The Overture: Track 1A
by Creedog VanDrey

Category: Glee
Genre: Family
Rating: T
Language: English
Summary: They remembered the night it happened. Music was playing and they were in love.

A/N: This is something I've been working on for a while. It started as a Santana character study. Then it morphed into a Brittany character study, too. Then I realized that the whole thing was a mess based on a nugget of a good idea, so I started from scratch with just that nugget. Then I realized the scope of what I was writing was too large for one sitting, so I broke it into five. Those five were also too large, so I split the entire project into Side A and Side B. And frankly, if I survive through Side B, there's gonna be a Side C, which kind of defeats the whole metaphor, but it is what it is.


Track 1, Side A: The Composition
or "It's Like Magic"

Christopher and Carole remembered the night it happened.

The couple was enjoying a rare night together. Christopher was on leave from the Army and though most of his compatriots spent their time wooing their ladies (or women they'd like to make their ladies) with fancy meals and a night on the town, Christopher and Carole were more than content to watch television at home.

They watched The Simpsons, a guilty pleasure of theirs, then the news, switching the channel when news of the Iraqi disarmament came on, but watched the weather intently, especially news of the growing tropical storm off the coast of Africa, which was making its way toward the Caribbean.

Finding the news too depressing, they wandered down to the basement. They started of a game of Life, but gave up after ten minutes, joined forces by putting their blue and pink figurines in the green car that they both liked, and loaded up with more children (which they named, all beginning with the letter C) and "borrowed" a lot of money (which they discussed buying various things with, like a drum set and classy patio furniture).

As "November Rain" played on the radio, they played a game of pinball on the machine that was a wedding gift from Christopher's father. Carole was not very good at it, so Christopher was only too happy to wrap his arms around her and get her score over a million points. What happened next couldn't wait for them to move up to the bedroom, but it did offer the opportunity for Christopher to make a very lame "scoring" pun, but Carole loved bad puns, so they cuddled on the basement couch afterwards, waking up at four in the morning and moving back to bed.

: : :

Leroy and Hiram remembered the night it happened. It was written in pen on the calendar, inconspicuously as "Doctor's appointment – 5:30 PM."

Leroy was an assistant professor of choral music at Ohio State University and put an ad in the school newspaper. One Shelby Corcoran replied. Leroy hadn't met her, but from his colleagues heard good things about her, all of which turned out to be true. She was beautiful and had a voice that brought Leroy and Hiram to tears. She had dreams of the bright lights of Broadway, but no way to get there.

That's how Shelby found herself waiting in the sterile doctor's office, wearing nothing but a hospital gown, embarrassed despite knowing the two men with her had no interest in anything she had to show. It was a blur as the doctor came in, put her legs in a thoroughly uncomfortable pose, and inserted a thoroughly long medical device in a thoroughly private area of her body with a thoroughly clinical demeanor.

Leroy and Hiram tried to make her more comfortable by singing "The Music of the Night", which surprisingly did help.

: : :

Russel and Judy remember the night it happened.

It was a Sunday evening, and Judy had prepared a lovely Sunday dinner of ham, rolls, and four different kinds of vegetables, the latter course which did not endear their 7-year-old daughter Kirsten to the meal. Russel, as always, finished off his meal with a glass of brandy. Judy did not.

Russel was in a good mood. The family had attended church that day. He'd worn in his favorite cream-colored sports jacket, freshly dry-cleaned and starched. The sermon was fantastic: passionate, full of hellfire and knowing thy neighbor and doing to the least of these. It was followed by a church luncheon and an afternoon at the soup kitchen. Russel loved it when the Sabbath was filled with God's work. While Judy was washing the dishes, he put on The Pretenders album and tapped his foot to "My City Was Gone."

Judy was also in a good mood. Her summer garden was in full bloom. Kirsten was actually excited to be starting school the next month. And, most importantly, Russel was in a good mood. In fact, as she finished brushing her teeth in preparation for bed, he sidled up behind her and slid his arms around her midsection. Perfectly coy, she giggled, "Russel, it's Sunday."

"I don't care. I have the most perfect wife in the world." He scooped her up and set her in bed.

Apprehensively, Judy asked, "Russel, do you maybe want to try something a little different tonight?" Russel furrowed his brow. Judy quickly reached her hand around her husband's neck and whispered in his ear. "Forget I said anyway."

Russel lay on top of her, kissing her deeply. Judy pulled back again. "Sweetie, tell me you love me."

"I love you," he stated passively, kissing her again.

"Russel," she pressed, pulling away. "You still find me attractive, don't you?"

Russel pulled back. After a calming breath, he looked deeply into his wife's eyes and with intense sincerity, he stated, "Judy, darling, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. You are the mother of my daughter and all my future children. You are a godly woman. And you are my wife. You have no equal in my eyes."

That was more than good enough for Judy, so she pulled her husband back on top of her.

: : :

Gabe and Abigail remember the night it happened. Sort of.

It was just after two o'clock in the morning when Gabe finally stumbled in the door. Like every Friday night, he'd gone out drinking with his buddies from work, leaving his fiancée wondering if he'd turn up before dawn.

He found his wife-to-be sitting at the kitchen table, a mostly empty bottle of wine in front of her. The moment he came into view, she charged him, but with both of them drunk, he had the advantage. "There's perfume on your clothes, you bastard! I can smell it."

"Believe it or not, Foxy Lady, women do frequent bars."

It didn't occur to Abigail to question how the perfume got close enough transfer onto Gabe, so she backed down. "I worry about you," she muttered.

"Hey, you don't need to do that. I'm a big boy. C'mon," he said, swooping low and tossing Abigail over his shoulder, "Rick is throwing this killer party at his place."

Twenty minutes later, Abigail found herself in her underwear in a neighbor's hot tub, dry-humping her fiancé while "Walk This Way" began playing. It wasn't exactly a romantic song, but Abigail loved Aerosmith. Gabe began to sing in her ear and it was all Abigail needed to hear.

: : :

Jack and Hazel remember the night it happened.

It was a cold winter night in Cincinnati. The couple had attended a work party that night where Hazel drank a little too much. Insurance adjusters were apparently too dull for her liking. Jack had also drunk a lot, but he hid it better than his wife. Being an insurance agent was fairly dull, too.

Jack retreated to his study the moment he walked in the door, just like every night in their eight years of marriage. He'd listen to music and stare at the college diploma on his wall. Hazel usually just let him go.

Hazel joined him in the study that night. He was humming along to the music.

"Darling?" he greeted her.

Hazel loved it when he called her "darling." She loved it when he hummed to music. She loved how he loosened his bow-tie, but left it hanging on his neck. She loved the half-vacant, half-smoldering stare he gave her after he'd been drinking. She loved how on-edge he would get when she invaded his sanctuary. Usually, Jack was nothing if not a predictable man. Except when she caught him under the right circumstances.

"I like this song," she commented.

"I love this song."

While Tony Bennett sang about how "The Best is Yet to Come," Jack and Hazel danced while singing along, mixing up the verses.

The rest of the night was kind of a haze, but the rest of the week was one of the best of their marriage.

: : :

Daniel and Rosalina remembered the night it happened.

The young couple was living in Miami, Florida, at the time. The streets were alive that night. To be fair, the streets of Miami were always buzzing. But it was special that night. Carlos Santana was in town on tour, and they had gone to the show, after a healthy meal of authentic Cuban food and tequila. It was like there was something in the air, some sort of electricity. That electricity was actually the barometric pressure dropping rapidly due to an oncoming storm caused by the rapidly approaching Hurricane Andrew.

Daniel and Rosa had fought that night. It wasn't over anything big. Sometime it's just the way they talked, being the fiery Latinos they prided themselves to be. They argued over whether "Oye Como Va" was better than "Evil Ways." They argued about whether their next big investment was a washing machine or a couch. They argued about the true nature of purgatory. They argued whether rice or potatoes went better with empanadas.

They made love that night, passionately if not violently, while Santana's "Black Magic Woman" played in the background, over the sound of the thunderstorm neither of them heard.

: : :

Peter and Margo remembered the night it happened.

The couple was living in Lima, Ohio, with Gusta, Margo's mother, who they'd brought over from the Netherlands and only spoke Dutch.

It was not a particularly special night. It was spring, and spring was Margo's favorite time of the year, and she just loved spring in Lima.

It was their four-month anniversary. It wasn't a big date, but the found no reason not to spend the date with an inexpensive dinner at a quaint, open-air restaurant and watching a sunset at the park.

They made love that night, sweetly and serenely, while Mozart's "Eine kleine Nachtmusik" played in the background.


A/N: Somehow the idea of Santana being conceived in the middle of Hurricane Andrew just makes her make sense to me.