God, I am getting bored with this disclaimer. What will happen if I just ignore it? I just won't mention that I don't own Glee and that I don't own any of the original characters of the show for a change. Right.

I cannot thank my faithful beta-reader Nicole enough. I don't think she signed up for such a long multi-chapter story, but she never complains and keeps on supporting me!

TheIrishGilmore: Thanks again for the great exchange we had about some ideas!

Thank you so much for the reviews from the "new" readers and I absolutely appreciate the feedback from my "early" readers. Some of you have followed me and commented from the beginning! It is great to see how you experience the development of the story and the characters and that you take some time again and again to leave your thoughts!

I have to admit, this is one of my favorite chapters.

Chapter 24

Santana had moved in with Quinn on the weekend following their dinner and their living arrangement actually worked out quite well. The Latina worked mostly during the day, sometimes even very early in the morning, which was quite a tough challenge for her. Some of her clients needed the exercise before they went to work, so the only option for them was giving it a go before seven a.m.

Should Quinn be up that early as well for whatever reason, she would prudently try to stay out of Santana's way. The Latina was definitely not a morning person. The only interaction she would accept at that hour was Quinn handing her a cup of coffee, which at least made her push a "thanks" out of her mouth. The blonde felt a bit sorry for Santana's early morning clients, they were surely being pushed harder than necessary due to the Latina's morning grumpiness.

With their different working schedules, the two friends did not see each other as often as they thought especially since Quinn stayed at Rachel's place quite often. It was just easier for her to drive over there after her show instead of Rachel having to hang around Quinn's apartment waiting until she came home. At least this way they would have some time to spend with each other. It had become quite a nice little routine for them to then catch up on their days and sometimes share a light late night snack, snuggled up against each other on the couch. They tried to see each other at least every other day if Quinn's busy schedule would allow for the time. Quinn often came to Rachel's apartment after her performance and stay the night.

On days when the actress would be home a bit earlier or on her rare days off, the two women would stay at Quinn's place.

One morning upon waking, Rachel found the spot besides her on the bed empty. A quick look at the alarm clock revealed that it was still very early in the morning, just past seven. Wondering where her girlfriend had disappeared to, she threw the covers back and got up.

Without the benefit of hearing what was going on in the apartment and the possibility of locating Quinn by sound, Rachel had to get up and look. She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, yawning heartily before pulling on some thick woolen socks and a hoody over her pajama top. She drank some water from the bottle beside her bed and then padded out of the bedroom in search of the blonde. Passing the second guest room in Quinn's apartment, she noticed a movement. At first, she thought it was Santana, but the Latina slept in the room across the hall, just opposite this one - if she was still home. Rachel had no idea, since she could not hear her leave or rummage around the flat.

That was another thing she had to get used to. Living alone, she never had to worry about anyone else. Staying with Quinn once in a while and now having Santana live here as well, she had two people to keep track of. If she did not have them in her view, she was absolutely clueless as to where everybody was and what they were doing.

One morning she had run into a stark naked Santana, because the Latina had forgotten to lock the door when taking a shower. Rachel had stopped dead in her tracks when she saw her standing in front of the mirror, just a towel around her head. Santana had whipped around, eyes blazing at seeing Rachel standing in the door. She quickly wrote: Knock? on the foggy bathroom mirror, apparently asking in a very disgruntled way if Rachel couldn't have checked if someone was inside first. After her initial surprise, Rachel had somehow found it quite amusing to be asked such a question.

So she just quipped: "Yes, I can knock. But I won't know if anybody answers, unless you throw the door open. And then I would have seen the same picture. Well, maybe some of your more private parts would have been covered with another towel." She raised an eyebrow. "Just lock the door next time, Santana." With that she turned around and closed the door again, at least then having the good grace to blush, just as Quinn had walked up to her, coming out of their bedroom.

You look like you have just peeped down the rabbit hole, Rachel.

"Uh, yeah, actually, only that this little rabbit wasn't covered in fur. I just walked in on Santana. Naked. I mean, I was dressed, she was naked."

Quinn lifted one side of her mouth in a smirk. I doubt she has a problem with that. Don't worry. She is quite confident with her body. Don't let the grumpy behavior fool you. She always liked to parade around us in the locker room after Cheerios practice, not wearing anything.

The blonde chuckled and quickly hugged her girlfriend to chase the embarrassment away.

One other little incidence happened when Rachel was cleaning some dishes in the kitchen sink. Upon turning she found Santana standing behind her rummaging around in the fridge. Rachel had been so caught up in her thoughts that she had not noticed Santana enter the kitchen area and it almost gave her a heart attack seeing the other woman standing so close behind her. After this Rachel was adamant about them announcing their presence by switching the lights quickly on an off should she not see them approach. The petite woman had to give the Latina some credit because she had looked absolutely remorseful and gratefully took up the advice about the light signal.

... ... ...

Focusing back on her current search for her girlfriend, Rachel peered around the doorframe of the second guestroom.

She found Quinn standing in front of a note stand. The blonde was turned a little sideways towards the door, so Rachel could still see part of her face. She had an earphone plugged in her left ear, singing along to whatever melody was playing. Her eyes were closed, in her left hand she held an iPod, her right hand weaved through the air in a rhythmical movement.

Rachel was mesmerized by the play of emotions imprinted on Quinn's features. It turned from hurt to hope and back to hurt. She was wondering what song she was singing. Was it something from her show? Trying to not make any sound, she almost held her breath. It was difficult trying to be quiet if you could not hear your own movements. Judging from Quinn's continuing performance, she had not yet noticed that she had an audience. Rachel quickly debated whether to make her presence known. After all that was what she had asked of the other women in regards to her condition.

But it was alluring to watch someone sing and only concentrate on the visual cues that came across. Even with being oblivious to the voice and music, Rachel found a strange fascination watching her girlfriend sing. Quinn was so caught up in the song that every fiber of her body seemed to be transmitting the pain and hurt that were so apparent in the lyrics. The brunette was completely captivated. If Quinn managed to draw her in even without Rachel being able to hear her voice, she did not doubt that the audience would be absolutely head over heels with one Quinn Fabray whenever she stood on the stage.

The petite woman tried to evoke the memories of her girlfriend's soft and silky voice in her mind and the effect of seeing her perform in front of her let goose bumps rise on her skin. Surprised by this reaction, Rachel gasped a little and looked at her arm. This small noise and movement was enough to catch Quinn's attention. She turned her head and smiled at Rachel who raised her head in that instant to meet the hazel eyes observing her. Color rose to her cheeks and she started to apologize:

"I'm sorry, Quinn … I … didn't want to disturb you… I was… and then I saw you.. and it was just so … and I couldn't look away… God, I feel like a little schoolgirl caught with her hand in the cookie jar," she then laughed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I didn't want to sneak up on you."

Quinn laughed at the cute display of embarrassment.

So, eavesdropping, Miss Berry? She teased her girlfriend, which drew a sheepish smile from Rachel and a vehement shake of her head. Quinn stepped a little closer after laying the iPod on the stand in front of her. She placed a tender kiss on her girlfriend's lips before rushing on to explain:

I couldn't sleep anymore so I decided to use the time for some practice. I, she rested her hands for a moment, I did not want to, you know, make you feel uncomfortable with me …singing, she finished.

Rachel pondered this explanation for a moment. In her heart she knew that she would have to face this eventually.

"Quinn, this is your job, you need to prepare for it. I know that it also requires time at home to get the new songs down, dialogues et cetera. You don't need to hide that from me, ok? And if you need the time, then tell me. I honestly understand!"

She watched Quinn take a deep breath.

I was unsure of how... this would affect you me addressing any issues regarding my job. I mean we have talked about little things regarding Broadway before, but never about me singing. I apologize that I tried to keep this away from you.

Rachel nodded as a sign of accepting the apology. She understood how Quinn wanted to be considerate and not confront her with this. But she also understood that it was an important and integrated part of Quinn, one that she should not have to hide, least of all from her girlfriend. And Rachel knew she would have to learn to live with the display of Quinn's talent.

She was aware of which role Quinn was playing and in which musical she was starring in. She had found this out even before her accident. So far, she had hardly dared to ask her more about it. And Quinn had steered clear of the topic as well, maybe instinctively knowing that it would be a painful subject for Rachel to discuss. But this relationship would not work if Quinn had to hide this vital element of her life from her. That was why Rachel also insisted on her to start to openly talk about it with her.

Now was a good moment as any to start facing the topic and she let curiosity get the better of her.

"What song were you singing? Something for the concert?"

No, the blonde laughed. I was actually just singing along to Christina Aguilera's Blank Page. After practicing, I like to finish with a song I really like and today it was that. Her hazel eyes watched the brown irises in front of her closely. Do you know the song?

As soon as the question was out, Quinn could have bitten her tongue. The song was quite recent and there was no way Rachel would be familiar with it, which her following words confirmed.

"No, I haven't heard it. But it looked like it contains much pain and conflict, judging by your expressions," she smiled softly at Quinn who nodded.

Quinn noticed some pain in Rachel's eyes upon her first statement, but was again surprised on how Rachel still managed to talk or discuss something that was obviously out of her reach. She would not let herself be defeated by that as it might have been a few months ago, it seemed. Then her girlfriend's voice interrupted her train of thoughts.

"So, how about if I make some breakfast while you finish with your repertoire," Rachel batted her eyelashes in a coquette way at Quinn.

How about I have you for breakfast, Quinn signed back and placed small little kisses along the side of her girlfriend's slender neck.

"That… uh… would also be… a good option," Rachel managed in between breaths.

Quinn fingered at the brunette's hoody and opened the zipper, pulling the tank top low until her kisses reached the swell of Rachel's breast. She felt her girlfriend's fingers wind around her hair in her neck and lean harder into her lips. Quinn absolutely loved how her caresses made Rachel react. How her body seemed to be detached from all sound reason, arching, moving, pressing against her, moaning, sighing, breathing in a way that told her Rachel was quickly getting aroused by her touch.

Then she heard another sound and despite the worked up state she was in, Quinn had to laugh. She drew back a little and looked at Rachel, who threw her a confused look.

"What?"

Your stomach just rumbled like a five billion megawatt thunder rolling through the sky.

Rachel had felt the grumbling in her belly, but could not care less about it at that moment. "Oh that. Ignore it!"

I think we should get you fed first, before continuing this here.

She took Rachel's hand, tugging her out of the door in the direction of the kitchen, causing the petite woman to wail while unwillingly trudging after her.

"Nooooooo I'm not hungry I don't need to eat I need you to kiss me and shower me with more of your love and to hold me and I need to kiss you and we need to make love and how on god's earth can you think of food right now? And why are you just standing there looking at me, say something or at least kiss me!"

They had arrived at the kitchen and Quinn leaned against the counter.

I was just wondering when you were going to take a breath, Quinn laughed. Listen, we still have five hours before I have to leave for the theater for the afternoon show. This is time enough for eating AND kissing. Ok?

Rachel let herself fall against her, fully trusting the blond woman to hold her. She had her lower lip pushed out in a little pout, looking absolutely adorable to Quinn who could hardly hold on to her plan to feed her girlfriend first. Only after she promised Rachel they would have breakfast in bed – Quinn tried to not think about the crumbs in the sheets – and that yes, she would get a kiss after each bite, did the petite woman conceded.

...…..…...

Whenever Rachel came over to Quinn's place and Santana was home as well, they would sometimes share the evening preparing a meal or watch a movie together. On one of those evenings, Quinn's phone buzzed as all three of them were just sitting down for an early dinner. Rachel felt the vibration through the wood of the dining table. She and Santana simultaneously looked up.

Quinn threw a look at the device and furrowed her brow.

"Shit!" Quinn stared at her phone with dismay.

Rachel tapped her arm.

"What?"

"Leonor, the other lead actress is sick. I need to perform tonight." She turned and looked at the clock that stood on the counter. It was shortly before six.

Two disappointed faces looked at her. "Oh," was all Rachel managed.

"Damn," Quinn muttered and jumped up, "I have less than two hours to get ready, and I still need to warm up," she mumbled as she dashed into the bedroom.

Rachel and Santana looked after her. Then the brunette shyly tugged on the Latina's sleeve.

"What did she say?" Santana saw the questioning brown eyes in front of her. She held up a finger and got a piece of paper and a pen. Sitting down again, she wrote her answer.

The petite woman only nodded once as she read the words, biting her lower lip. Santana watched her for a moment and wanted to write something else as Quinn rushed out of the bedroom, having exchanged her soft cotton pants for jeans. She was buckling her belt while opening the bathroom door with her elbow, quickly grabbing a brush and running back to the table, pulling the comb through her hair.

She cupped Rachel's face, placing a kiss on her lips and mouthed "sorry".

"I know. Break a leg, and warm up thoroughly!" With one last kiss Rachel sent her on her way.

The brunette watched Quinn rush out after grabbing her purse and jacket and felt bereft without her presence instantly. Much more so since she was staying at Quinn's apartment and all of a sudden she questioned her right to be there if her girlfriend was not present. She got distracted when she noticed Santana pushing the paper towards her again. It seemed like a natural gesture now, but it had cost the Latina some courage to face up to actually address the topic with Rachel.

A week after Santana had moved in, she had asked Rachel if she could visit her at her apartment. Rachel had been surprised, not knowing where this was heading but had agreed. Quinn and she had decided to stay at their own flats on that particular Saturday evening because Quinn would only be home very late that day. They planned to meet Sunday morning for breakfast, so Rachel had time for Santana the evening before.

After some awkward first moments and with gentle probing from Rachel's side, Santana had finally dropped the cool pretend act. The initial reason she gave Rachel for her visit was just to see how she were. The petite woman sensed that there was more behind it, especially since the Latina seemed a little unsure around her, though not as uncomfortable as Blaine was. She tried to put Santana at ease, finally managing to coax the actual reason for the visit from her friend. Santana surprised her with a page filled with questions and thoughts she had prepared.

They were basically similar questions to the ones that Quinn had asked her before and she was genuinely astonished that Santana really wanted to know all these details. She tried to keep her answers short in the beginning, but Santana kept digging, needing to understand more about Rachel's situation. So Rachel elaborated a little more with each question, getting the feeling that Santana was really interested. This surprised the brunette. She had not thought someone else would want to know so much about her or her condition, much less Santana Lopez. The more she explained and let the other woman into her world and experiences, the more Santana dropped her guard.

While sitting at Rachel's kitchen counter and watching the brunette tentatively explain and answer her questions, Santana admitted to herself that Quinn had been right. It was good to talk to Rachel openly, it took the edge somehwhat off the whole deaf-thing. Understanding more about it made it also easier to communicate with her former Glee colleague. And Santana discovered that when ignoring the still slightly cumbersome act of having to write everything down, Rachel was actually easy and fun to be with and forthright with her answers. Something that was highly appreciated by Santana.

In the end they spent quite a nice, relaxed evening with a glass of wine. They ended up talking about Santana's new job and the people she came in contact with and how she loved pushing those corporate managers to their limit.

Remembering what had caused her to think back to that evening, Rachel zoomed back into the present, gazing at Santana's words in front of her.

Does that always happen in this business? That sucks!

Rachel crunched her brows, trying to figure out what Santana was referring to. Then she guessed that she was probably asking about Quinn having to stand-in on short notice.

"Well, not always, but it does happen. I had to cancel a trip to go skiing with a friend once because our other lead got sick. And she did not come back for three weeks, because she caught a really nasty flu. When she finally returned, I felt like falling into a coma and not wake up for the next three days." Rachel smiled.

Santana's pen poised over the paper, and then she scribbled the question down.

Do you miss it a lot?

Rachel narrowed her eyes at the query, then closed them for a moment before speaking, as if transporting herself back onto stage. Exhaling, she answered.

"Yes. Yes, I do. Not just the singing or acting, it's the whole atmosphere, the adrenaline, the tension before the beginning of the show, the rushing back and forth of the actors and dancers backstage, getting dressed, warming up, slipping into the character. And I always loved the final dress rehearsal. That is almost better than the premiere... " Her eyes took on a certain gleam as she remembered and Santana felt in her soul that whatever happened, Rachel needed to get back into the limelight somehow. However it might look like, but this girl needed to find a way someday to show off her talent in any way possible. No matter what.

"Well, Santana, you don't have to stay here if you want to go out, you know," Rachel then stated which startled the other woman out of her thoughts.

Who says I can't have a fun evening with you? Santana raised a perfectly arched eyebrow when Rachel had read her comment.

"Don't know, there are certainly more exciting things to do than hanging out with me."

Rachel did not know what brought her so down all of a sudden. She felt catapulted back seven years ago when even a glance from Santana Lopez in her direction would have been considered a miracle since she usually never gave her the time of day. Other than the times when they were singing and she was helping to win a championship for the Glee Club, Santana had not paid much attention to her.

It was strange that after all this time, after all her achievements, these old feelings would resurface. It had nothing to do with her deafness alone. It was just that Santana exuded such strength, toughness and security about herself that Rachel had a hard time finding her own standing in her presence. Even though Santana had done nothing to belittle her. She was just… Santana. When she had visited her in her apartment, asking her all these questions about her deafness, Rachel had not felt like this. Seeing or sensing Santana's insecurity towards her and knowing that it was up to Rachel to either fortify or quench it gave her a confidence that she now lacked. She let out a long breath. When she saw the Latina still sitting there, watching her, she was almost surprised.

She found a new question written on the paper.

Have you ever thought about turning to pure acting now instead of singing?

Rachel huffed. "Santana!"

What? You are a good actress. A very good one. Why not take it up again?

"Because I can't hear, Santana. Jesus, why do I keep repeating myself to remind you all of that? It seems like everyone around me does not hear what I'm saying. Why would anyone want to work with me? Besides, how many movies are there that feature a deaf character? How am I supposed to follow instructions, react to my co-partner et cetera? There are hundreds of actresses out there, great actresses that all have perfect hearing. And having a hearing actress learn ASL for a role is much easier than having a deaf actress learn the whole script – even that of her co-actors in order to know when her cues are up, and organising an interpreter for her all the time so she can understand what the director explains to her."

Yes, maybe there are thousands of actresses out there. But only one Rachel Berry. And this Rachel Berry I know has never – NEVER – let anything come between her and her dream.

"Santana, that Rachel Berry still had all the things going for her. That Rachel Berry did not have to cope with being deaf every damn day. And she did not have to wonder every day what the hell she should do with her life."

Look, Berry, there are so many people who did what they loved, even though everything stood against them, Paul McCartney's ex-wife became a model even though she had lost her leg in an accident. There is Marlee Matlin and even that Beethoven guy did what he loved no matter what.
If you don't go by the standards others have set, then you just have to set up your own standards!

Why not try to convince some producer that if they want to portray realistic characters, lives and stories, they have to choose an actor who has a realistic experience, without focusing everything on her disability. There are I don't know how many deaf, blind and otherwise - what's the word - handicapable people out there living their lives, managing their day to day business. Why not have someone like that in a movie without making the disability the main topic. Let it just be a fact and nothing more. That's a challenge I would dare to take on, Rachel. Or better, I would dare any director or producer to take on.
If you are convinced of yourself, of living your dream, of doing what you love most, then you can also manage to convince others.

Rachel understood that Santana had a valid point. But there was something else she just noticed and could not quite answer for herself.

"I don't know if I want to put myself in the spotlight, like…. this." She made a dismissive gesture towards her ear. "And in regards to your other point, that is exactly where the crux lies, Santana. I'm not convinced of myself yet. I'm not sure I could do it. Why do you all keep pushing me?"

Santana quickly placed her hand on Rachel's before drawing back to write.

Who else is pushing you? I am certain Quinn didn't ever mention something in this direction to you. I think you are the one who puta yourself under the most pressure, Rachel. Because I see this fire that is still burning inside you. And there is nothing that can extinguish it. I don't know many people with your strength and drive to achieve their dreams, Rachel. Don't forget your dream. Adapt it, if you must. But don't throw it away and forget about it!

Santana looked at her for a while, Rachel felt as if those dark eyes cut right through her and hit on the very essence of her soul. She was at a loss for words. What should she answer to that? It was true in a way. But she was also at a loss of ideas. The obstacle of her disability just seemed too big to overcome to follow her dream in any possible way. Not if her handicap was just so damn obvious. These thoughs seemed to have been written on her face as Santana's following question was spot on.

Rachel, why do you think you can only play roles that require a deaf actress?

The brunette stood up and threw her hands up in the air and let out an exasperated gasp. "Santana, you don't get it, do you?"

No, I don't, Rachel. Obviously, you can still speak perfectly fine.

"God, why does everyone keep saying that to me? Do you have any idea what that does to me? How would you feel if I kept dangling something in front of your face, something that you wish for with all your might, but you know you will never get it? How would you feel?"

Santana did not let herself be pushed off course. Well, Rachel, have you ever tried? How can you say you can't if you don't know?

Rachel gasped for air. She just could not believe she was having this conversation. She spoke the next words as if Santana were mentally debilitated, pronouncing every word very slowly. "Santana, I cannot hear myself. So I will not know how I sound. How will I ever know that I deliver the lines in the correct way?" Then she spoke normally again though more to herself. "Sometimes I keep asking myself why you and Kurt can't see the obvious."

This last remark puzzled the Latina.

Kurt? What does Kurt have to do with that?

"Nothing," Rachel shook her head. Then she let out a long breath. Santana sensed there was more to come and stayed quiet.

To her own surprise, Rachel found the courage to tell the other woman about the little "incident" with the piano. She sat back down.

"I didn't even notice that I was actually humming along. Kurt heard me. It was one of the most embarrassing moments in my whole life."

Why? What did he say?

This perked Santana's interest. Apparently, Rachel had not talked about this before and she wondered why she was the first person, besides Kurt, to know about this.

Rachel gave her a sideway glance and fiddled with her glass. "It doesn't matter what he said." She noted how Santana narrowed her eyes and hastened to add: "No. He wasn't mean or anything. So don't go jump on him, ok?"

The Latina mouthed an 'ok' and nodded once, trying to gauge what had happened between the two friends that Rachel had such difficulties talking about it. She stayed silent, quietly observing her friend as she continued to play with her glass. After another moment, Santana probed:

Whatever he said, it had you quite worked up. So if you want to talk about it, I am here, ok?

After reading the statement, Rachel exhaled, hesitated for another second and then blurted out: "Oh, he just wanted me to do it again. Said I was perfectly in tune. There, I said it. Happy now?"

She propped her elbows on the table, rubbing her temples. It was unfair to snap at Santana but this whole talk had her put quite on edge. This whole topic was like an ever-inflamed wound.

She felt a hand on her forearm and unwillingly turned her head, letting her gaze drop to the paper.

Why is this such a bad thing, Rachel?

"Because… because I miss it so much and even if I still might manage to hold one little tune, I will never know that. It will never be the same. Don't you get it?"

Ok, I can get that. Since you think that people do not see the obvious, maybe it is you who does not see it. I believe you are too much in your head. Stop thinking and assuming. Just try. You need to perform, Rachel. In whatever way possible. If you can't sing anymore, then act. At least give acting a try before throwing everything to waste. And you know what, for what it's worth, if there was one person on this god's earth who could sing with her ears closed, it would be you, Rachel Berry. You are the only person I personally believe who could pull it off. That's my opinion. But I also get that you don't want to touch upon that topic.

Rachel could only stare at Santana as she sat in her chair, calmly looking her square in the eye. The brunette only managed to shake her head at the words. The whole world must have gone nuts.

"Jesus. You don't know when to stop, do you, Santana?"

Nope. You know me. I am always straightforward and honest. Some call me a bitch because of that. I tell people what I think. And I didn't tell you that because I want to hurt you. I told you because I think everybody else is too chicken to do it. And either you get over it or you try it.

The last remark stung. Rachel banged her fork hard on the table and stood up, leaning heavily on her arms.

"Fuck you, Santana Lopez! You are a needling sneaking bitch! You just want people to dislike you, don't you? Why? Because you are afraid to get hurt if someone might actually like you? Is that why you always try to hit people where it hurts the most?"

She hardly ever used swear words. Rachel was convinced that one could live happily ever after without using them in ones daily language. However, in the rare cases when she did apply them, it was a sign that she was close to exploding. Her anger had started to boil and was ready to blow off the top. Even more so as the other woman seemed so unscathed by her hurt and anger. Slowly, Santana took up the pen and started writing again, hardly ever looking down on the page, all the while keeping Rachel in her gaze.

Don't deflect, Rachel. You know damn well what I said was true. That talent of yours did not die with your hearing. It will be more difficult to work out, yes, but it's still there. You've got nothing more to lose. You already lost everything. Start building up something new or remodel your old dream. That's all I'm saying.

Rachel slowly let her gaze crawl up from the page to Santana's face. She just sat there and stared at her with her damn black eyes, wearing that smug expression. What was it with the Latina that she always managed to needle her way into the most sensible spots of another person. She instinctively knew where their weakest point was and was never too shy to point it out to that person, whether they wanted to hear it or not. Santana might as well have punched Rachel right in the face. That would have had the same effect as those words.

Her eyes fell back on the page. She had nothing to lose. Right. Damn right.

While she was still staring at the words, Rachel felt a strange feeling inside her all of a sudden. It was building up in her stomach, growing, moving upwards. She could not hold it back and it just burst out of her.

The whole situation was so strange that Rachel's anger dissipated as if a plug had been pulled. These past weeks had turned her life around completely and sometimes it was just too unbelievable to grasp. Months ago she was so devastated and feeling utterly alone, now she was here in Quinn's apartment – her girlfriend Quinn's apartment - fighting with Santana Lopez, a former high school nemesis, throwing swear words at the Latina that she herself could not hear.

Everything seemed so absurd all of a sudden that she burst out laughing. At first, Santana shot her an astonished look and then the corners of her mouth curved upwards. Looking at Santana, Rachel saw her smile widen until she also started laughing.

Rachel fell down in her chair, holding her stomach. She could not stop. Hard as she tried, the laughter came bubbling up and every time she gazed at Santana, she had to laugh more seeing that the Latina also had to wipe away some tears that ran across her cheeks from laughing so hard.

When they finally managed to get a grip on themselves, Santana quickly placed her hand on Rachel's before drawing back to write.

You'll figure it out. I know you can still rock the damn show biz :-)! It would be nothing without a Rachel Berry!

This drew a small smile from Rachel.

I believe in you. You have done a great job getting back into contact with your friends, even with Jenna who you didn't know before. Rachel, you are a great person. Don't hide. Keep on going forward!

The petite woman had to digest the words and did not know how to comment on it.

"So, what do we do now with this evening?" Rachel asked after a moment, clearly distracting from the former discussed topic. Their food had gone cold by now and neither woman seemed to be hungry.

You know what, I got an idea.

The idea was bold and Santana did not know how Rachel would take it when she pulled her phone out of her pocket and quickly dialed a number. When the other person answered, Santana rapidly spoke a couple of sentences that were unreadable for Rachel as she had tilted her head down while talking, playing absentmindedly with her leftover food.

When she finished, she grinned at Rachel and got up.

"Let's go!" And Santana motioned towards the door with her head, seeing that Rachel had understood.

"Where are we going, Santana?" Rachel asked cautiously, not sure if she wanted to go on a wild ride through New York City with Santana Lopez.

The Latina just smiled, quirked an eyebrow and ever so slightly motioned with her head towards the door. Rachel slowly grabbed her jacket, wondering if she was going to regret this. Santana quickly turned back, grabbing another sheet of paper and the pen off the table, stuffing it into her pocket. Then she took Rachel by the shoulders and gently pushed her out of the door.

I have to say I really love Santana's character. She is great to give an edge to a scene. She has this certain attitude to get down to the grain, not stopping when it becomes painful. But that is sometimes where the relevant and important stuff lies.

...

Personal note: I am looking for a beta-reader for my second story 'A Lazy Day' as my original beta-reader unfortunately had to resign due to private reasons. If you have any recommendations or are up to the task yourself, please let me know! (The prologue is uploaded, so you can already have a rough idea what it is about.)