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Something To Think About

WHO: Rachel Berry

WHEN: Wednesday, January 27, 2021

WHERE: The Lopez-Pierce Apartment, Chelsea

WHAT: Rachel meets Santana and Brittany for dinner to share her latest life-changing news.

Rachel absently taps her fingernail against her glass of Sauvignon Blanc as she listens to Santana bitch about the latest case she's been working on. It's not that she's not listening exactly. (She's kind of not.) It's just that her mind is on the thing she really wants to say but hasn't found the right moment to say yet.

It's Wednesday evening, and she's sharing a holiday dinner with friends after wrapping up a mildly unproductive day at her workshop. It's not exactly a holiday, but Brittany has it in her head that she needs to celebrate Holocaust Remembrance Day with Rachel because Rachel is her closest Jewish friend. It's very weird and more than a little inappropriate, but sometimes it's just easier to not argue with Brittany about these things, and at least Rachel hadn't needed to worry about dinner today. Brittany may be a lot of things, but she usually manages to remember that Rachel doesn't eat meat. (It only took about six years.)

The spaghetti aglio e olio is excellent. (Santana had paired hers with a side of steak.)

The black streamers hanging around the apartment and the candles arranged in a Star of David are less excellent, but Rachel is ignoring them like a pro.

Quinn had been wise to politely decline her own invitation, although she'd also had the excuse of working extra hours to get one of the books that she's currently managing to press on time. Coming into the city on a Wednesday night during the evening commute just to spend an hour or two with their friends - because they are their friends again - before heading right back home just really isn't worth it.

"Are we having a high school flashback to your laryngitis episode?" Santana's annoyed voice finally cuts in, drawing Rachel's attention back from her musings. "Are you gonna sing 'The Climb' again?"

Rachel responds with an inelegant, "Huh?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "I asked if Henrietta Hayseed is still giving you lip. "Cause I'll go Lima Heights on her hick ass if you want." Her lips curl into an evil smirk. "It'll help me blow off some steam."

Rachel shakes her head. "Her name is Helena, and no." Although she does appreciate Santana's offer to dispose of her professional rivals for her, even if she does have ulterior motives. They truly have come a long way since high school. "She made the mistake of calling Kevin a hack so they cut her." And really, why a twenty year old actress who's only been in the chorus of an off-Broadway production would be so bold to an up-and-coming composer who'd plucked her from anonymity for his workshop is beyond Rachel. "We're currently down a Ruth again," and it may be partially Rachel's fault that they're having so much trouble casting the character since they'd wanted her for the part until she'd sung her way into Idgie instead, "and I spent a very unproductive day today trying to convince them to cast Stephanie in the part."

Her friend is currently unemployed, and Rachel would love to work with her again, and she trusts Stephanie to not stab her in the back for the better solo.

Santana's brows furrow over a frown. "Why unproductive? You two have mad chemistry."

Brittany nods in agreement. "I totally shipped you with her in your last show."

That apparently was a thing that happened a lot, though, really, it was Andy and Emily they shipped. "Which is apparently why they're reluctant," Rachel relays with a rueful smile. "They don't want anyone making comparisons to The Devil Wears Prada."

"Please, there's no comparison," Santana scoffs, sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed. "If your thing makes it to the stage, it's gonna be such a downer."

Rachel glares at her, crossing her own arms. "That's awfully judgy of you, Santana. The full book and score aren't even finished yet."

"The book is already a book, Berry," Santana reminds her testily. "The bisexual marries a dude, gets abused, then dies, and her lesbian lover ends up raising her kid alone."

Rachel huffs, fully offended by the oversimplification of the plot, and flails a hand in her direction. "That's not…you know what? You have no appreciation for nuanced drama."

"What I have no appreciation for is dead sapphics," Santana bitches haughtily. Rachel continues to pout at her, hoping that's not really a thing that might keep other women-loving-women away from her show. "Oh, chill out," her friend finally says, shaking her head. "I'll still come see your show anyway, along with all our friends, and it's not like Fabray won't show up a few dozen times with her pom-poms to cheer you on."

The mention of Quinn brings an instant smile to Rachel's face, even as Brittany asks, "We can do that? I'm totally bringing my pom-poms next time we go to a show," she tells her wife, eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh…can I wear my uniform too?"

Santana's complexion grows a little ruddy, and Rachel feels her smile turn bemused. "You still have that?"

Brittany nods happily. "Yeah, San likes it when I…"

"Britt, babe," Santana cuts in hastily. "How about we keep that for the bedroom, huh?"

"Sure," Brittany agrees with a shrug before turning her attention back to Rachel "Do you and Quinn play with her Flight Crew uniform in the bedroom too?"

Rachel feels her own face heat, and her eyes dart away self-consciously. "The team generally frowns on that." But what they don't know won't hurt anyone.

"Oh, you totally do," Santana accuses around devilish laughter. "God, a year later, and you're still so gross about her."

Rachel's smile is back in force, because, "I love her." And this feels like precisely the opening she's been waiting for. "In fact, we've recently decided to take our relationship to the next level."

Brittany gasps in delight, blue eyes wide. "You're getting married!" She bounces in her seat, clapping, "Yay!"

"No. No," Rachel denies, reaching a palm across the table towards Brittany in an attempt to calm her excitement and not failing to notice that Santana's expression doesn't match her wife's at all. "We're not quite at that level yet." She hopes they will be one day, and her smile widens. "But we are moving in together."

Brittany's excitement dims only marginally. "Yay for that too."

But Santana -

"You're not serious," she growls around an incredulous expression.

Rachel feels her smile waver slightly. "I am. Her roommate, Kaitlyn, just got engaged, and she's moving in with her fiancé in two months, so I asked Quinn to move in with me."

She's still incredibly excited about it, though she and Quinn haven't made any decisions about the when or where or how of it beyond the momentous decision to do it at all. They'd admittedly gotten a little carried away with the celebration of that momentous decision, but they still have two months to pull it all together, and Rachel has a perfectly good apartment that Quinn can move into if they don't find something to both of their likings (and price points) before then.

Santana plants her palms on the table in front of her and leans forward. "Are you out of your Broadway loving mind?"

Brittany instantly leans into her, hand on her arm. "Santana, baby. We're cool with Quinn again, remember?"

"No, I'm cool with the dating thing," Santana dismisses sharply. "But living together is something else entirely."

"The dating thing?" Rachel repeats crossly, quickly growing irritated with Santana's antagonistic attitude. "We're in a committed, loving relationship, Santana." Which she knows very well, and Rachel points an accusatory finger at her. "Where is this even coming from? You forgave Quinn months ago. You're even friends again. Well, almost," she amends with a frown. "What passes for friendship with the two of you anyway." The snark and occasional digs about their unfortunate shared past are more affection than animosity these days.

Santana puffs out an agitated breath and drags a hand through her hair. "I have forgiven her, okay. I get it. I was a bitch when I found out she was back in your life, but I gave her a chance, and I get that she's changed." Her expression turns remorseful. "I see how happy you are with her, Rachel."

All of Rachel's righteous anger fades into confusion. "Then I don't understand why you're not happy for me."

Santana purses her lips. "She's had Kaitlyn all this time, keeping an eye on her and making sure she doesn't flip her shit again. And now, all of a sudden, it's just gonna be you?"

Okay, the righteous anger is back again. "You don't think I can deal with one of her episodes? God, Santana. We've been together for almost a year now. I've been through episodes with her before."

Santana nods in acknowledgment, but she doesn't look happy about it. "Not that many though. I mean, I guess you've been handling it well enough so far, but you've never needed to do it by yourself. You've always had Kaitlyn there to take the lead."

"I can take care of my girlfriend, Santana," she defends hotly, not liking the implication. So what if Kaitlyn has been looking out for Quinn too. "I'm not a child who needs to be told what to do."

"No." Santana flings her hands up in frustration. "You're a fucking Broadway star who's barely home when you're doing a show," she points out in exasperation. "I know you had a nice little honeymoon phase with Q after you took your last bow as Andy, but you just made this brand new commitment to Fried Green Tomatoes. You're already spending long, unpredictable hours in your workshop. What's gonna happen if it goes into production for real and you're gone all afternoon and night and Quinn starts spiraling all alone in your apartment?" The picture Santana is painting isn't one that Rachel wants to see, and she really wishes her friend would stop talking now, but of course she doesn't. "You're gonna get home at two in the morning and walk into a manic Quinn Fabray bouncing off your walls or worse." She points a finger at Rachel, frowning deeply. "Are you really ready for what that's gonna be like? What it could mean for Quinn?"

Santana's entire posture is begging Rachel to hear her and understand why she's concerned, and Rachel hates so very much that she does, but she stiffens her spine and digs in her heels. "I know what could happen, Santana." She's seen Quinn through some pretty bad moments, and she's all too aware that there could be worse ones ahead. "But I know that Quinn and I can get through anything as long as we're together."

Santana sags back in her chair, looking frustrated. "You're still such a hopeless fuckin' romantic."

"San," Brittany coos softly, rubbing her arm.

Santana sighs in resignation. "I know I'm not gonna change your mind, Rachel. But please, for both your sakes, make sure you know exactly what you're signing up for here before you commit to this," she pleads, her tone uncommonly soft with concern. "And, for god sake, be honest with yourself about whether you can really handle it."

Beneath the table, Rachel clenches her hands into fists. "I can handle it."

She can.

"I have faith in you, Rach," Brittany assures her with a gentle smile. "You and Quinn belong together."

Rachel exhales in an attempt to release some of the tension she's now carrying thanks to Santana's unwelcome warning, and she forces a faint smile of her own. "Thank you, Brittany."

"Yeah, congrats, whatever," Santana mutters, pushing up from the table. "I'm gonna grab another beer." And then she disappears into the kitchen.

Brittany stares after her wife with a frown before she turns back to Rachel with a sympathetic expression. "Santana's just worried about both of you. Living with someone is kind of a big change to make, and, like, moving is always super stressful anyway."

Tension coils in Rachel's stomach all over again at the needless reminder. BIg changes aren't exactly great for Quinn. But she nods and says, "I know."

She does.

Rachel has absolutely no doubts about her decision whatsoever; no matter what disasters Santana imagines could happen.

She can do this, and she will.

#faberry rp #para #para25 #solo #something to think about

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