Rachel couldn't help but feel ecstatic. It was just past noon, and the both of them had been performing for nearly two and a half hours, their selections mostly from the Christmas catalogue, considering the festive date. Despite not having celebrated Christmas as a child, she'd always loved the carols and classic songs about the holiday. Additionally, living with Santana had allowed her the opportunity to live through one of the celebrations, her roommate having been surprisingly committed to the festivities. It hadn't been much, but they'd decorated a bit, adorned one of Kurt's plants with a big gold star sticker, watched some films, sang some songs, and exchanged gifts. Only one each, though, Rachel had insisted; while it was a bit surprising at the time to see Santana's reluctance, the rule had been followed.

Well, it had mostly been followed; Santana had, underneath the traditional Christmas-themed wrapping paper, double wrapped the gift in the recipe for her own Christmas cookies and butter tarts. There hadn't been a year since where she'd refrained from making them during the holiday season, and if she still had time when she got home, Rachel was pretty positive she'd have the ingredients to make them on Christmas day. She'd given Santana a stuffed elephant, because the girl had seemed to always tackle big tense issues without any regard for tact, yet it always ended up for the better. Rachel had felt kind of proud of her gift, and was certainly thrilled when Santana laughed at it and couldn't keep the smile off her face. Besides, she knew that Santana got lonely, and hoped it had helped a little some nights.

But when Rachel had opened Santana's gift and found the apparently home-made journal resting there, she'd honestly felt as if she'd miscalculated. It certainly wasn't the prettiest gift in the world; most of the pages were out of alignment a little, some larger than others, some made of different materials, some thicker than others. Yet, on every other page, there was a reminder of her past or present; sometimes quotes from herself, Mister Schuester or fellow glee club members, sometimes recaps of past events complete with Santana's little personal interpretation, and sometimes photos. Most were official, like yearbook photos, or ones that she'd approved, like the ones for holiday celebrations during club events. Others were candid, some taken by members, some by JBI, and some by complete strangers from what Rachel could guess. It was basically a big, motivational tome full of her successes, as well as the failures she'd learned from and overcome. At the time, she and Santana had just started being on pretty good terms, and that book had been a big opportunity to both get a glimpse of how Santana's mind worked, and record their growing friendship.

Rachel hadn't looked at that book in years, not since the split, but with the woman sitting beside her, both of them singing carols, she finally felt like skimming through it again. And maybe she was feeling particularly exuberant, and maybe there was a tiny minority of patrons that weren't as into the holiday music as they were, but it didn't matter at that moment. Not while they were enjoying their second Christmas together.

Heck, she'd even been able to get Santana to let her sing 'Oh Holy Night', which was obviously met with applause. Rachel had, after all, used that song for her freshman Winter Showcase, for which she'd been given a standing ovation by some of the best professors and students in music. While she'd certainly been humbled through the years, it was one of a few songs where she felt her old self shine through, where she knew she was brilliant and worthy of acclaim.

Even with the odd positive reminder of her past successes and naïve dreams, Rachel still found it all too easy to escape the acclaim and just let herself relax and be happy about spending time together with the woman beside her again. It was nice to have her 'partner in crime' back. And when they'd taken the request for 'Baby it's Cold Outside', and Santana surprisingly was willing to play the 'mouse', Rachel had let her 'wolf' out to play. It wasn't often that she'd had the freedom to be more playful than would otherwise be appropriate, and Santana had naturally slipped into the coy, flirtatious role that the crowd seemed to adore. The woman had acted out each line with gestures, facial expressions, body language and everything else that had always made Rachel believe that Santana could excel in musical theatre or acting. Rachel knew that she'd stolen the show as Maria in West Side Story during their senior year, but Santana had been impressive in her own role as Anita. The same tension from that performance returned in full during the song, and she knew that Santana felt it too. And that gave her hope.

Rachel was considering a lunch break of sorts, to give them both a well-deserved breather, but Grace scurried across the aisle and knelt by her friend's side before she could announce anything, whispering something in her friend's ear. Santana had started the morning off in a merely okay mood, but once the mother and daughter had returned to listen to them perform, the woman's mood had risen substantially. However, as she watched the two quietly converse, Santana just seemed to grow more and more confused. Deciding that she was well within her rights to eavesdrop, she leaned closer, just catching their hushed words.

"…sure you got the name right? It's not on my album." Santana whispered, her brow furrowing as Grace looked down shyly.

"It was on a club's youtube page. I was looking you up last night." The girl noted with the cutest little smile; it was clear to Rachel that as much as Grace seemed to like her voice, the girl was quite charmed by Santana.

The woman in question fell into her usual nervous tick, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand, looking adorably uncertain. Rachel couldn't help but wonder what the girl had dug up from her friend's live shows, and couldn't help but be a little intrigued considering Santana's reaction. "I didn't know anyone recorded that show. There were like, maybe fifteen people there." The woman stated, sounding a little reluctant, but it seemed like the girl knew Santana's weakness and tossed out a brilliant pout that pretty much seemed to make up her friend's mind for her. "Jeez, okay, alright? Put that lower lip away before you kill someone. I just…I gotta remember how to play it. That was the only time outside of twice in my room that I ever actually performed it, so…yeah."

Rachel's eyes grew wide at the admission, Grace's following suit as well; she had heard from Santana that she had a lot of unrecorded songs laying around, and considering the short length of open-mic gigs, she figured Santana would have only been pushing the material from her album. It was exciting to hear something relatively new.

"So, uh…I never really knew what to do with this one. It was the first song I ever wrote, so maybe you'll enjoy it? Just a heads up if you decide to toss fruit and veggies at me in protest…I'm hungry, so I'll probably be cool with it. If you really want to torment me, request Barbra Streisand songs." Santana started off as she finished tuning her guitar. She caught the woman's sly little wink after the Barbra reference; while she certainly hadn't appreciated the assertion that Barbra was torturous to endure, she knew that Santana would have worked through the songs happily anyway, so she offered a smile in return.

The song sounded immediately similar to the tone of the album, which she hadn't been expecting, if she were to be honest. She'd expected some sort of vocal showcase song, or some unorganized half-developed bluesy song, but the slow guitar-work kind of did away with that prediction.

"In a moment, I could be gone. In a moment, you could be gone too. Here is to now." Santana sang, her bluesy voice clear and soulful as ever. The woman's eyes were closed, but even though she couldn't see it in her dark brown orbs, her body was showing just how vulnerable that song made her. It was entrancing how the woman seemed to just flip this internal switch, exuding a passion that she hadn't seen through their performances thus far. "The light hits your face shining gold. Air like a blanket, protect this dream… that I want to leave. 'Cause it's about something…finally feeling right. We're making something out of nothing when we're waiting on the sun to rise."

Rachel cocked her head to the side, taking in the woman's words; she'd always enjoyed lyrics when they were literal and descriptive, as she felt it made music easier to connect with, but sometimes she was good with slightly more abstract work. Though I'm not sure she's really hiding much there…she said it was her first song, right? I wonder when she wrote it… she mused as Santana finger-picked away, clearly about to start the next verse, unless her friend had eschewed all structure in her first song, which Rachel imagined would have been a good reason to keep the song hidden away. The first bit just makes perfect sense…Santana's always lived for the present, and she's always been something of a flight-risk…but what dream is she thinking about exactly? And why would she want to protect it when she wants to leave it? When it's 'feeling right'?

"You left me guessing what you want. Careful calculations keep us riding in the wind. Just let me go." Santana continued as she transitioned into strumming, Rachel picking up clues where she can. Did she meet someone after the split? Maybe they were getting along, but the other person wouldn't commit to her? I know Santana, she dances around everything, so maybe this other person did too, and she couldn't take it? I'm not sure…

"These kind gestures, they tug and they pull me. And if I leave you on a pedestal, I could end all that I know… but I'm still holding on." Rachel could hear the potency of the conflict in the woman's voice, Santana having clearly thought highly of whoever she was singing about. She was still confused as to what it all meant, but on a basic level, it seemed like she was getting along with someone she really liked, and felt like she had to leave because either something would go wrong, or that things would only be good for so long. Which seemed to make sense, considering how evasive Santana had always been, but the finer details eluded her. " 'Cause it's about something…finally feeling right. We're making something out of nothing when we're waiting on the sun to rise. It's about something…finally feeling right. We're making something out of nothing when we're waiting on the sun to rise."

Rachel and Grace gave the woman light applause, which she felt was a little more appropriate than anything boisterous, given how shy and hesitant Santana had been about playing the song. However, even she stilled for a moment when other members of their audience started clapping; her eyes quickly darted to her friend, whose eyes were still closed tightly, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she repeatedly nodded ever so slightly. Rachel had questions, but figured they'd best be served for a later time; she wanted to take advantage of that momentum.

"San, that was wonderful. Do you have any other unpublished material you could play? Everyone seemed to really like it." She noted quietly with slightly restrained enthusiasm. Rachel didn't want to push Santana into any decision or anything, after all, but she did think that since some were still clapping, there was definitely room for plugging her material.

"I'm not sure, it…a lot of it's a bit personal, you know?" Santana whispered shyly, her eyes pleading for Rachel to understand, but it was a difficult task, all things considered. Rachel had been a student of music all of her life, and if there was one word that she felt described it, it was passion, and that could only come from individual, personal experiences.

"That's what music's for, though. I'm sure others would love to hear more of your passionate creations if they're anything like the last one…people relate to passion, San." Rachel stated, hoping that the woman would stop digging in her heels and just let the small moment of success lead the way, even if just for a little while.

Santana's face scrunched up a little before she offered a small shrug. "I'll consider it, okay? They probably just want more carols now." she remarked quietly before looking out at the crowd. "Thanks for that, really. You've all been so awesome during our time here, and I really appreciate it. If, uh…anyone wants to make any requests, we can start that up again, or if you've been digging the festive feel we can keep on with the carols."

"You could do the song you've been working on?" Rachel blurted out, immediately regretting it, because she knew that the woman wasn't likely ready for that step quite yet, given that the song was in its infancy.

Santana though, instead of looking upset or hesitant, just laughed. "Rach, it's not exactly child friendly." Her friend said, nodding to Grace and the girl's seemingly appreciative mother. Despite the absolutely sound rationale, she couldn't help but pout a little, feeling a little desperate to hear those words put to music. "Ugh, fine…but all I can commit to is a 'maybe', and only when we're back in New York. If you're nice, I'll give you a private show, and if you annoy me too much I'll make you wait for my next gig."

Rachel nodded excitedly, pleased with either option that Santana laid out. Sure, she was impatient, and would likely continue to pry before the end of the night, but right then, Rachel was satisfied with knowing that she'd hear it sooner than later.

"What was the name of that song? Is it original? I didn't recognize it, and it's not coming up on any of the lyrics sites I've searched." One man stated from the front of the crowd, phone in hand as he determinedly tapped away on the device, his eyes flickering between it and Santana. Her friend nodded slowly, not likely accustomed to her audience growing after singing one of her own songs.

"Yeah, it's not on any of my albums or anything, so you wouldn't find it anywhere. I think I named it 'Waiting for the Sun to Rise', though. It's been a few years since I last played it." Santana explained with a smile, earning a nod from the man.

"Cool. If you're taking requests, could you do another original?" The question seemed to catch Santana entirely off guard, leaving her gaping at the man, who looked on expectantly, some others nodding in agreement nearby. It took physical prodding and poking from both Rachel and her partner-in-crime Grace to get the woman out of her stupor.

Santana gave a slow nod, allowing herself an uncertain nervous smile before she looked at Rachel with a face that clearly displayed her panic, as if she were asking her what to do. Rachel took the woman's hand and gave it a squeeze. "They want an encore, Santana." She whispered almost silently, her friend's eyes widening at the realization. Before more panic set in, she tugged on Santana's arm, regaining her full attention. "You were born for this."

Her friend nodded and picked up her guitar again, turning back to face the audience. "Sure…I can do that, yeah. I'm seeing a lot of people here around my age…and I'm pretty sure most of you weren't really told how to grow up, or what it'd be like. I wrote this one because sometimes we end up in places we didn't expect to be, places we didn't really want to be, places that might have changed us, but…all you can do is just keep moving until you find somewhere that feels right. Kind of fitting that I'm playing this in an airport, with planes set to travel around the world, so…well…here's to finding our way. And to all you lucky folk who have, cherish the heck out of it." Santana rambled softly, clearly nervous but the woman seemed to gain a few shreds of confidence after her little spiel. "This one's called 'Lost Coastlines'."

Rachel couldn't help but agree, having decided on her own destination already, hoping it would make for a great fit. She just needed Santana to see things her way, but as time passed, her doubts and worries over that subject began dissipating. With the snowfall fading outside, it was only a matter of time before they'd be heading home. Rachel just hoped that she'd find the courage to do something before then.

Hours later, Santana was still kind of basking in her moment of glory. She'd ended up performing four original songs before bringing the focus back to carols and other cover songs, so that Rachel could be included. She'd had a surprising amount of fun; gigs hadn't been exciting or easy in a long time, and it was nice to get some positive feedback for the first time in a very, very long time. Santana also hadn't missed the fact that a few of the people in the crowd had been recording most of their performances, which was kind of flattering. Sure, she knew most were when Rachel was doing her thing and putting on a vocal clinic, but some of the performances that she'd lead had been recorded as well, which made for a bit of an ego boost. Hearing people compliment her original music was just icing on the proverbial cake. In that mindset, in that environment, she could have sung for forever, but at seven eighteen in the evening, she received a notice that her flight would be boarding at eight-thirty.

It was a strange experience, reading that text; she'd grown to enjoy their little nook, as well as their little performance set-up, and while she was excited at the prospect of not being trapped anymore, she didn't particularly want to leave yet. Especially considering the fact that she was at a fairly nice restaurant in the confines of the airport, sitting across from Rachel. It was especially weird that they'd been trapped since the previous morning, yet it barely felt like any time had passed.

They'd thanked everyone shortly after receiving the alert, giving a little extra attention to Grace and her mother for their support; the both of them had exchanged contact info with the family. Santana knew Rachel did so mostly because Santana offered her own, but she really did want the best for the girl. Call it selfish and self-centred, but she saw her own dreams in that girl, and wanted them to come true for her if that was what Grace aspired toward. She'd been through so many trials and knew enough about the business of music to give some pointers. And she knew that Rachel could provide some tips of vocal practices if need be.

The pair had left the crowd and made their way to grab some food before take-off, not having eaten anything more than breakfast that day, something Rachel had harped on about through much of the afternoon. Santana didn't see the girl running off to get food or anything, so she figured that them playing music simply won out as the diva's top priority, which was pretty cool, considering Rachel loved her routines and schedules. It WAS nice, though, to finally grab food and enjoy that last hour with her old roommate, especially someone as special as Rachel. It didn't hurt that she also had a delicious hot chocolate, a Portobello burger, and some tasty mashed potatoes on the plate in front of her. Sure, Santana kind of really wanted a real hamburger, or a pulled pork sandwich, or even the grilled pacific salmon, but she knew it could irk Rachel's gentle vegan heart; her meal was pretty alright anyway, even if there were tastier options. The hot chocolate helped make up for it, at least. That, and watching Rachel happily mow down her weird vegan pasta and a glass of red wine; she'd almost forgotten how the girl could just magically eat a full plate of food quicker than nearly anyone she'd ever known.

"So what do you have lined up in New York when you get back?" Santana asked, curious as to the diva's plan of action; she knew Rachel always set up plans, contingency plans, lists, PowerPoint presentations, and more whenever it came to her dreams or her career. Well, she wanted to see if that part of the Rachel she knew was still around, as the diva had certainly altered her behavior to a degree since they'd lived together.

"Currently, I don't have any concrete prospects for stage work, but I do have my regular night-club gigs, and I can ride the 'Mamma Mia!' money for a while until I find something else, or my agent does. I'm sure that I could find something in Brooklyn to do, but I'd prefer getting back across the bridge to Manhattan again. Even more pressing, I need to find a new apartment." Rachel rambled, her traditional 'Berry intensity' returning as she detailed the issues in her life. Apartment hunting seemed like a pretty easy thing, though, considering the rental market in New York at the moment.

"What , noisy neighbours? Drug dealing landlords?" Santana asked, knowing full well how bad some neighbours could be. Her current one was an elderly lady, but before her there was a drug dealer and his junkie friend, and the amount of shouting, window breaking and chaos had often kept her up over the months.

Rachel shook her head as she grimaced. "I haven't been that unfortunate, but my landlord is selling the property off, so we've all been evicted and need to be out in a few weeks. It's probably quite illegal to give such short notice, but I don't have the funds to get into a court battle, and I'm sure I'll find something else soon enough."

"If you're absolutely desperate…" Santana started before she even realized what she was saying, and once the words were out in the open, she didn't have the heart or guts to take any of it back. "You can stay at my place. I have room, kind of. It's not nice, it's in a shitty neighbourhood, and probably really far from any work you'll get, but it'd be a roof over your head. I wouldn't mind."

The diva smiled warmly at her, and she couldn't fight off the growing swarm of butterflies in her gut if she tried. Santana knew that the woman wouldn't take her up on her offer, but it certainly wasn't an idea that she was opposed to. The idea of living with Berry again was kind of wonderful, if she were to be honest. "I'll consider it. What plans do you have for your return to the city?" Rachel asked, looking entirely interested, which was a bit weird, because anyone with a clue would have known she didn't have much going on.

"Well…I'm pretty predictable. I'll go to sleep, wake up, have breakfast…watch Muppet Family Christmas and The Muppets' Christmas Carol, and…hrm…maybe get dressed and go to Central Park for a walk if I'm feeling it. If not, I'll just stay home and relax or whatever." She noted, struggling to find anything remotely interesting in her plans, clearly failing if Rachel's laughter was any indication.

"Santana, I meant for, you know, the weeks ahead…you know with your jobs, your music, your personal life and everything?" Rachel clarified, and she couldn't help but gulp back her nerves know that no answer would satisfy the woman across from her. She'd been in that exact position in the past, and Rachel and Kurt had lambasted her with criticism over her ambition and her decision-making about chasing her dreams.

She gave a shrug that Berry just rolled her eyes over. Deciding to feed the interrogator across from her before she found herself on some torture rack, she continued. "Hey, look, I don't usually plan that far ahead, unless I'm booking time at bars or whatever. I don't have a lot to really commit to."

Rachel tapped at her chin thoughtfully, her gaze momentarily fixated on some ceiling tile far off behind Santana, before the woman's eyes turned down to meet hers. "Maybe, since we both have open schedules, I could help you work on your next album? It would fill both of our schedules a little, give us both something to look forward to and plan, and it'd probably be fun." The diva noted with barely restrained excitement, clearly very set on helping.

She let out a sigh, knowing that even if she had hated the idea, she'd never, ever get out of it if she wanted to. Not with Rachel looking at her the way she was, so she felt a little fortunate that it didn't sound bad at all. "It'll probably end in homicide if you criticize me or my methods too much. The cops don't really patrol in my area, and the neighbourhood doesn't tend to talk so…fair warning." She replied, unable to keep hold of her smirk as Rachel started to pale. "Can you promise you won't try and railroad me?"

"The way you've done your album isn't the way I would have done one for my own work, perhaps, but I'm just more interested in learning about the process of making one, of seeing you in your element. As it is your creative work, I would only provide perspective or constructive criticism, and would try to remain as unbiased as possible. Though I can't promise I won't give tips on breath control through songs…it sort of just happens." Rachel rambled enthusiastically, looking entirely hopeful that she'd agree to the idea. Again, it wasn't as if Santana was utterly opposed to the idea, because Rachel knew music theory much better than she did. And it was kind of endearing to think that the woman would want to take part in all of that work.

"I'm not saying no…but I'm not saying yes just yet. It could be fun to have another person to bounce ideas off of, though." Santana's answer seemed to please Rachel, who erupted into excited clapping and her trademark brilliant smile. Of course the girl didn't see any of the confused looks or the annoyed glares from people around them, and Santana was happy about that; she didn't want Berry's mood to be ruined, and she didn't want to be kicked out of YYZ for assaulting anyone.

Once Rachel calmed down enough to drink her wine and speak again, it was nearly a minute later, and Santana had quickly finished off her meal. "So…what studio do you think you'll record at this time around? I'm sure I have friends from NYADA who could help you get into some of the studios in the city."

Santana froze at the question, forgetting that despite her friend's knowledge of music theory, she hadn't really been a part of the music industry yet. "I have some equipment at home that I use in my bedroom or living room…sometimes the bathroom depending on what I'm trying for. I just make do with what I've got." She answered with a shrug to a gobsmacked Rachel Berry, who was gaping at her in return, the gears in her head clearly still spinning. The woman seemed so stupefied that she didn't notice her phone beeping in the bag slung on the edge of the chair she was sitting on

"Wait…wait...you recorded your music in your home? But…wouldn't there be a lot of ambient noise? Residential rooms aren't usually adequate environments for good acoustics." Rachel sputtered out, looking and sounding entirely like Santana had spouted gibberish, and it was her job to decipher it.

"All true, which is why I usually need a lot of takes, and I have to take precautions to reduce as much white noise as possible. Cleaning all that up is hell, really, so I try to avoid it. I don't have the money for studio time, and if I did, I'd spend it on better equipment instead, or whatever. " She clarified, drawing a hesitant nod from her friend, though she could tell that Rachel was still skeptical. "Besides, my recordings would be demos I'd pitch to labels, right? And if they bite, I get studio time to re-record the material and do clean versions of it all. And if I got THAT, I'd definitely bring you in to supervise and see how things go."

That seemed to appease the woman, who was back to her excited, nearly-hyperventilating-with-enthusiasm self. "That would be wonderful, Santana! I'm sure your next album will be picked up, I feel it in my bones. I… I just had no idea that people could record at home so effectively…I could hardly tell yours had been, though it was admittedly a bit grainy in spots." And just like that, Rachel had flipped into her critic persona, and she needed to defuse that, and let the diva know that there were limitations to critique.

"The sound was purposefully a little low-fi, it helped with the tone of the album and gave the songs a bit of a consistent layer that I thought helped give more focus to the melodies and vocals. And seeing as I couldn't do crystal clear production, it was the right call…remember that Bob Dylan never had the best voice, but his songwriting spoke for itself. I'm not writing a lot of radio pop, so 'imperfections' in production can be good, depending." She explained, drawing an eager and accepting response from the diva.

"I'm well versed in the history of western pop music and the traditions of its music industry, Santana. Or, well, I'm at least acquainted with the material." Rachel noted cheerfully, finishing off her glass of wine ad ignoring yet another beep of her phone. Santana decided not to mention that, as there had to be a decent reason to ignore something like that.

"Good to know, I was just making sure you wouldn't expect things out my production that didn't fit. And…well…thanks for being confident and all, but I'd rather not jinx anything. I've been trying for years to get noticed." Santana noted shyly, memories of all the days and night spent waiting for a phone call of email returning to her.

Rachel reached a hand across the table, which Santana took without much thought, as she was pretty sure it'd both feel nice and appease the diva. "Santana, if you put some of the material you've hidden away on an album, ones that really channel your passion, I'm certain people will take notice. People HAVE taken notice today, and if anything, the audience grew during your original work." Rachel stated confidently, and while Santana hadn't really paid that much attention, she couldn't really put much stock into the diva's words. At least, not about the audience, because she'd never really had interested audiences. There would generally be one or two people who would get into her material, but most others would look on and just sit there without reacting. Santana found it hard to believe more people came around to listen then, and found it more likely that the growth happened when they'd shifted back to carols. "Oh, and have you considered adding band-mates to your performances? You said that you've been venturing into rock, and usually that means people playing numerous instruments, and you only have so many limbs."

Santana laughed at the thought of playing five instruments on her own. She'd more or less committed to the thought of using some drum machines and perhaps her computer to layer in the soundstage. Expanding into a band hadn't really crossed her mind. "Well, I…um, well, it'd be worth it maybe if I could find anyone worthwhile, and if I had enough music that needed the help, you know? I mean, I could go solo if I needed to."

"Why don't I put out some feelers at NYADA? I'm sure you'd have your pick of ambitious creative musicians." Rachel noted thoughtfully, and it was a potentially good idea. The school was full of competent people, so long as they weren't pretentious nightmares. Juilliard was another option, likely; not that she'd go there first and risk Rachel berating her about alumni loyalty.

"Well, you don't have to do that for me, but if you do, I wouldn't be opposed. Thanks…it could help me out." Santana added with an encouraging smile, deciding that Rachel had certainly been trying to be really helpful and supportive, and that was worthy of thanks.

"It's no problem, Santana, that's what friends are for." Rachel stated with another megawatt smile, waving for the waitress to come by and hand them their bills, what with departure quickly approaching. Rachel's phone beeped again for a third time when Rachel was busy tipping the waitress, and Santana took the hint that it couldn't have been a big deal. Santana knew that she'd only been so focused on it because she rarely ever was called, and she'd always wanted to hear back from labels about her demos she'd drop off with reps or receptionists. "Hey Santana, may I ask a quick question?"

She looked over at the diva curiously, not knowing why Rachel even asked. Santana figured that it was well established that Rachel could never keep her curiosity in check, and thus would ask questions that Santana could choose to answer. The questions themselves were just expected. "Yeah, sure. Shoot, or whatever."

"How long have you been writing music? I'm just curious because if I'm going to help you put together an album, I'm going to need an initial scope on how many years of unreleased material you have laying around." Rachel asked, though Santana couldn't help but think that the question was a bit oddly worded. Then again, Berry had just downed two glasses of wine, and that generally meant the diva's grammar would take a pretty serious hit.

"I mean, I started about a week after you convinced me to start. I didn't write much for the first month or two…maybe three songs? Since then I've done more…I might have close to eighty songs sitting around. Most of them are done, but a few are unfinished. I guess you're going to put together a big spreadsheet or something, aren't you?" Santana shot back with a sly grin, putting Rachel on her heels a little for some reason. But again, a buzzed Berry was a largely unpredictable, fidgety person, so she just figured it was the booze controlling her like a marionette. It was a bit of a weird end to their last get-together for the night, but all in all, she'd had a great time.

As the both of them walked off toward the customs checkpoint again, she couldn't help but hope that their friendship endured. That Rachel wouldn't forget her, because even if she never had anything more from the woman, her friendship would be more than welcome; their brief time together had been like someone breathing life back into her, and Santana really didn't want that feeling to end. And for once, she didn't know if she had the heart or will to run anymore.

Rachel was incredibly thankful for many things that had occurred across the past forty or so hours, but the fact that the gentleman who'd reserved the seat beside Santana didn't show was a big one. Ever since the alert came up on her phone about the new departure time, she'd been trying her best to work up the confidence to do what she'd been planning out since that morning after breakfast. Only recently had she needed to shut her phone off in order to finalize preparation, the incessant buzzing a clear distraction placed between herself and her goal.

The knowledge she'd gained across the day had been absolutely pivotal in the evolution of her plan. It had been one thing to use the performance of unreleased material to get herself an in with the production of the woman's next album, which was something Rachel was genuinely excited for. It was an entirely different, colossally important thing to hear that Santana had finished some of her own material during the final four months of her stay in Bushwick; meaning, of course, that the song Grace had Santana sing had been done in that apartment. Rachel hadn't been one for wishful thinking for a long time, but she content of the song had really made her believe that perhaps it had been about her. That Santana had been singing about her. That what they were growing felt right.

In retrospect, it made sense. They'd both grown together over their time living with each other, to the point where they'd both seek each other out in nearly every situation. Hearing that Santana had actually meant to cuddle with her during Funny Girl had warmed her heart, initially, but it quickly had her wondering what other things the woman could have done secretly to get more of Rachel's attention or affection. It wasn't too difficult to deduce that perhaps the reason why Santana was always heading into the shower when Rachel got home was an excuse for the woman to show off her glistening body, often opting for night clothes that exposed a rather large amount of skin, no matter the season or weather. The voluntary foot and leg massages after her dance classes with Cassie July were a hazy memory, but if she recalled correctly, Santana had been rather willing most times. Or how sometimes when Santana came home drunk, she'd slip into Rachel's bed, which she'd chalked up as drunken confusion; even despite the fact that she'd end up latched onto Santana, not the other way around, it seemed as if it could have been purposeful instead of a case of mistaken rooms.

And in the end, Rachel had balked at the feelings she'd had for Santana and had made the decision for the lease to not be renewed, leaving everyone to go their separate ways so that she didn't have to confront them. It wouldn't be a crazy stretch of the imagination for Santana to run from her as well, especially after she started the process by ending their time in Bushwick. Besides, she'd already freely admitted to doing it, albeit for different reasons.

Sure, Rachel knew there was still a chance of failure, especially in her method of delivery, because she was kind of a little drunk, fairly nervous, and more than a little desperate to keep connected to the other woman.

So when the seatbelt light shut off, Rachel immediately left her seat and sought out the one beside a bored-looking Santana. She moved so quickly that Santana barely had any time to react before she plopped down beside her, raised the armrest, and leaned up against the woman. Sure, she knew she was a bit clingy at the moment, she always was when she was tipsy or drunk; she just hoped that her forwardness wouldn't cost her in the end. At the very least, Rachel knew that she'd at least get a bit of snuggle time with Santana, which wasn't the worst consolation prize.

To her utmost delight, Santana angled toward her slightly and pulled Rachel closely against her, the woman's arm around her waist. It was a really nice feeling. She couldn't help but wonder why she had been so scared of just going after who and what she wanted, if it was so nice and happy and cozy. "I really, really missed you." Rachel mumbled cheerfully, pleased to hear that her words weren't slurring, and that her joy over their current position was quite audible. It was important for Santana to know that she liked things. Especially when many of those things she liked were things Santana was, had and did. Rachel remembered Santana regaling her on the importance of being 'straight up', which, now that she thought of it, was a Paula Abdul song. Which, of course, had her remembering that Santana had chased Brody off with a Paula Abdul song, which in turn sent Rachel into a giggle fit.

Santana laughed, though Rachel wasn't sure if it was her laughing with her over something she'd said, or at her over her giggles. She didn't mean to giggle, it just happened. Surely Santana could understand that. "Oh yes, the ten minutes we were apart were terribly dreadful. You're such a goof, Berry." Santana noted with what Rachel decided was a moderate amount of amusement. Her eyes are kind of sparkly, her voice that that familiar lilt to it, and there's a hint of a smirk on her lips. Definitely moderate amusement. She mused to herself, proud of her ability to read people. Rachel remembered Mercedes and Kurt telling her that she was really imperceptive, but that couldn't be true, because Santana was moderately amused and she'd guessed right.

And seriously, for once, Santana guessed wrong. Rachel wondered if it was a special occasion, and decided to just run with that tentative explanation instead of thinking any further, because her favourite woman needed to understand, and she needed Rachel Barbra Berry's help, obviously. "No, I missed you." She clarified with a shake of her head, which she hoped would help. Words were kind of hard at the moment, and it was like a 'Where's Waldo?' game every time she tried to think up better things to say. Rachel hated those books as a child.

Santana was really suspiciously quiet for a few seconds, but Rachel was pretty sure that the woman had heard her, considering her friend had almost stopped rubbing those sweet little circles into her back, and she was pretty sure she heard someone's breathing hitch. Rachel was kind of sure it wasn't her own. And she really wanted Santana to talk, but the woman wasn't, so she decided to just continue, now that her courage had sparked her thinking abilities for a few seconds. "I didn't even know what I was missing. I tried really, really hard to make it on Broadway but I've felt so… empty."

"Empty?" Santana asked, repeating her choice of words, one that she hadn't been super confident fit what she meant to say at the time. It was hard to talk sometimes with Santana staring at her so intensely. "Like…lonely?"

Again, she shook her head against the woman's shoulder, but she supposed Santana was getting closer to her meaning, which was good. It's just that she knew Santana hated the 'hot and cold' way of telling someone if they were close, and she didn't know how else to really explain. "No, it's different. Been with men and women since we all split, and I've been lonely, but not the whole time. I missed you."

"Oh." Santana barely spoke the word, the sound coming out as more of a breath than anything, but she was close, and she heard it. And she felt Santana's forehead lean against the top of her own, which was nice. It was also nice that Santana wasn't teasing her for being so tipsy, because that used to happen all the time. However, 'tis the season, so maybe she's just being nicer for Christmas and everything…maybe she's been on the nice list this year…

Deciding that she just needed to be blatant, because Santana wasn't saying anything again, Rachel put effort into finding some clear strings of words. Which was hard, what with Santana touching her and everything. It was distracting. "I'm really happy I met you again in the airport. I missed you…I want you to be with me. Together." She added, hoping it would clarify everything, because she knew Santana hated people beating around the bush.

The nervous, strained laugh Santana let out quickly had Rachel frowning. She'd expected the woman to do something better, even a thumbs up or a high five would have been better than that, she figured. "You're still a total lightweight, Rach." Santana mumbled, clearly affected by her forward conversational admission, though Rachel wasn't certain how Santana was feeling. She knew Santana was at least comfy with her there in her arms, though, so that was a plus. It meant something, which Rachel hoped meant that Santana wanted her back. She just knew her friend was really bad at expressing herself, so the diva would try and be patient. It was just really, really hard sometimes.

"I'd say it sober too…I know you're probably freaking out, but you don't have to be. It's just me." Rachel spoke sweetly into Santana's neck, which was a bit softer than she remembered. It was a nice change.

"You know how I am, Rachel. You know me." Santana noted with possibly the least amount of commitment that the tired woman could muster. It certainly wasn't a defense like any the high-school Santana Lopez would have tossed up. And for once, she was kind of thankful that her friend wasn't so fierce at the moment.

"Well, you might feel like you need to run, but you don't need to do it alone. People run together all the time, San." Rachel shot back, though she knew her point would likely go over her friend's head, considering the context she was using was more in reference to people going running in a park together, or at the gym. Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to say…

Santana lifted her head away from Rachel's until they were a few inches apart again. "Running away is kind of a solo act…I'd know, I mastered it." The woman said with a fair bit of self-deprecation. And it truly was fair, because it wasn't a positive quality, but the fact that Santana hadn't fully shut down and run off was evidence enough that Santana might think similarly.

Now, Rachel was a patient person under normal circumstances, maybe. But with her basically asking Santana out, only to get a run-around? She was willing to pull out the big, slightly unfair weaponry. "You weren't born to run away from everything good, San, because you're not running from me right now. The fact that you stuck around these past two days and entertained a lot of people is proof that you haven't totally fucked up. And the highway doesn't always have to win. Not if you choose my off-ramp when you're feeling trapped." Rachel rambled, feeling a sense of clarity come over her; of course, with that clarity came the realization that Santana was growing tenser as she spoke, which wasn't likely a positive thing.

"You read it." Santana whispered, her words so full of emotion, and sometimes she really had a hard time differentiating shame and relief. Rachel really hoped it wasn't shame.

She separated herself further from the woman, enough to really get a good, solid look into Santana's dark, watery, hurt eyes. Rachel knew then that she'd crossed a boundary that she shouldn't have, but she saw the opportunity to fix it immediately as she cupped her friend's face. "San, you could have someone who'd care if you came home at night again. I always did, and I would again. And I'm kind of hoping you'll stay."

Her words received all of Santana's attention, the woman's gaze intense against her own. "Why?" Her friend choked out, and while she was tiring of Santana's constant questions and monosyllabic answers, she actually did feel like answering.

"I want to be the one you run to when things get too crazy or too much to handle, San." She spoke softly, slowly closing the distance between them again, feeling Santana's heart-rate spike as their chests lightly touched. "I want to be the one you escape to when you're feeling insecure. I want you to be the one who I can run to when I'm feeling like a failure, or in need of affection. We were building that before…and it felt right back then. I…I know what you meant when you wrote the last lines of your song, and I really, really wished that I'd had been brave enough to say them back then. But I am now…I'm kind of hoping you'd stay, San."

She leaned in ever closer as tears streaked down Santana's cheeks, the woman's delicious lower lip trembling all the while. Rachel decided to amend both, taking a moment to wipe the tears from those pretty, full cheeks before she leaned forward and took Santana's lips with her own.

Rachel wasn't sure of much at that moment other than how soft and incredible Santana's lips were, but by how quickly the woman reciprocated her kiss, she was pretty sure she'd finally made Santana Lopez choose 'fight' instead of 'flight'. Before running into each other, Rachel was aware that the vast majority of her efforts were spent fighting for a place in her career, and it was fairly clear that Santana had been operating similarly. It had been astonishing to feel that surge of passion again for what she loved, and she saw Santana change too, she saw the joy in her friend's eyes then. Together, Rachel had a feeling that would endure.

Santana was surprisingly restrained as they kissed, even with the light groping of her backside, which only further confirmed that Rachel knew for certain she'd fight as well for their chance. It wasn't often that she got to fight to keep someone she loved, after all. The only flight she'd allow was their current one to JFK, where they'd take a taxi to her place and start Christmas festivities. Together.

'Together' was a nice word, and an even nicer idea. It wasn't Broadway, or a big recording contract, but it wasn't worse, just different. And like any dream, she reached out for it, and felt herself well with emotion as she realized she was on her way to making it come true. And that, for a drama queen like herself, was definitely a magical happy ending worthy of a large chunk of her future memoir.

Though with Santana nibbling on her lower lip like she was, it was sort of difficult to think too much about the future. It could wait an hour and a half; right then, she had more pressing concerns and over six years to make up for.

A/N: And that's it! Another one down :) I hope you all enjoyed the ride, it was a lot of fun to write this story, even if it was a bit of a downer in spots.

I want to thank all of you readers for your wonderful support, and for giving this story a shot. I hope I've provided you with even a fraction of how much I enjoyed this project. May all of your Septembers get off to an incredible start!

Thanks again!

Songs were:
-"Waiting for the Sun to Rise" by Lightning Dust
-And I alluded to "Lost Coastlines" by Okkervil River