DJ Snowflake and Scrooge
December 23
9:29 am
It was hard to believe Santana was back in the town records. Even more unbelievable, she wasn't there alone. Doris stood a few feet away. She polished her crossbow and pursed her lips. Kurt and Burt sat on fold-out chairs Mercedes had brought down from the town hall meeting room. Mercedes sat in another office chair near Doris. It was hard to believe three people could share a space Santana and Doris had fought all over the day before. There had hardly been enough room for Santana's and Doris's egos.
Santana rubbed the circles from her eyes and tried to imagine what a hot cup of coffee would do for her. She and Doris had practically lived in the archives for the past twenty-four hours. In fact, Santana had actually gone well past the twenty-four hour mark at the town hall. It was only after Mercedes's annoyed and tired insistence that Doris go home and Santana spend the night at her place, that Santana had finally left. Again Mercedes's boyfriend slept on the couch while Santana had slept in her best friend's bed.
It should have been a peaceful night's sleep. She had been exhausted. She had worked all day and into the night. She had argued and fought with Doris during half or it. She had spent a good portion of that time reorganizing the town records and paperwork in a more efficient manner. She should have fallen asleep with ease. Mercedes was out in a minutes.
Santana, however, tossed and turned. She could clearly see the lights from the town tree filter through the bedroom. She saw shadows shift on the walls and the creaks of an old house still settling. She had spent the night listening to the sound of WMHS 97.3 from the downstairs radio. Every three or four songs, the music would stop and Santana would hear the faint muffle of a voice Santana knew belonged to Brittany. Her voice touched Santana's fingertips and worked through her body until she was too awake, too desirous, too worked up to try to go to sleep. Santana pretended it wasn't Brittany's voice that set her heart racing and her breathing shallow, but by 3 am, Santana waited impatiently for the next time she could discern Brittany's voice from the rest of the Christmas songs. Around 3:30am, Brittany had gone off the air and Santana finally stopped waiting to hear the DJ's voice.
"Now I don't want you to get too excited because this is only a start." Santana warned. She disliked false hope. It bred an anxious state of constant anticipation that only amounted to frustration and resentment. Santana looked into Kurt's and Burt's faces. She could already see they didn't hear the warning in her tone or understood that what she offered could easily be nothing.
"Go on." Kurt nodded in encouragement.
She blinked hard and tried to stifle another yawn. "I know you asked Mercedes to bring me to the bed and breakfast because you wanted me to find a way to connect your bed and breakfast to a person of significance, like Rachel Berry. And Mercedes thought I could help because I work at an archive, but registration and historical sites are not even close to my field. So I worked with what you guys gave me – a lot of Rachel Berry stuff."
"But after I spent the night in the town records-"
"You spent the night here?" Burt asked with concern.
Kurt frowned and glanced around the condition of the room with obvious disapproval. "Glad to see you survived your adventurous night out."
Santana licked her lips with annoyance at the interruptions. "-yes, with Brittany. I was fine."
"With Brittany?" Kurt turned around completely in his chair to "whisper" his shock to Mercedes. Mercedes pretended she didn't hear Kurt's question, but her eyes held more amusement than a response would have given him.
"As I was saying, it became clear that I should have just stuck with what I'm good at – which is documents." Santana shifted papers on Doris's desk with excitement. "There is so much history here in Midtown, it should be easy to connect your bed and breakfast to a large amount of historical significance. So I –"
Doris coughed hard and readjusted the crossbow in her hand.
Santana adjusted her statement. "So we started to research the actual bed and breakfast building. It wasn't easy. This room has everything– "Santana wistfully looked back at all of the boxes and papers scattered around. Essentially, it was like a historical vault. "It has building plans, blue prints, deeds, land markers, census records. You have no idea."
"So what did you find?"
"Nothing." Santana flippantly stated.
"What?" Kurt, Burt, and even Mercedes expressed doubt and disappointment at Santana's answer.
"At first." Santana smirked. She carefully placed a floor plan of the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast on Doris's desk. "You should know what this is."
"It's the B&B." Burt leaned over the oversized paper. "I have a copy of this exact plan in my office."
Santana nodded. "Doris and I continued going through any records on your bed and breakfast, Burt. Eventually we came across this old floor plan from 1857." Santana very carefully placed a much older document over the one she had already shown the Hummels. It was stained and worn. There was a scorch mark at the top left corner and some ink from another document had stained into the paper.
Burt glanced over the plan with a frown. "It's still our bed and breakfast. It's a much older plan, but we haven't changed the building – ever. It's not in our nature. The Hummels have always wanted to keep the integrity of the building."
"And you did." Santana pointed to one of the rooms in the center of the plan. "Do you recognize this room? It's the Rachel Berry room. The one I've been sleeping in. Do you see what's missing?"
Kurt's eyes widened. "The mantle wall. There's a second wall right behind it. But why?"
"Great question." Santana lifted her hand to a stack of very old building plans on another desk. "All of these buildings have rooms and walls that were obscured by building plans drawn after 1858. After some more research -" Santana glanced to a stack of notes. "-Doris and I think a majority of the town had been part of the underground railroad."
"What?" Burt and Kurt looked at each other. "We had no idea."
"I didn't either." Mercedes stood up from her chair and approached the desk. "Can you prove this?"
Doris shrugged. "The building plans are there. Just got to find the hidden rooms and put names to whoever lived there at the time."
Mercedes pulled out her cell phone, but quickly discovered she had no service in the basement. She excused herself to walk upstairs. Kurt and Burt pointed back to the plan on the desk as if trying to decide what they wanted do with the information given to them. Santana smiled softly to herself at the thought of knocking down the wall where Rachel Berry's portrait hung over the mantle. It would be such sweet revenge.
But…
It wasn't about revenge or even history. This was about what was best for Burt and Kurt. Santana swallowed hard and couldn't believe what she was about to say.
"Kurt. Burt. I know you have a lot to think about and I'm not here to run your bed and breakfast, but I don't think you should give up the Rachel Berry angle. Mercedes just left to make a call. I can guarantee you, she's calling the mayor to see how they can make Midtown a destination for history buffs. She'll want to get access to every single house, building, and church connected to this."
"People will come because people love a bit of history, especially the kind where strangers help strangers, but what you have with your connection to Rachel Berry and her –" The words seemed foreign and like a concession of defeat. Santana hoped Rachel's ghost couldn't hear her or she would be sucked into another dream just to hear the diva gloat. "- legacy, is something very unique. It makes your bed and breakfast special and different. I really think you should unpack all those boxes, decorate the B&B in outlandish and gaudy Rachel-fashion, and make something of a winter/Christmas destination for people who love her music." Santana continued. "In the summer, you can be part of the Underground Railroad circuit like Mercedes and the mayor will want you to be."
"Wow…" Kurt dragged out the word. "You're right, we have a lot to process, but-"
"We're grateful to have even something to process!" Burt opened his arms and walked around the desk to embrace Santana in a great hug. Santana tried to pull back, but was unsuccessful. She struggled, but when Kurt hugged her around his father, she stopped trying to break free.
"I was just doing it for Mercedes."
"And because she's incredibly good with documents." Doris stated as a matter of fact behind their group hug. "I haven't seen someone that enthused about sorting through documents since I watched my grandson go crazy in the patterns and quilting section during his first time at one of those Jo-Ann Fabric Superstores."
"We're treating you tonight, Santana! Back at the bed and breakfast!" Burt exclaimed. "A big dinner. Lots of wine or whatever you want. Doris, you can certainly join us. We can invite Mercedes and her boyfriend Sam, and you could even see if Brittany's available since she must have helped you research the other night."
"I-" Santana flushed at the mention of Brittany.
"Kurt, we've got so much to prepare. I'll start making some phone calls."
"Wait." Santana swallowed hard. "I can't stay."
"Nonsense." Kurt waved her off.
"No, I mean I have to get back to New York. I missed three calls from my boss yesterday while I was working down here."
Burt shook his head in disbelief. "But it's two days before Christmas. What could your work need you to do right before the holidays? I'm sure if you called back and explained you're spending an extra day here, they would understand."
Santana swallowed. She finished her 'job' here. Mercedes would be happy. Santana helped Kurt and Burt, and unintentionally, Santana and Doris might have helped Mercedes and the town. There was no reason to stay. If she packed her car and started driving to New York, she could make it to the archives just after dark and Terri wouldn't been too upset that she hadn't arrived earlier.
"It doesn't work like that."
The absolute statement set both Kurt and Burt back.
"Well, you tell us what you need and we'll make sure you have it before you go."
"You shouldn't have done that, Kurt." Burt chided his son.
"I did nothing." Kurt stated and turned his nose up.
"You can't meddle in the lives of our guests when they stay here."
"The only reason we're even going to have guests is because of Santana." Kurt looked through the curtain of the office. Santana lifted a bag and threw it into the trunk of her car. Snow was still all over the parking lot, but their plow guys had at least made Hummel's accessible. Still, she almost slipped on a patch of ice. She caught herself, straightened, and proceeded to cuss out the weather. "So I'm going to try to help her before she leaves."
"You still shouldn't have done that." Burt stated, but he too gazed out the window with curiosity.
"Terri, I don't know what to tell you, I'm literally in my car on the way back to New York. I'll be there in a few hours. Yes, I did contact the cleaning crew. They should already be there working." Santana frowned. "No, I'm not there to supervise. I will be soon. Yes, I do understand this my opportunity to impress you. Yes, I can manage. I know I'm not there."
Santana leaned against the side of the rental car. She gritted her teeth with every word. It was probably a good thing she was outside in the freezing cold to keep her anger from boiling over.
"I don-"
The sound of another vehicle driving down the street stopped Santana's words. She had stayed at the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast for the past three weeks. The only time she had seen another car this far out here had been when Brittany had stolen her away to carol for the night. The red scarf around her neck caught the wind and gently waved. Santana followed the direction of the scarf and the wind toward the entrance of the parking lot.
Santana stood up from the car. Her stomach fluttered as she recognized Brittany's familiar blue colored truck. Brittany still had the bright red plow attached to the front of her truck. Garland, bells, and snowman decorated the cab. Brittany parked the truck a few spaces down from Santana, opened her truck, slammed the door, and walked determinedly across the parking lot.
The cell phone hanging in Santana's hand made muffled noises. "Santana. Santana? Santana! Where are you?"
Santana's heart beat faster and faster upon every step of Brittany's approach. Santana had never known what it was like to be the sole desire of another person, but in that moment, she could feel Brittany approaching with the intent to make that feeling known to Santana.
Santana didn't have a chance to answer her boss. Brittany grabbed her hand with the cell phone and pushed it down to her side completely. Her other hand cupped Santana's face and tilted her chin up. Santana forgot the cold, the car, the ice, and her boss. Kissing Brittany was like fire; the kind that burned slow in her core and ignited sparks all over her body. Brittany pressed her against the side of her rental car. Her hips were hard and insistent, but her gloved fingers were soft and tender.
The sound of excited clapping from the front door of the bed and breakfast interrupted their moment.
Brittany pulled back. They both glanced over to see Kurt enthusiastically shouting and whooping.
"This isn't one of your shows, Kurt." Santana yelled. "Go back inside."
"And miss this? Hell no." Kurt turned back into the house. "Dad! Brittany just made a huge entrance. You're missing everything!"
"Hi." Brittany said. She pulled back with a smile.
"Hey." Santana answered breathlessly and ignored Kurt.
"I heard you might not be sticking around for Christmas…" Brittany brushed back some of Santana's hair.
"I'm not. I finished my job here and my boss needs me." Santana glanced to her phone. She could hear Terri yelling for her. She couldn't believe she actually didn't want to answer. All she wanted was to get back to her job when she arrived in Midtown and now all she could think about how she could stay.
Undeterred, Brittany shrugged. "I was just hoping you'd be available for Christmas. I run an all-night Christmas radio show you might have heard about." Brittany winked. "I thought maybe if you wanted, you could spend Christmas Eve with me in the studio. It could be the start of a new Christmas tradition- our Christmas tradition. Holly won't be there. It would just be you and me."
"You want me to spend Christmas with you?" Santana didn't know what to say. Her heart pounded. She thought about the evening before in Mercedes's bed when she spent the entire night listening to Brittany's voice.
"That's all I want and I hope I'm not wrong by thinking you could want that too."
"Santana!" The phone screamed.
"Shit." Santana picked up the phone and placed it to her ear. She shied away from Brittany's gaze as she walked away. "No, I'm sorry Terri. I'm still on my way. I was just talking to a friend I saw at the gas station. I'm half way to New York. I swear."
Brittany didn't understand. "Just hang up the phone and stay here, Santana. It's Christmas."
"I can't." Santana shook her head as she hung up the phone. "That's my boss. I have a job. I have a life and it's not here in Midtown. It's been…" She didn't want to use the word fun because that wasn't the word to describe the way Brittany made her feel. Santana didn't want to make this worse than it was; she just wanted to get this over with. "I'm sorry."
"What?"
Santana took another step away from her and looked over to the front door. "Kurt, tell your dad thanks for everything. I've got to get out of here before I'm too late."
"Santana?" Brittany stepped back to allow her space to get into the rental car.
Before Santana could listen to another word, she opened the car door. She tried to shove the keys into the ignition, but missed several times before she found the slot.
Brittany moved away from the car. Santana opened her mouth, but had no words. She had spent enough time in Midtown. She had spent enough time away from reality, and Midtown wasn't her reality; Brittany wasn't her reality. Determined to suppress any more emotions, Santana pulled out of the parking lot without looking back. It was time to move on.