner.
As Rachel sets the pizzas and the two liter of Coke down on the kitchen counter—one vegan with veggies and one meat-lovers—Puck's eyebrows wiggle and he says, "I brought a housewarming gift." He digs around in his duffle bag next to the couch in the living room for a few moments before extracting two brown paper bags—inside which are one bottle of Italian prosecco and one bottle of Jack Daniels.
"Noah Puckerman!" Rachel shrieks, "You just transported alcohol—illegally purchased by someone underage to be given to other someones underage, one of whom is still a minor—across several state lines! Do you have any idea how much trouble you could've gotten in?!"
"Chill, babe," Puck says coolly, "Nothin's gonna happen now that it's here." Rachel huffs, while Santana snatches the bottle of whiskey and makes herself a Jack and Coke. Puck turns to Kurt, eyes twinkling. "Wine?" When Kurt agrees, Rachel sighs heavily and extracts two wine glasses—which Kurt has to admit he's surprised she owns—and requests a glass for herself. Puck, of course, makes his own Jack and Coke.
Santana is the first to dig into the pizza, grabbing the biggest slice of meat-lovers and moaning exaggeratedly as she takes a bite. "Sorry," she groans around the food in her mouth, and Puck shoots her a half-leer, "It's just been so long since I had this much meat in my mouth." When Puck's leer just gets wider, she slaps his shoulder, "God, shut the fuck up—sorry Berry" she interjects as Rachel winces at her language; Kurt and Puck share a shocked look.
"How has Rachel Berry got you whipped?" Kurt asks bluntly; he's only had a sip of prosecco but somehow he already feels different.
Santana rolls her eyes and Rachel titters behind her hands, "Anyway, the whole point of my comment was that I eat like partial vegetarian now because of living with the vegan fascist. So Kurt, I hope you either know how to cook meat or are okay with also being a partial vegetarian."
Kurt shrugs; he has a slice of meat-lovers and a slice of vegan on his plate. "I actually don't care to cook meat. I picked up some cooking after my mother died to try to keep mealtimes as normal as they could be, but Dad did most of the meat cooking, and he and Carole have cooked a lot less meat since his heart attack. I try to indulge rarely anyway. It's bad for your skin."
Santana sighs, "Figures. Well, it's cool. I usually get meat when we order food, so it works."
They devour the pizza and turn on some terrible movie on Netflix that they only half watch as they begin to work on the wine and whiskey. For some reason, Rachel also puts her iPod on shuffle, so they really can't even hear the TV over the music, but it's okay, because they have plenty to talk about. Kurt thinks he's probably pretty drunk, because everything's funnier and he thinks he's talking more than usual, but Puck seems normal, Santana just seems mellow—Kurt keeps waiting for her to cry—and Rachel…well, she's definitely drunk, and Kurt thinks she's sat in everyone's lap so far.
He and Santana somehow start laughing hysterically over Ellen Degeneres's shoes, of all things, and yeah, Kurt would normally cringe at sneakers with a pantsuit, but he's always given Ellen a pass, because she just manages to make it look dapper. And then Santana makes a joke about her wearing cleats and they laugh until they can't breathe, while Puck and Rachel just stare, bewildered, until Kurt gasps out, "You're the Taylor Swift to my Ellen," and Santana hugs him, her laughter hiccupping a little until he's scared she's going to actually start crying this time.
Then she pulls back with a confused expression, "How the fuck are you the Ellen in this situation?" she asks, then laughs more, "And, what, is Berry Portia?"
"Kurt is my…well…gay hetero lifemate?" Rachel interrupts, her features pinching in confusion as she struggles with the term.
Santana rolls her eyes, still chuckling, "Alright, alright, Kurt, you can be Ellen."
It's around ten-thirty when Puck, without preamble, grunts, "Shit," and fishes for his phone in his pocket. It's the way he squints and fumbles with it that finally clues Kurt into the fact that Puck is drunk, too. Rachel is currently snuggled against Santana, who looks at her with affection she isn't trying to hide, and they're engrossed in some weird conversation. Kurt hears Puck's phone ringing, and it takes him a moment to realize the phone is on speaker; Puck is frowning and the phone is held up to his ear, so Kurt isn't sure he meant to turn on speaker-phone, but he doesn't make a move to turn it off.
"Hello?" a scratchy voice answers distractedly.
"'Sup, MILF?" Puck drawls, but he's still frowning slightly.
With a long-suffering sigh the voice—Quinn, Kurt realizes—responds, "Puck. What do you want?"
"Guess where I am?" Puck challenges, his smirk now slipping back into place.
"Not Lima?" is Quinn's short reply.
"I'm kickin' it here at Kurt, Santana and Rachel's," Puck grins.
At the sound of her name, Rachel perks up, and as Quinn starts to respond, Rachel is lurching toward Puck, shouting as she moves. "Is that Quinn?! Hi, Quinn! We love you!" she shouts this last part at the phone, still held next to Puck's ear. Puck winces and Rachel grins triumphantly.
"Puck," Quinn's voice is ice, "Did you get Rachel drunk?"
"I'm not drunk!" Rachel hollers, and Santana has the presence of mind to stand up and grab her elbow, guiding her to the kitchen to get a drink of water.
"Hey, she's fine," Puck defends, a whine in his tone, as Rachel leaves, "No one here is gonna hurt her. We all love her."
Quinn exhales and then huffs, "Yeah. Guess you're right. Just be careful with her."
"Of course," Puck says, eyebrows twitching in what looks like hurt, "So what're you doin', Mama? Did we interrupt you from a party?"
"No," Quinn grumps, "My first big paper is due for my English class on Monday, and my roommate and I are spending the whole weekend working on them. That's why I'm not there to welcome Kurt to his new home—tell him hey, by the way. And send my love to everybody."
"Hey, Quinn!" Kurt calls in response, and he can hear the smile in her voice as she responds in kind.
"Gotcha," Puck responds, "I'll tell everybody you love them. Sexually."
Quinn huffs, "Exactly," she grunts sarcastically, "I need to get back to my paper. Thanks for calling, Puck. Be safe on your way back to Lima."
"No prob, Q. Good luck on the paper."
At this moment, Rachel comes back into the room and screeches, "Bye, Quinn! We love you!"
"I love and miss you, Q!"" Santana shouts.
They receive a dry chuckle and a "See you guys in a few weeks!" before Quinn hangs up.
"God, I miss her," Santana says again, her throat sounding tight, "And Brittany. God, I miss Brittany. I'm gonna call her," sniffling, Santana reaches into her pocket for her phone, and Kurt instantly knows that drunk dialing Brittany is a bad idea.
"No!" he says, touching Santana's arm, "Santana, she's probably asleep. Isn't tomorrow the monthly Saturday Cheerios practice?" He has no idea if it is, but maybe he'll be lucky.
Santana sighs, "You're right," she grumbles, "But, god…" she buries her face in her hands.
And in response, Rachel jumps up and suggests they watch Buffy. Kurt and Puck both roll their eyes, but then Santana perks up slightly and mutters, "It's actually kind of good. Kurt, you probably like David Boreanaz, and he's all young and buff, and Puck, you probably like Sarah Michelle Gellar—she's pretty hot in this."
"Plus it's just a well-told story with very relatable themes of autonomy versus—" Rachel begins to ramble.
"Yeah, a well-told story with themes of hotties and vampires. Let's go, Berry. Just start where we left off in season two."
They're about three-quarters of the way through season two, apparently, and they turn on an episode that just…it's insane. David Boreanaz is hot and evil, and is apparently stalking Buffy and her redheaded friend, and it's dark and grim and gritty, and then he kills a woman, and lays her out for the British man to find…and by the end of the episode, Kurt thinks he's trembling more from emotion than from alcohol, and he's completely drawn in.
But they've had such an early day, that despite his fascination, and, he thinks, Puck's grudging interest, they're not up for much more. Rachel also seems ready for bed, and Santana gets on her computer. Puck sprawls out on the couch, telling Santana not to worry about any light or sound she makes while still awake, he can sleep through anything.
Kurt barely makes it through his moisturizing routine before falling in bed. He also barely remembers to text Blaine, though he's sure Blaine is asleep—he's pretty sure Blaine hadn't slept well the night before.
Sir Kurt Hummel: In New York and had
a great first night. Miss you terribly and
love you. Talk to you tomorrow?
He doesn't wait for a response and drifts off to sleep almost immediately.
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Sacrifice turns to revenge
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Having Kurt there changes things up somewhat.
The most obvious change is apparent when Santana sets her laptop down an hour or so before dawn the morning after Kurt arrives, watching Puck to be sure she hasn't awoken him, and heads into what is now her bedroom. She opens the door carefully. There's just enough light from the street coming through the curtain for her to be able to see in the room, and she can see Rachel sprawled in bed, wrapped in a sheet, her blanket kicked to the foot of her bed. As she closes the door, watching Rachel to be sure she isn't waking her, she notices…Rachel appears to be naked.
She can't see anything specific, just Rachel's shoulders, and the fact that there are no tank top straps or anything on them. She supposes Rachel could be wearing shorts—the one leg sticking out from her sheet isn't exposed enough to tell Santana that—but Santana swallows at the sight. Is it really okay that she's about to go to sleep two yards away from a topless woman?
But then, as Santana walks quietly to her bed, she decides fuck it. She likes to sleep naked, too, and maybe she's not okay with being totally naked right now, but she strips down to her panties.
As she settles into her bed, she hears Rachel rustling about a bit, and then a head of messy dark hair lifts sleepily and gazes at her from across the room.
"Sorry," Santana says, just loud enough that she hopes she can be heard over the air conditioner that's simply functioning as a fan right now—they really need to take it out of the window soon because it's definitely gotten chilly, but it's useful tonight, because the apartment feels so warm.
"It's okay," Rachel says quietly, then glances down at herself and rubs her forehead. "I seem to have elected to sleep in just panties last night. I blame the alcohol. I'm sorry." Holding the sheet to her chest, she gropes around on the floor for her shirt.
"Hey, don't worry about it," Santana grumbles sleepily, "What do you think I'm wearing? Wear whatever you want to bed, Berry. I intend to. And if we flash each other, well, whatever. I'm not gonna beat off about it."
"Oh," Rachel exhales slightly, "Oh, okay. I do usually sleep in minimal clothing. At least until winter."
"That's great," Santana mumbles disinterestedly, nestling herself into her blankets as Rachel pulls on a shirt and shorts and goes to the bathroom. When she gets back and crawls back into bed, wishing Santana goodnight, Santana is already half asleep.
Other changes feel like they happen quickly, but they're not startling or disorienting. Rachel and Santana's bedroom becomes much more of simply a bedroom. Santana hadn't spent that much time in her room unless she needed privacy, preferring to spend time in the living room instead, but Rachel had been doing much of her homework in the room. Now, though, Rachel's desk is in the living room, and she's been doing most of her work there. Kurt doesn't spend much time in his room, either; his laptop has taken up residence next to Santana's on the coffee table. In fact, for the first week or so, Kurt just watches Netflix, as far as Santana can tell. He catches up with them in Buffy, which takes him two days, then seems to be choosing random documentaries. She's a little worried about the fact that she doesn't think he's left the apartment once, and some days she's not sure he has showered.
However, Kurt does sometimes disappear when Rachel is working on homework. Santana's brow furrows when she notices this. She worries that he's still jealous, because Rachel does occasionally like to discuss her assignments. She doesn't want conflict in her home.
There's one day that Rachel moves from her desk to sit on the armchair with her laptop, and begins to stress to Santana about the paper she has due the next day. Santana watches Kurt gather up his laptop and head to his room, and notes that Rachel seems too distracted to really notice. Santana doesn't know what to say, except to tell Rachel, "You'll be fine."
About twenty minutes later, she registers that she's been hearing the rapid clacking of keys as Rachel types for a good ten minutes now, and looks up to see Rachel grinning. "Making good progress?" Santana asks.
Rachel's grin turns sheepish. "Sort of. Mostly I've been talking to Quinn, but going over the assignment with her has really helped me organize my thoughts."
Santana looks at Rachel, and notes that her posture is relaxed, her smile confident. Somehow, Quinn has reassured her. She's grateful—she's not exactly good at that.
There's also a particular morning when she gets home from work. Rachel doesn't always get up at six-ish anymore; she often sleeps until eight these days, but sometimes she insists on waking up early to perform what had been her high school morning routine. When she does, she and Santana are often good at working around each other in the bathroom. Today, however, Kurt is awake early for no reason—he sleeps extremely erratically, Santana has realized—and there's a line in front of the bathroom.
Santana folds her arms grumpily; she just wants to brush her teeth and wash her face so she can go to bed. She can hear the shower running, can see Kurt's impatience, and finally pushes past him to knock, "Berry?" she calls, "Stay in the shower, we're coming in!"
Not waiting for a response, she pushes open the door, "Santana?" Rachel calls uncertainly.
"Don't worry, we can't see you, but I needs to brush my teeth so I can get in my goddamn bed and I don't feel like waiting for your ass. Oh, and Kurt is awake for some reason."
"Can I pee before you go in?" Kurt asks a little bit petulantly.
Santana sighs and shrugs, letting him, and when he comes out, she goes in to brush her teeth. Kurt comes back a moment later, clutching his own towel and leaning against the doorframe.
In the middle of brushing her teeth, she hears the shower shut off, and one of Rachel's arms reach out and grab her towel. After a few moments, her arm reaches out again to grab her bathrobe, and Rachel steps out from the shower with her hair wrapped in the towel and the robe on.
"You okay?" Santana asks around her toothbrush.
"I'm fine," Rachel responds, "I…hadn't thought about Kurt being awake and hadn't quite realized what time it was when I got in. But I am fine with having people in the bathroom when I shower." She glances at Kurt, "Can we just make an agreement here that we can work around each other in the bathroom? I have a feeling this will happen again."
Kurt shrugs, "Well, I'm not showering with any of you or showing you my delicate man flower, but otherwise, I am in agreement."
Shuddering at Kurt's unnecessarily evocative description of his junk, Santana agrees, and Rachel nods, smiling, and heads to their room. Somehow, Kurt, perhaps through his maleness or just the fact that he takes the residence from company to a crowd, has completely destroyed their concept of modesty. Not that Santana has much of one anyway. She was a Cheerio, after all.
She reflects that in living with someone, you get to know them far better than any other way. It's partly the funny things, like the fact that she and Rachel own the exact same hair straightener and use the same leave-in conditioner, and, even more amusing, the fact that she and Kurt use the same nightly facial cleansing cloths, and sometimes buy the same body wash.
It's also the irritations. The worst part about living with Kurt is that it turns out he's a slight slob. It's weird, because his room is immaculate, either because he doesn't spend that much time in it or because he's more careful with his personal space. But Santana has to reign in her temper when she wakes up and has to shift aside a pile of dishes on the coffee table to make room for her breakfast, or when she goes into the kitchen and stares at dishes in the sink—not even soaking, just sitting there with food caking on. Rachel is pretty good at cleaning up after herself—Santana occasionally notices half-full cups of water scattered around, weirdly like the little girl in Signs, but it's mostly on Rachel's things, like on her desk or on her bedside table. Kurt, though, makes her gnaw her lip. She never realized she was a neat freak, because her side of the room is never particularly spotless.
It's been generally nice to have Kurt around, though. Especially due to what happens less than a week after he moves in.
Santana wakes up in the mid-afternoon, as usual, and shuffles out of her room. Kurt is watching a documentary about Elmo from Sesame Street, for some reason, and she settles next to him on the couch with her breakfast, half-watching and half-checking Facebook. It's not long before Rachel bustles in, clutching the mail.
"Looks like bills," she reports after greeting them both, sifting through the envelopes. Then she freezes, and seems to go pale.
"What?" Santana prompts.
Wordlessly, Rachel shows them the envelope. Santana is only able to read that it's addressed to Rachel and that the return address is "Pvt. Hudson" before Kurt is shooting up out of his seat, and Rachel is snatching the envelope back to her chest.
"What is that?" Kurt asks coldly.
"Evidence suggests a letter from Finn," Rachel responds snidely.
"Oh, damn," Kurt murmurs, "I wasn't thinking when I gave him my new address. Of course he knew I was living with you…"
"And of course he wanted it to keep in touch with you," Santana can't help but growl at Kurt, "Throw it away, Berry."
Rachel nods distractedly, but makes no move to do so. Instead, she drops the two bills on the coffee table and walks into their bedroom with her letter, closing the door firmly behind her.
Santana and Kurt stare after her, then look at each other.
"I want to be mad at you, but it's not your fault. Of course you want to keep in touch with your brother," Santana mutters, "But goddamn it, I cannot live with a Rachel Berry pining for army guy Finn Hudson."
"I know," Kurt mutters, "But maybe it's a friendly letter."
Santana nods, and relaxes somewhat. A friendly letter could possibly be helpful, right?
After about a week and a half, Kurt finally leaves the house; Santana wakes up to find he's gone. Rachel also receives two more letters from Finn, which…both times these letters arrive, she and Kurt see each other before Rachel comes home, and stress about it. They both wish they could throw the letters out, but it's not their place to do so, so instead, feeling sick, they leave the letters on the coffee table for Rachel. By now, they know these are not friendly letters, and Kurt can barely mask his hurt that Finn hasn't written to him yet.
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I know you hear me loud
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Kurt continues to disappear for the next few days, until Friday, when Santana wakes up, relieved that her work week is over. She and Helen had had a conversation the previous evening about their "types," and something about that had felt so wrong, probably the fact that Santana had kept her answer simple—that she doesn't really have one (falling in love with one woman does not a type make, right?)—because she hadn't wanted to mention Brittany for whatever reason. She far, she has not told Helen that she has a girlfriend, and she can't figure out why. Santana realizes she just doesn't know how to have other lesbians for friends, doesn't know where the lines are, and suddenly just feels so young. She hasn't been ashamed of Brittany, or ashamed to be in love with her, for awhile now (and, really, she was more ashamed of herself, because she's always thought Brittany is amazing), but for some reason, maybe because Helen is a little older (twenty-two), but treats Santana like she's the same age, she's afraid trying to explain that she's in love with a girl who is still in high school and is eleven hours away will just make her seem like such a kid. She's glad to have the weekend to look forward to to get her mind off this, and when she exits her room, the living room is full: Kurt, Rachel and Quinn are all laughing together. Rachel had wanted to have a Halloween gathering for them—a Buffy themed one, so she hadn't invited any school friends—and apparently it's Quinn's fall break, although she had waited to come up until the weekend so as not to get in Rachel's way during her classes.
To compound her weird feeling, though, Santana had also asked Helen to buy some alcohol for her for this gathering—which Helen had been all too happy to do. Asking that kind of favor from a coworker had seemed, in retrospect, a bit too personal. And they're work friends. That's all.
She gets a hug from Quinn, which she accepts with less griping than last time they saw each other, and settles onto the couch with her breakfast. Kurt asks Rachel if she checked the mail on her way back from meeting Quinn at the train station, and offers to get it when she replies, somewhat nervously, Santana thinks, in the negative. When Kurt comes back up the stairs, he tosses Rachel a letter—another letter from Finn. This makes, what, Santana thinks, four in like a week?
Rachel's breath catches as she grabs the letter. Quinn peeks at it, brow furrowed, and Rachel gathers it up and goes into her room. Quinn gives Santana and Kurt a look that is half-disappointed and half-petrified and half-furious—a look so potent and rife with emotion that it has three halves—and Rachel returns quickly—she must have just stashed the letter somewhere, Santana thinks. Santana can see each person attempt to put what just happened out of their mind; Rachel smiles theatrically and smoothes her skirt, Quinn smiles primly and gets up to get a glass of water, and Kurt purses his lips and turns to Santana.
"Oh!" he says, "I told Rachel and Quinn this before you woke up, but I have good news. I got a job!"
"Oh, yeah?" Santana grins, "Where?"
Kurt chuckles a little, "A vintage clothing store slash thrift store slash costume store. I made it just in time for Halloween hiring—even though I'll only work for like two days before Halloween actually happens—but they were also looking to fill a more permanent position and I think my sense of style impressed them."
"I'll have to come check it out," Santana says, "Maybe I'll let you be a fashion consultant."
"Oh my god, would you?" Kurt exclaims, "You have no idea how badly I've wanted to burn your work uniforms."
Santana frowns. Since her rent had dropped and she had some extra money, she had bought a few pairs of men's cargo pants—because women's pockets are pathetic, and she found she needs lots of pockets for the tools and tape measurers and things she's expected to keep on her at her job—not to mention things like her wallet; there was no way she was leaving a purse anywhere unattended in the store, even locked in a locker. The pants are slim cut, so they could kind of pass for women's pants if not for the extraneous crotch room, and whatever, Santana thinks they actually make her ass look great. "Whatever, Kurt. I still know how to look good, there's just no point in trying to at work. What happened to fashion has no gender?"
"That is not fashion."
"It's just for work. It's functional."
Kurt barks out a laugh, "God, when did you get this gay?" Quinn snorts into her glass of water, and Rachel tries to look disapproving.
"I'd say since I grew a mullet in elementary school, but maybe it's more like the first time Brittany went do—"
"Okay!" Kurt claps, interrupting her, "What say we start celebrating Halloween?"
Their plan is to just have a relaxing party and a Buffy marathon to celebrate tonight—though Quinn is gunning for a few good X-Files episodes thrown in as well, and she keeps muttering about a really terrifying first season episode called "Squeeze," but that gets forgotten about when Santana keeps making breast-grabbing hand gestures at her every time she says it—and they're in thematic costumes. The next night, they're all going to go out into the city in costume. They're disappointed Halloween is on a weeknight, because they've all heard there are great parades and things, but they're thinking of just checking things out anyway, seeing if others are celebrating early.
Santana takes a shower and they all begin to get ready. Kurt is dressing up as Angel, Santana as Drusilla (she's looking forward to using her bad British accent all night), Rachel as Willow (complete with a bad red wig that Kurt apparently brought her home from his new place of employment) and Quinn as Buffy. While Santana is showering, she can hear everyone coming in and out of the bathroom, putting on make-up or getting hair styling product. Santana is borrowing one of Rachel's insane vintage style dresses—it's mostly red, which makes it kind of appropriate—though she pretends it's not Rachel's, and when she had tried it on a few days ago, she had griped that she shouldn't be able to fit into Rachel's clothes. It's hard to accept that she's barely taller than someone that small, but, whatever, she looks good, and she sends a picture of herself to Brittany. Rachel is…pretty much dressed like herself three years ago—fuzzy sweater, collared shirt, skirt, stockings. Quinn has apparently purchased pleather pants for this occasion, and grins as she takes a stake out of her bag. She'd sat on the freaking botanical garden or whatever passed for a quad at her ritzy school and whittled that thing one day last week.
But Kurt…Kurt is so slight, and the length and color of his hair—which he pushes up in that 90's style duck tail kind of thing Angel does—really makes him look more like Edward Cullen than Angel, and even the dark jeans and dress shirt don't really help. Santana dies laughing, and Kurt looks very embarrassed at first, but eventually sighs and rolls his eyes, and just applies more eyeliner.
They order takeout from a sorta nearby Chinese restaurant, and, feeling silly, all walk down to pick it up together. No one on the street seems to take any notice of them, which is both a relief and a disappointment. It's not until they're paying for their food that the young girl ringing them up, who shouts in Cantonese at the cooks and speaks unaccented English to customers, looks Kurt up and down, snaps her gum and asks, "Are you supposed to be Edward Cullen?" Santana laughs so hard she has to wait outside, and doesn't hear whether Kurt corrects her after sighing in exasperation or not.
They get home and start the Buffy marathon. They're barely into Season 3, having finished Season 2 the previous weekend, and in this episode, a new Slayer appears. Santana perks up, "Wait. It's that chick from Bring It On?" Quinn looks at her with a raised eyebrow, and she scoffs, "Come on, you've seen that movie."
"Of course I have," Quinn replies evenly.
"Damn," Santana grumbles as the episode continues, "Why didn't we watch this last weekend? I'd be dressed as her right now. Talk about badass. Plus, I could be annoying Quinn all night instead of hanging on Kurt and saying crazy things."
"Faith is fascinating," Quinn begins, but Rachel shushes her with a murmured "Spoiler alert," and Quinn grins at Santana and they continue to watch.
All in all, even watching Faith get terrified and lose her shit doesn't make Santana think any less of her because, damn, that giant-ass stake at the end is more badass than anything Buffy's done so far.
But as they keep watching, Santana wonders if she's…reading this right. The way Faith talks to Buffy, looks at her…she glances at Quinn, who doesn't seem to notice, engrossed as she is in a scene in which Faith seems to be going out of her way to publicly humiliate a guy who Buffy briefly dated…Santana brushes away her thoughts.
By around one in the morning, they're a little less than halfway through the season, and though they decide it's too late to start another episode, they're not quite ready for bed. Santana leans on Kurt and speaks nonsense, which is easy to do with the fact that she's pretty drunk, and it's so reminiscent of a recent weekend that they both start giggling uncontrollably, but then she realizes something and kicks out a foot to nudge Quinn. "Q, I haven't heard a thing about your sex life," she says bluntly, still stifling giggles, "So, seriously, bang any trust fund kids yet?"
"Ooh, does Yale have a rowing team?" Kurt sighs.
Quinn snorts, "Well, first of all, I am a trust fund kid, so watch it. At least, I think I qualify, unless having to fight your father's lawyer for your money disqualifies you. There were those legal battles over whether I was able to access the funds since my father's name was on the account with mine, but I think it might finally be settled. It's just a much a mess as the back payments for child support that he's still refusing to pay my mother. He's convinced he rightfully disowned me, even though I was a minor, and that therefore he wasn't responsible for my welfare." She sighs, dispelling her bitter rant, then shrugs, "And no. No one's caught my eye there. Nor do I have any idea about a rowing team, Kurt."
Rachel slurs in response, adopting a bad accent in imitation of Ewan McGregor, "but a life without love, that's terrible!"
Quinn laughs at this and says, without a hint of self-deprecation, "I'm not sure I've ever had a relationship with someone I was in love with."
Everyone regards her kind of oddly at this admission, and Rachel says slowly, "But you told me you thought you loved some of your exes."
"Yeah. Thought," Quinn says, running her hands up and down her pleather-clad thighs nervously. "Puck…there was too much messiness there for me to even attempt. Sam, I was really just trying to feel normal again, there really wasn't even time to try to feel anything real there, though he was a great guy. Even Finn I was dating mostly for status, but the second time we tried…" Quinn pauses, as if realizing that maybe talking about Finn is a bad idea, but presses on, "After Zizes put up the pictures of Lucy, Finn showed me that he was carrying a picture of Lucy in his wallet, because, he said, she was his beautiful girlfriend. And even though I didn't really believe him, that…that was probably the closest I came to loving him. When he was sweet like that. When he tried." Her nails are digging into her thighs a bit as she finishes speaking.
Santana watches as Quinn looks at Rachel. Rachel seems to be far away, not looking at anyone, and her brow is furrowed. In that instant, Santana strongly suspects that Rachel is trying to remember if Finn had ever done anything that sweet for her. Santana flashes back suddenly to the times she had publicly made fun of Rachel in Glee club, only to have Mr. Schue pretend not to hear anything, and to have Finn look at his shoes and not defend his girlfriend. She knows she wasn't particularly close to them while they were dating, but she can't really think of a time when Finn did something sweet for Rachel. She glances at Quinn, and Quinn meets her eyes, and she thinks Quinn has realized the exact same thing.
And as they stare at each other a moment longer, and Quinn's mouth sets ever so slightly and her eyes dart to Rachel and back, Santana realizes…Quinn knew. Quinn had been trying to make Rachel react the way she is. Quinn is so observant, so attentive. She knows how Finn was in his relationship with Rachel, she knows the affection and appreciation that relationship lacked, that he had been incapable of giving Rachel the support her battered self-esteem needed. Santana's observations must have been correct, or at least also observed by Quinn, and if Rachel is looking as troubled as she is…Santana smiles, almost reflexively, at the manipulative power that is Quinn Fabray. Because, even though at the time she hadn't really cared much whether Rachel married Finn or not, now she does…and she wants better for Rachel.
Quinn looks back at Rachel, forces a smile and finishes, "So, no. I never loved any of my boyfriends. And I'm…happily single," she stumbles slightly over the word "happily," and Rachel blinks a bit distantly as she turns her attention back to Quinn.
"Good for you," Kurt smiles, "But do send pictures if you bang anyone hot."
Quinn laughs and rolls her eyes, "I can't promise you'll find anyone I bang hot. I may have moved on from the football-player type we used to have in common. The guys I've been hanging out with lately are total geeks—though, again, just friends with them."
"I still want to see anyone you bang," Kurt says softly, giving Quinn a fond smile.
"Who even says bang anymore?" Santana rolls her eyes.
Soon after this, everyone but Santana heads to bed, Rachel murmuring as she leans on Quinn that two drunken weekends so close together are far too much for her. But Santana, probably because of the alcohol, ends up not staying up as late as she might normally. She steps carefully into her bedroom and starts to take off her dress. She's quiet, but she watches the two girls to try to make sure she's not waking them, and the more she watches…
She hadn't wondered that much about Quinn staying over before she shared a room with Rachel. She assumed someone slept on the floor or something, but now she sees that the two are crammed into Rachel's twin bed. Quinn's on her back, a leg dangling off the side of the bed, and Rachel's on her side facing her. They're close, probably lightly pressed together under the covers, and honestly, the more Santana looks the more she can't quite discern if Rachel is wearing a shirt. But she must be, right?
As she finally pulls the dress off and reaches for her tank top—because, well, she and Quinn haven't set down any rules about accidental flashing—the sound seems to rouse Quinn somewhat. She freezes guiltily, not even understanding why she feels guilty, and watches as Quinn shifts in the bed to draw her leg up and turn toward Rachel, flinging an arm around her side. It's not intimate, it's casual, practical, but…Santana blushes as she notices Rachel burrow the smallest bit closer, and she sees Quinn's lips are inches from Rachel's forehead. She dresses quickly, grabs a blanket and pillow, and leaves the room.
"Goddamn your overactive lesbian imagination," she mutters. Seriously, what with her thinking Faith had the hots for Buffy, and feeling so awkward about the completely innocent sleeping position she'd witnessed, Santana realizes…she really, really needs to get laid.
When Rachel wakes her up in the morning, looking really confused, Santana doesn't have a good explanation ready. "Just wanted the couch for whatever reason," she mutters, and heads to the bedroom for a few more hours of sleep. She misses the way Quinn bites her lip.
Additional A/N: Chapter titles are from The Sugarcubes, "Water," Enigma, "I Love You…I'll Kill You," and Missy Elliott, "Get Ur Freak On." Other song mentioned is The Allman Brothers Band, "Ramblin Man."
Side note, I almost didn't include the third part in this update. Hope it makes up for the second part a little.