Day 8: Character A's ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A's fiance.


"Please."

"You can't be serious."

"You know I don't throw around the P Word easily. I am very serious."

"This is utterly absurd. You're forgetting that she knows me. We're friends on facebook. She'd know we were lying. Everyone we know would know we were lying."

"You're an up and comer actress, keeping your romantic relationships under cover. And Jesus, everyone would be too busy thinking we were too hot together to pay much attention to specifics."

"How about the fact I'm not gay and she's only ever seen me date men?"

"Didn't say you were, Bi Berry. Get your head out of your heteronormative view of life. And it's not like she's a stranger to dating men."

"I have two dads, Santana."

"And I have an ex who's going to be at the party I can't not show up for if I want to keep my cred. Look, what do you want from me? A week of not making fun of your clothes or who you date? Even if they make you look like a reject from a reimagining of Mary Poppins with puppets and you bring home another colorless Abercrombie and Fitch model with powder under his nose and the personality of Nicolas Cage, I'll keep my lips shut. Scout's honor."

"You're not amusing, you know."

"Sure I am. You're the one without a sense of humor."

"If you think you're helping your cause, you're not."

"Fine. Berry. Rachel. If you won't just do this out of the good of your heart and as an expression of gratitude for me being the awesomeness that is myself in your life, then I am saying that you are turning down the greatest practice an aspiring actress such as yourself can be offered. Not only do you have to be quick on your feet via improv, you're going to have to play someone head over heels in love with me. Now, sure, I know that isn't a hard thing to be, but I'm sure convincingly playing able to handle my reciprocation will work those acting muscles your acting coach is always going on and on about."

"That is terrible incentive."

"No. It's great incentive. You get an evening of free drink – at a party you're already attending, I'mma point out – my company, and the lady kisses from me I know you've been creaming in your granny panties for since high school."

"I have wanted no such thing. In fact, from the level of effort you're putting into recruiting me instead any of the revolving bevy of women you've traipsed in and out of here, it more speaks to you – "

"Of course, here we go. Kay. Hit me."

" – wanting an excuse to 'get your lady kisses on' with me. Really, Santana. Why can't you just be single and happy to see her? Is it you're afraid you'll get drunk and hook up with her again, recreating the disastrous time period that was two years ago?"

"Whoah. Hold up. I wouldn't needs to get drunk to hook up with her."

"Wow."

"I just don't want to. We're done. Over. I'm not in love with her anymore."

"Then why can't you just be an adult and, if not be able to converse politely with her, then spend the evening ignoring her?"

"And be pathetic? Don't be crazy, Berry. Santana Lopez isn't pathetic. Look… Real talk. I want someone to shove into her face that I'm happy – and stop right there. Yes I don't need a woman to be happy. But this is… You know how she is. If I don't bring someone with me, she'll think I'm still pining after her and give me those big eyes and sad, 'move on, Santana, I have,' crap."

"I hadn't realized how much of your ego was still wrapped up in her."

"Fucking hell, Berry. Psychoanalyze me later – or better yet, never – just come with me."

"One question, and I'll think about it."

"What?"

"Why do I have to be your fiancée?"

"Because it shows that we're not just a temporary relationship and that, despite anything she might think, I'm not going to put up with her treating me like she can walk in and out of my life anymore and make it very clear, ironclad, with you being with me means that no, Brittany, I don't care how sexy you are and how buzzed enough I am to listen to my horniness, I will not sneak out with you to eat you out on the balcony this year!"

"Oh god, that's where you were last year? You told me you went outside to smoke!"

"And I didn't smell like smoke when I came back, did I?"

"Oh. Oh god. I thought the extra perfume was for – and not – Santana!"

"Like you weren't in the corner macking on some guppy lips."

"There was mistletoe."

"For a full hour? I basically had to shove you guys out from under it so I could just happen to meet Quinn under it."

"Twenty five times."

"Look at you acting the jealous fiancée already. Keep it up."

"No, no. Santana. No. Aside from your comment about us being too… Attractive together making people not question us – and believe me we will come back to that rather Neanderthal-ish sexist reasoning – you know that's not going to stop at least someone asking about how quickly our engagement happened, seeing as we weren't together a year ago!"

"Oh god. Berry. How are you so… We live together. We have been roommates for years, and, in spite of the days we wanted to kill each other, we've learned how to deal with each other."

"For the most part."

"Yes."

"Even though you still insist to clutter the refrigerator up with your disgusting dead carcass foods."

"We wouldn't have a problem if you just bought your own damn refrigerator – "

"I bought the one we have!"

"…And you can buy another."

"No, I can't. Unlike you, I know how to save my money."

"Who's the one who had enough money to cover the expense from when you blew the whole building's electricity because you just had to have the biggest and brightest Christmas lights and tree and display – "

"I paid you back as soon as I could!"

"– even though no one but us ever saw it."

"I enjoy celebrating Christmas. Is that such a crime? And it's not like I didn't learn my lesson. Even before the letters and notices threatening me that started showing up after Thanksgiving, I had settled on the mute, elegant display you see now."

"I was blind for days after the lights exploded! That's not celebrating Christmas. That's annihilating it. You're lucky we weren't impaled by flying shards. You're also lucky for the miracle I can even see what I had to fight you over with to settle on. I don't get it. I like Christmas and presents as much as the next person, but aren't you Jewish?"

"You know very well I am."

"Way to avoid the question you knew I was intimating."

"Fine. I may be Jewish, yes, but I have, ever since I was a little girl, enjoyed the sense of wonder and family and love Christmas invokes. I will… Admit… Spurred on by my first Christmas spent fully away from my family and lingering ennui caused by what was happening in both my professional and personal life, I went overboard. There. I admitted it. You happy?"

"Very."

"Oh for – finish your sorry excuse for an explanation about us being believable wives-to-be."

"Because I am so nice, I will allow your poor excuse for changing the subject. Where was I?"

"…We know how to 'deal' with each other."

"Right. And we've been in each other's lives, one way or the other, since junior high – "

"We were in the same kindergarten class, Santana."

"We were?"

"Yes."

"No."

"I gave you a Barney Band-Aid once. After Puck tripped you during recess."

"What? Oh… Riiiiiight. I must've pushed the memory of you out of my head to make room for important things. Fine. We've been in each other's lives since kindergarten. We've had our ups and downs – hell, I only recently really started liking you. But that's what would make this work. We went from enemies to roommates to friends."

"I'm glad you acknowledged we weren't really friends when you moved in."

"I keep it real. Listen. I'm just saying, with the path our friendship has taken, is it really a stretch to go a step further and say that, once being privy to my fine ass day in, day out, away from McKinley High, you saw how irresistible I was and fell for me?"

"Why do I fall for you? Wouldn't it be more realistic to say that you, upon being… Privy to me, away from making yourself take on that ridiculous and abhorrent persona you had adopted in high school to deal with societal pressures – and still find yourself clinging to most days, I might add – found yourself developing romantic feelings for me?"

"Yeah, right. That's as realistic as the both of us developing feelings for each other at the same time."

"You're right. Forgive me for thinking you would ever be brave and strong of character enough to step up and woo me."

"You would be so blessed."

"Well, no matter what you say, or might think, you are still dependent on my agreeing, are you not? So I'm telling you right now: there is no way I'm going to even seriously entertain the idea about agreeing to this farce unless you agree to be the one to admit that it was you, Santana Lopez, who set out to woo me, Rachel Berry."

"Be honest and just admit all you want is the swelling of your ego having me chasing after you would cause."

"I'm just saying that a hypothetical Rachel would have found it very romantic of a hypothetical Santana."

"I thought both you and a hypothetical Rachel were modern women. Nothing would stop either of you from trying to seduce me if you came to the conclusion you wanted up on me."

"Right. And hypothetical Santana wouldn't have laughed in hypothetical Rachel's face."

"If hypo – no, fuck that. If you had come to me and said you were into me, yeah, I would have laughed, probably."

"See?"

"Let me finish; it makes good practice for talking about how we got together. Gotta play it smoothly."

"I told you, I'm not going to if you don't – only if you pursued me."

"Ignoring that: would you have blamed me for laughing? Tell me honestly. Aside from immediately asking if you were drunk, I'm pretty sure I'd figure all you wanted out of me for telling me that would be a curious, experimental roll in the sack."

"Would… you…?"

"Have sex with you to scratch a lesbian itch? Sure. Why not. At least once. It's not like I haven't seen what's under your hideous wardrobe. I'm sure I'd get some level of enjoyment out of it. At the very least, I'd be able to add another notch to my bedpost."

"I don't know if I'm sorry I asked or not."

"Oh don't lie. You've thought about it. I've seen you glance at my mouth, look at my ass, ogle me when I've just gotten out of the shower…"

"That's enough, Santana. You find me attractive enough to sleep with at least once, proving you could sell being attracted to me enough to want to marry me. That's what you're trying to get across, right? Well, don't worry. It's gotten across."

"You know, for being my future wife, you're pretty shy when it comes to our sex life. Are you worried what the others will ask you about it? If telling them 'none of your damn business' doesn't work, just say 'Auntie 'Tana's taking care of you'. That should shut most of them up. I fully support kicking Puck in the nuts if he – when he gets annoying."

"What is with your need to call yourself Auntie 'Tana? I don't remember anyone else ever shortening your name to that."

"For good reason."

"What?"

"I don't let them. Azimio's nose looked like it did because he tried it in fifth grade."

"Oh. Of course. I should have guessed."

"It's like you don't know me at all."

"Right. You know, I think I'm going to try it. Calling you 'Tana."

"Don't you dare."

"I feel like it's fair revenge for some of the names you've called me in the past. I'm also enjoying that anticipatory look on your face too much not to, too. In fact, I'm enjoying it so much this whole thing may be worth it after all."

"Berry... I'm warning you."

"...'Tana."

"Okay. That's how you want to play it. Tell me. What does the look on my face now say?"

"It says 'you-wouldn't-harm-the-friend-who's-agreeing-to-go-to-the-Annual-Glee-Christmas-Meet-Up-and-Party-with-the-plan-of-lying-to-all-of-her-friends-and-presenting-a-false-impression-of-how-her-life-is-going-just-because-her-friend-asked-her-to-pretend-to-be-her-fiancée.'"

"Oh for - ! That's low. Hiding behind agreeing to go with me."

"It's not low. It's practical. And ends non-violently."

"I don't buy it. Your sincerity. Nope. You're just saying you'll go with me to get away with calling me what you want."

"That may be true, but it's getting you a date, isn't it? I promise I'm being perfectly sincere. If you like, you can think of 'Tana as one of my pet names for you. Just for me."

"One of? Fine. But you better be ready for what I come up with, too. And I'm warning you. They won't be pretty."

"I'm sure I'll manage."

"You say that now. Okay, so tell me, as I'm assuming you're not going to back down from me wooing you, what are you going to do about our differing stories about how we got together?"

"I'll just say you like to tell it your way, but it really happened like this... It's not a very hard thing to do. They'll make up their own minds. And I am very persuasive, 'Tana."

"Ugh. …You're lucky I'm marrying you."

"You too. 'Tana."

"Live it up, sweet cheeks. That's only lasting tonight."

"If you say so. Now excuse me, but I have to get used to saying it. 'Tana. 'Tana! 'Tana?"

"...And suddenly I'm not very surprised to find I'm regretting everything. Great. Should have expected something like this from the beginning."

"You really should have, Santana. I'm surprised you're only realizing that now. And, no you're not! Because you love me. We're getting married! So, come on! Start getting in character! While we're getting ready we can go over everything about our relationship and engagement. What made me fall for you? Say yes to marrying you? Because of course you proposed to me. And how long have we officially been together? Oh, don't you roll your eyes at me! And put that frown away, too. I need to know it all to better get into my character. And so do you - - 'Tana."