Title: For The First Time
Pairing: Naya Rivera/Heather Morris
Rating: PG
Summary: They may have got lost along the way, but maybe they just needed a little time to remember why they fell in love in the first place.
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.
Note 1: RPF. Was listening to this song (For The First Time – The Script) and got HeYa feelings.
Note 2: Also, with all these people trolling us, I think we deserve a little fluffy HeYa in our lives (even if this is angst to begin with.)

She doesn't even know why she's doing this. Sitting in a bar in the middle of LA, drinking JD on the rocks and sulking over someone who doesn't care anymore.

She thinks that maybe the last part is the worst. Because whilst she's hurting and withholding the urge to slam her forehead to the bar top and let the tears fall freely, Heather isn't. Heather's probably happy, off with Taylor who as much as Naya hates to admit, is actually a pretty decent guy. He's the kind of guy Mrs. Morris wants for Heather. He's the kind of guy Naya would want for Heather if she hadn't fallen madly in love with the blonde years ago.

But it doesn't stop her from sitting in this dingy, dark bar on the corner of Melrose Avenue, wallowing in the strange melancholy the setting provides.

It hadn't hit her until that Brittany and Santana kissed how far her and Heather have grown apart. Of how somewhere they got lost along the way, and just lost control of everything. She didn't know until that defining moment where their lips touched in the middle of the 'Sugar Shack'. And after leaving set, watching Heather smile at her phone because Taylor just sent her a text saying that they were going out tonight, it hadn't hit her that not only had they grown apart... But they'd out grown each other.

Denying their feelings for each other got old a while ago. They both accepted it, and realized that maybe something could have happened if the timing were better. But that just happens, doesn't it? Nothing ever happens when you want it too. Always one step out of sync. Ironic considering they'be been dancing circles around each other since they first met.

But that was their downfall, really. Their misstep.

Fate seemed to have led them together, but it had created no such further path and as time went on, and as Brittana came alive, their relationship seemed to diminish and life just passed them by. Before Naya knew it, Heather was moving in with Taylor and she was dating Matt. And things just continued from there.

Things just didn't work out the way they were supposed too. Well, the way she hoped they would anyway.

"Rough night?"

She doesn't look up to the voice and respond immediately. She just shrugs, makes a noise that sort of sounds like she's agreeing and watches the amber liquid slosh around the ice cubes in her glass. It's pretty stupid of her, because she's so focused on her own thoughts that she doesn't realize who's talking to her until they're too close for comfort. Too close to be a stranger. And certainly too close to just be a friend.

"We all have those."

Sucking in her lips, she inhales deeply and twists her head to the side. Blue eyes are right there, staring down at her with an understanding that no amount of time could build. The type of understanding that only grows from two people who were supposed to know each other. Who were supposed to meet, and laugh, and cry together. Two people who were supposed to be together.

"Heather?"

A dazzling set of teeth brighten up a creamy face instantly and Naya feels a little better just from that. "Hey stranger."

Heather slides into the booth opposite her, hands taking refuge in the centre of the table. Silently requesting another set of hands to comfort them. But Naya doesn't give in. She can't anymore. Way back when things weren't so complicated, she wouldn't even hesitate before reaching across, tangling their fingers together and running her thumb across the back of knuckles she's so familiar with.

But things have changed. They have changed.

"Where's Taylor?" Naya breathes out in the same way that says please don't tell me.

Heather hears it though. She always hears it. "You don't want to know that, Nay."

A bitter chuckle bubbles from the back of her throat and she feels the corners of her lips tug up. "Social codes and conventions rule it's polite."

"We're not strangers, Naya. You don't need to act like we don't have a history."

Naya doesn't respond.

Instead replacing it with mulling over their past. Of all those times they were carefree. Spending nights together, huddled under a blanket and trading soft, lazy kisses, noses nudging against each other and teeth bumping when they couldn't help but smile into the kiss because the world couldn't see them in the darkness.

The world couldn't see their feelings when they were underneath the safety of that red and black tartan cover.

The world couldn't tear them apart.

"Don't you think that would have been easier?" Naya asks with nostalgia dripping over her sentence. "If we didn't have a past."

Heather looks away, pain washing across blue oceans. She brings her hands away from the table, tucking them into her lap as she searches for the words to say. Not just any words, though. The right words.

They'll learn in time that sometimes words are overrated.

"We can't change what's happened," Heather lets out through a long exhale, a second before gazing into anguished brown. "I wish we could, but we can't."

They both share a glance that speaks so much more than what they can vocalize. It speaks volumes, and Naya can only endure it for about four seconds before it winds around her heart and clenches painfully tight.

"At least we don't have to pretend everything's okay, anymore," she says, with resolution lacing her tone. "It makes things..." She wants to say easier. But since they realized nothing in the world could alter their paces until they were in synchronization, it's been everything but easy.

"Maybe one day when we're older we'll meet again and things can be different." Heather tries, in that hopeful voice that can always manages to ignite a spark in Naya's heart.

Naya pinches her lips up at the side. She wants to nod and agree and give Heather the answer she knows she wants. But things just don't happen like that in real life.

They're not in a make-believe world where anything can happen.

They're not Brittany and Santana who are soul mates and will never find another.

They can try all they want, but that's something they'll never be: together.

"A girl can dream," she says, offering a smile that she knows doesn't reach her eyes.

Heather gives a weak smile in response and then it goes silent.

Naya hates it. She fucking hates it because they used to be to talk for hours upon upon. And times where they ran out of things to say, which was barely ever, they were just content in each other's presence and never had to endure that awkward, uncomfortable atmosphere lingering in the air because neither were conversing.

They spend the next hour just staring at each other with the knowledge that there's no hope for them.

Rihanna knows her stuff.

Time goes quickly.

A year and a half to be precise. And even though there's the saying time just flies when you're having fun, it certainly doesn't apply to Naya's situation. She thinks its down to sadness. Wherever that lingers, which seems to be all around, she just wants to run from it. And the chase is a struggle, but it makes time speed up. It makes everything blur by.

And that's how she got to this moment so damn quickly.

Glee finished filming episode twenty two of season four about five hours ago. The entire cast, well, the ones that remained, as well as the crew all decided to go out for drinks in celebration. Or more of a celebratory goodbye. But Naya didn't. She opted out to Lea's proposal. The thought of splitting from people she's known, loved and seen nearly everyday for the past four years was just too much to endure in public.

(She tries not to think that of that one particular person lingering in the back of her mind, that makes her heart throb like it's missing a vital part already.)

So she's doing it at home instead.

It's a Friday night. The TV's blaring, playing some reality show, but she's not really focused. Even though she's yelling at herself not to think about what's going on, about how she'll lose contact with the people closest to her (because realistically, she knows she will) and how now everything's going to change... She is. It's the only thought racing through her mind.

Well, that and how she's going to be losing contact with a piece of herself. But then again, she gave that piece away a long time ago. Except this time it'll be in Arizona... Or London. Or somewhere a really fucking long way away because Naya knows Heather won't stay in LA. Not with her dancing ability. Naya knows it won't be long before some top notch dance company whisk Heather and her skill away. Skill like that doesn't stick around in one place for too long.

Before she knows what's happening, tears are falling down her face and she sniffs and wipes furiously at her cheeks. It's pointless, because the moisture she's erasing is quickly replaced by more and more. So she just stops, curls up with her knees to her chest and lets them fall.

Saturday night comes, and Heather knocks on her door unexpectedly, holding two bottles of red wine and an apologetic smile.

"Can I come in?"

Naya ducks her head, trying to shield the bloodshot eyes she knows she's sporting and steps aside. The other girl breezes by, quickly heading into the kitchen to grab two glasses before taking a seat on the left hand side of the couch (where there used to be a mould of her butt on the seat cushion).

Following shortly after, Naya tentatively takes a seat on the opposite side, (as far as she can get away without falling over the arm), and curls up protectively. Heather twists the caps off the wine (she's never been one for expensive wine. "They all taste the same" she once said, which made a Cheshire grin spread across Naya's face) and pours two glasses, sliding one across the coffee table and taking one for herself.

"So how's things?"

Naya almost lets out a bitter laugh. "Not much has changed since yesterday, Hem-Heather." She quickly corrects herself. Because the nickname sends a jolt of pain to her heart.

"Right," the other girl breathes out knowingly, tilting the glass and taking a long sip.

"How are things with you?"

It's automatic to fill the silence. But Naya still feels the sting of pain as she actually has to ask nowadays, like they're complete strangers. Back in the day, she could just tell. But now she has to be told. That sucks.

"Things are good," Heather responds, nodding. "Ashley's been asked to direct a movie next year."

Naya smiles weakly. "That's cool."

"Yeah, she's pretty happy."

"Are you?"

Her heart almost stops right then when the question spills out. She didn't mean to say it. But there's still that stupid thing inside of her that screams you do care so stop pretending you don't. Their friendship, or relationship, or whatever the hell it was, was one of those that never really disappears. No matter the distance or time in which they've seen each other. There will always be that part lingering in the pit of her stomach missing what they had. Missing what they could have been if the timing was right.

"Happiness isn't something that can be achieved overnight," Heather responds mysteriously. "It only happens when the timing is right."

That pretty much does it for Naya. The tears begin to fall. Pouring out her eyes until everything blurs and strong arms wrap around her. She feels slender fingers comb through her hair. Familiar lips press against her forehead, hushed apologies flow through her ears and later she'll wonder if they were actually spoken.

It takes around five minutes, but slowly the tears die down and she can't feel anymore pushing through. She sobs loudly, leans away from Heather's touch like it's a scorching hot pan and pushes as far away as physically possible. She ignores the flash of hurt that flickers behind blue eyes because why should she feel bad? She's the one hurting with no-one to run too. The least Heather can give her is the bitter sweet satisfaction of knowing her feelings are being reflected. Even if they aren't as intense.

"Do you remember when Dijon fell over the the curb when we came back from Elements that one night?"

That's so not what Naya was expecting to hear. Especially considering the tears she just cried. But she still nods because she may be a lot of things. But rude she is not.

"And broke his toe," she finishes.

Heather lets out a small chuckle. It makes Naya's heart jump a little. "And he couldn't dance for the entire week."

"And Santana had to say that Matt had a spider in his ear."

Soft laughter fills the room for a few seconds, replacing the heavy atmosphere clinging to their hearts and weighing down their spirits. Blue and brown eyes meet, gazing into each other deeply and suddenly it's like it's just them. No-one or nothing else exists. Naya thinks its a little easier this way. Even if they're just pretending.

So she continues.

"Or when Amber fell off the stage on our first tour," Naya says, in between giggles.

It'll either be tonight or tomorrow, or even next week, but the time will come where she'll hate herself for giving in so easily.

"Or when I nearly kicked you in the head on one of our performances of Valerie."

They keep giggling, and it takes an hour or two, but they finally finish the two bottles of wine. They've been reminiscing and remembering all the times they spent together as a group. Not individually, because Naya couldn't bare that. But as a whole cast.

They talk about both tours. They talk about incidents with bad lighting or wrong footing. They talk about stupid little jokes they traded back in the day, and even through the sadness they feel at the end of the night, they keep smiling at each other, trying to ignore the unshed tears glossing over their eyes.

Heather leaves at midnight, offering a hug that Naya can't bring herself to take.

It's Sunday, now, and everything's back to normal.

(Normal being depression 2.0)

She ends up on the couch again, moving to the far side of it, back against the armrest and legs out along the width of the cushions. Not for any specific reason she tries to convince herself. (Except that in the back of her mind she knows the space between her feet and the opposite armrest fits a specific body that was there not even 24 hours ago.)

All the tears have gone now. There are physically no more to cry. And even though it's stupid, she kind of enjoyed being able to literally pour out her emotions. Because without it, she's just numb. Feeling like everything good in the world has just been sucked out by some invisible force.

It's kind of ironic that she's feeling like this. Because she can just imagine Santana doing this if Brittany ever left her. Except their storyline was left with them happy. In love. Heading off to college and starting a new life together.

In the back of her mind, she makes a wish that the tables were turned.

The sound of the locks on the front door make her head snap around. She watches in shock as a flash of black and blonde whips through the door, kicking it closed and makes its way over towards her. The sofa dips, and she feels her legs being nudged apart to make room for a slender body, which slips between them, back resting against her chest a second later.

Her heart's pounding and there's no words to express how she feels right now. Literally nothing. But she still blinks a couple of times to make sure this is real. That she's not going to wake up with dried tear stains on her cheeks, an empty bottle of JD rolling about on the floor next to her and a heart full of ache.

Except when her eyes open, it's still here. Heather's lying with her. On her couch. Munching away on a slice of Hawaiian pizza she just took out the takeaway box on her lap like everything's going to work out.

"So, what are we watching?"

Perfectly shaped eyebrows shoot up, meeting her hairline. "Jersey Shore. Heather, what about Tay-"

"Awesome." Heather finishes her mouthful and turns slightly, offering out the half eaten slice of pizza. "Want a slice?"

Naya eyes the pizza quickly, then flickers up to meet blue. "But what about Tay-"

"There is no Taylor anymore," Heather cuts off. "So do you want a slice or not? You're interrupting the show."

Naya can't prevent the grin that spreads across her face. Or the way her heart thuds so loud against her chest that it could possibly break through the skin.

There's so many things they need to talk about, and discuss. But when the smile is mirrored, Naya just leans forward, takes a bite and chews gratefully, knowing they have enough time for that.

"Hey! I said would you like a slice," Heather cocks a brow, playfully. "Not a bite of mine."

"I know, but I didn't want another slice. I just wanted yours."

It's some strange type of metaphor. Or hidden meaning. Or something along those lines. But Heather still gets it anyway judging by the Cheshire grin pasted on her face and the sparkle brightening those already incredibly blue eyes. Heather shakes her head, then leans back again and returns her attention to the TV. Letting out a long exhale, it's almost automatic for Naya to slide her arms around the other girls waist and tug until there's no room left between them.

She buries her face into blonde hair, inhales deeply, repeating those four little words again and again because it's about so much more than a piece of pizza.

Because being with Heather is easier than breathing.

Being with her is seeing the sunshine on a winters day.

Being with her is just like having everything good in the world in the palm of her hands.

So yeah, they may have got lost along the way. But maybe they just needed a little time to remember why they fell in love in the first place.