Love and Dreams-Faberry

Chapter One

Rachel Berry had always had a sixth sense. It had been both a blessing and a curse for as long as she could remember. It was her sixth sense at work the day she moved into her new apartment in New York.
She'd gone to Julliard after high school as planned. She'd starred in off-Broadway productions until she finally landed her first Broadway show. Eight shows a week finally afforded her a beautiful place to live but the day she moved in she felt that sixth sense twisting at something inside her.

Part of her wondered if it was the building. She briefly entertained the thought of spirits reaching out to her, but then she got freaked out and decided that wasn't it at all.

She knew her sense had been dead on when she shook her new neighbor's hand for the first time. She was standing outside her front door as several movers with handcarts towed all of her belongings inside. The sound of a door closing to her left caused her to look up and found a man locking his door, his eyes fixed on her.

"New in the building?" he asked with what Rachel was sure he thought a charming grin. It made her stomach turn.

What gave it away? The movers? The stacks of boxes being moved in? Rachel smiled and shook his hand. "Hi. I'm Rachel Berry."

"Richard Barstow," he replied.

"It's nice to meet you," she told him politely. She had to fight the urge to wipe her hand on her jeans.

"I live right next door so if you need anything come see me," he replied with another creepy smile.

"Thanks," she replied.

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I hate to cut this short, but I'm a doctor and I have surgery in a few hours. It was nice to meet you."

"You too."

She did her best to smile though something deep down was telling her that he was not a good guy.

XX

"Well holy shit," came the greeting as she pulled her front door open later that night.

None other than Santana Lopez was standing on the other side of the door holding a bottle of wine.

"Santana?" Rachel asked, her eyes wide and heart thumping in her chest. "Not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?"

"My husband told me that Rachel Berry moved in next door and I almost dropped the phone," she replied with a grin.

Rachel couldn't help the grin at seeing her old high school...friend? Her eyes went wide as the other woman's words registered. "It was your husband I met earlier?"

"The one and only," Santana replied, internally wincing as her voice carried an inflection that shouldn't have been there.

Rachel nodded. It made her feel slightly ill to know the neighbor she'd met earlier was married to someone she knew. She suddenly remembered her manners and stood aside, holding the door open wider. "Come in, please."

Santana smiled and stepped inside, handing the wine to Rachel. "Welcome to the building." She hesitated a moment and pulled Rachel into a hug.

"Thank you," Rachel said with a smile. She led Santana through the apartment and back to the kitchen where she set the wine in the wine chiller next to the fridge. "Can I get you anything?"

"Sure," Santana agreed easily. "Whatever you have is fine."

"I'd show you around but I'm sure the layout next door is the same as it is here." Rachel pulled the large stainless steel refrigerator door open and pulled out two beers, sliding one across the granite countertop to the other woman who had taken a seat in one of the barstools at the counter.

"Is it weird that I'm not at all weirded out that you live next door to me?" Santana questioned as she took a sip of her beer.

"No weirder than the fact that you're sitting in my kitchen drinking a beer and it seems totally natural," Rachel replied.

"So how have you been?" the Latina asked. She gestured around them. "Obviously you've done well for yourself on Broadway. Chicago, right?"

"How do you know I'm on Broadway?" Rachel questioned with a flattered smile.

"Everyone from home knows," Santana shrugged. "Quinn was the one who actually told me."

It only took the mere mention of the blonde's name for all the air to be sucked from Rachel's lungs. She felt her heart hammering noisily in her chest and hoped she was the only one who could hear it. "Oh."

Santana smirked. "She's seen your show three times."

Rachel blinked. Quinn had been to her show? Multiple times? "She lives here?"

Santana nodded once, her eyes were focused on the bottle before her, peeling the label off slowly. "Yep. Kurt too."

Rachel regarded her carefully for a moment. "Brittany lives here too, doesn't she?"

Santana's head snapped up, her mouth open to retort something that was most likely cruel but she snapped it shut and nodded her head once.

"Have you talked to her?" Rachel asked hesitantly.

Santana shook her head. "No. Not since..."

Rachel remembered the day clearly. Like it was yesterday. Brittany and Santana remained close all through high school. They had a relationship all those years but Santana refused to acknowledge that it was anything but sex. Brittany began telling everyone they were dating senior year and Santana flipped. She told Brittany to leave her alone and they hadn't spoken since. To make matters worse, Brittany had torn her ACL in a bad fall off the stage at Regionals senior year and was told she'd never dance again. It was a dark cloud that settled over all of them that year, but the blonde had been particularly depressed their senior year.

"So what have you been up to?" Rachel asked as she slipped up onto a counter top.

"I graduated from Columbia law school last year and I've been working downtown pretty much since the day I graduated," Santana told her with a tiny proud smile.

Rachel's eyes got wide. "Wow. That's fantastic. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Santana replied.

"And you're married?" Rachel asked.

Santana's eyes flashed for the slightest second and she masked it with a wide smile that never quite reached her eyes. "We've been married for 3 years."

"It sounds like you have a really amazing life," Rachel told her.

"What about you?" Santana questioned. "Any hot male leads for you on Broadway?"

Rachel shook her head, an embarrassed laugh falling from her lips. "No. I can't keep a plant alive, let alone a relationship."

"I know the feeling," Santana agreed. "16 hour days are not kind to relationships."

"You should come to the show sometime," Rachel suggested. "I'll get you tickets if you want."

Santana smiled. "That would be great. I'd love to see it."

Rachel nodded. She dropped her eyes to the beer bottle in her lap as she traced the patterns on the label with her thumbs. "So do you talk to Quinn and Kurt?"

Santana had to smile and she nodded. "Kurt has his own line that he's debuting this year at fashion week. He has a little store not too far from here. And Quinn is a chef."

"A chef?" Rachel asked.

Santana laughed. "I know. She burnt toast in high school and cooks for a living."

"Is she doing well?"

"She's thinking about opening her own restaurant," Santana told her. "She's head chef at that place downtown, Curve."

Rachel's eyes lit up. "I've wanted to try that place for months. They say it's amazing."

"It is," Santana confirmed. "Maybe we can have dinner next week."

"Absolutely," Rachel agreed with a grin. She loved the idea of having someone in the city that she could get together with. She hadn't had any sort of emotional connection with anyone since she moved.