Archive of Our Own ^beta

Present Day - December 18th

Santana wasn't entirely sure what to do about the situation she found herself in. Honestly, it had all caught her off guard, but she couldn't be blamed for feeling that way after a series of logical decisions ended in a number of illogical conclusions. Not that she was the pinnacle of logic, or whatever, but still, she understood how that stuff worked. Some wrote her off as a flighty cheerleader, but her schedule filled with AP classes was no joke. Anyway, the situation had escalated to an unforeseen level, and it had her head spinning. To think it had all started so innocently was only that much more baffling. The only thing she was sure of, was that her recliner was at the root of it all.

Early October

It was more or less a unanimous decision; their glee club had failed in New York due to a lack of preparation on Schue's behalf, so they'd taken it upon themselves to find a little time each week to get together and brainstorm, practice, whatever. She'd been on board because Santana Lopez was a winner, and she understood the cost of success well, what with all of her experience as a Cheerio.

However, how it all escalated from getting together at the Lima Bean, to hanging out by Lima's amphitheater, to the whole group deciding her home would be ground zero for their weekly meetings eluded Santana. Sure, she understood that weather would take a turn for the worse eventually and they'd need shelter, but her house? Santana could accept that it was large enough to fit everyone, but that the gleeks would willingly venture into her home was a little mind-boggling.

And so she found herself sitting in her recliner in her basement, furniture pushed to the sides of the room except for the sofas and the chairs from her father's board-game table, which were used to properly seat everyone. Well, almost everyone.

Rachel had been a little too busy agonizing over the state of whatever vegan snack she'd brought over, and while the diva was in the kitchen fussing over it, the rest of the gleeks had taken up all the seats. It was a little amusing, to be honest, because she hadn't planned to fall one seat short, yet it happened, and Berry of all people would be left standing, or trying to squeeze in with someone.

Santana couldn't help her smirk when the diva bounded down the stairs, glee-specific notebook in hand, immediately scanning the room for a space to sit down. She watched the diva's eyes start over at the corner where Quinn was perched on the lower quality recliner, shift across the loveseat with Sugar and Brittany, the sofa holding Puck, Sam and Finn, and then the chairs holding pretty much everyone else that needed one.

She could see the disappointment in Berry's eyes when they finally reached her, a hint of pleading in those cocoa-tinted irises of the diva's only spurring on Santana's playful nature. Deciding to tease the diva for being late, Santana allowed herself to sink back in her seat before patting her lap in jest, never passing up the opportunity to have a little fun with Rachel. It wasn't like she bullied the singer anymore, but she truly did need to do SOMETHING, still. Being somewhat friends didn't mean she had to let up on the diva entirely.

However, when Rachel took a step toward her, all she could feel was confusion, the colour leaving her face as Berry closed the distance, all semblance of composure and all expectations shattering as the diva climbed up onto the recliner and gracefully planted herself sideways on Santana's lap.

The feeling of having her joke literally being thrust back upon her by Rachel goddamn Berry had Santana breathless. All of her senses were afire in taking in Rachel's weight, the cherry blossom-tinged scent wafting into her personal space, the girl's silken chestnut hair brushing her bare arm, the happy little hum as Berry adjusted her posture and got comfortable. In her lap.

It was bizarre, and most of the gleeks couldn't help but gawk at the both of them, looking about as unsure as Santana on what to say or think. It was an entirely new experience for her, and she wasn't quite sure how to react.

All her life, she'd been the smaller one, she'd been the one who would sit in other people's laps. Sure, she hadn't done so in forever, but Santana figured no one had ever cast a cursory glance at her lap and thought 'My, that lap looks damn comfy, don't mind if I do', let alone made good on it. It was baffling.

Yet, at the same time, the weight was oddly welcome. She didn't have the instinct to push Rachel off of her, despite having never shared her favourite recliner before, not even with Brittany when they were younger and could have potentially fit side by side.

No, for some unfathomable reason, she was perfectly alright with Berry being there, treating her thighs as if they were the fine leather cushions of the sofa the boys were sitting on. She was fine with the warmth emanating from the diva, and the delectable perfume Rachel was wearing, and while it was confusing as hell, she had no desire to end her unexpected stint as living furniture.

Thankfully, everyone else's attention shifted away from them quickly, with Brittany and Mike getting up to show off some choreography they'd thought up in one of their mutual dance classes, and it really was some of the best dance work she'd seen from the duo. She wouldn't hesitate to attach the title 'brilliant' to it, either.

But it was Rachel that kept stealing her attention; every comment, every shift in position and politely mumbled apology that followed, every time the girl's body swayed to the music they'd listen to in consideration of narrowing down a shortlist for competitions, they all managed to have Santana avoiding her watch as well as the clock in the room.

Santana managed to mask her disappointment when, after two hours had passed, the gleeks began to disperse, Rachel shifting off her lap to hand out some personalized selections of sheet music for everyone to consider. She took the moment to bask in Rachel's pure dedication to the group, and the desire the brunette had for their success this year, knowing that like it or not, Berry was their rock. This year would be different, and if Santana needed to loan out her basement rec room to give the group enough prep time to succeed, then so be it.

And if it maybe brought about some more opportunities to joke around with Rachel, then, well… by all means…

Santana's predictions were validated when, at the next glee club meeting in school, the majority of the gleeks advocated for making their outside of school prep meets twice weekly given Schue's complete lack of focus on competition numbers, feeling confident they were on the right track to demolish the competition if they kept working on it like they had last time. Santana hadn't even filtered herself in offering up her house again, and it was Wednesday night when they next found themselves back in her basement.

Predictably, Rachel had once again been too busy to nab some seating early on, instead focusing on organizing the space to emulate some staging ideas Artie had designed. When the diva's face went all crestfallen at the realization that she'd been left without a seat once again, Santana had smirked at the girl and patted her lap again.

Surely, Santana had thought, Rachel would instead go upstairs to grab a chair from the dining room, or request Santana get it herself for being so cheeky with her. However, Berry had simply smiled and practically skipped over to her, once again gracefully planting herself on her lap.

Over the following weeks, it became something of a routine. Whenever Rachel would find herself without a seat, Santana would offer herself up, and Rachel would take her lap without question. A few times, Rachel DID manage to snag a seat early on, in which cases Santana would cross her legs, sending the signal that she and her recliner were off limits, Sam and Tina having to lug a chair down from the dining room to have remotely comfortable seating. Given the sofa's armrests were defended with the aggression of the Mongols, and the carpeted floor was just about as enjoyable to sit on as crushed glass atop marble, she couldn't blame them.

It was during the seventh group session in her basement that Santana allowed herself to truly consider her and Rachel's unspoken arrangement. As weeks passed, and Rachel's default seat was more or less understood to be her lap, it struck her that she really didn't know the diva well at all. Since neither really hung out with each other outside of glee, they hadn't had any time or place to talk about much of anything, not that Santana had really ever planned on doing so. Still, though, she did get urges sometimes to just do something to break their routine.

Santana wasn't oblivious. It wasn't exactly normal for two people to basically cuddle up on a recliner together, and then spend the rest of the week ignoring each other. Still, they were starting their seventh session, three weeks since the first one at her home, so there was, like, plenty of time to figure things out, or so Santana thought.

But when Rachel slipped onto her lap that Saturday morning as if it was second nature to her, and inexplicably snaked her arms around her neck, well, it changed everything.

Santana was sure her brain had fried the very second Berry's hands intertwined at the crook of her neck. Sitting in someone's lap was already a little cozy, but girls did that sort of stuff sometimes; it wasn't a terribly remarkable thing outside of the semi-twisted social dynamic that existed between the two of them. But Rachel was practically hugging her as she rested on her lap, and that was way too intimate for her to feel completely innocent or friendly with the diva.

Sure, she knew Berry had looped her arms around her neck because it was more comfortable, Rachel no longer needing to fully support the weight of her own body. Santana understood that, but it felt different. It felt like something more, and it took a few minutes for her to digest the fact that instead of being concerned or repelled by it, she was happy. She was hopeful for more intriguing changes, because last year, Rachel had been scared of her, had hated her, and had seemed to disregard her protectiveness over the diva and most of the other gleeks. It was confusing, but intriguing, that Rachel had taken her lap repeatedly, and now had wrapped those soft arms around Santana's neck. Small gestures, sure, but entirely unexpected ones that had her curious.

And so she remained in her recliner, Rachel atop her all comfy and everything, blitzing through yet another glee session as their preparation for sectionals truly started to get underway.

Predictably, the end of November eventually gave way to more wintery weather, and while her house was fully insulated, her basement had a tendency to get damn chilly. It was a boon in the winter after workouts, allowing her a place to really cool off and relax, but the first meet after the season's first cold snap had nearly everyone wishing they'd bundled up beforehand.

Which, of course, made for a loud, displeased group of whining idiots, in Santana's mind.

In a rare act of hospitality, she got off her recliner, with the caveat that she would flay anyone who attempted to take it in her absence, and went about collecting a number of blankets for the boys to share and hoodies for the lady gleeks to wear since they would likely fit in them. While she knew her threat would stick, Santana still had to feel a little annoyed that her mom spread so many linen closets out across the home, ensuring it took a few long minutes to collect what she needed to ensure the gleeks were tolerable.

Of course, she'd ended up with some extras, not having cared to really count while grabbing the cold-weather items, just wanting to get back to her comfy chair. Quantity hadn't seemed worth caring about, given any extras could just be dumped on a table somewhere.

Yet, as she slumped back into her favourite seat, she watched Rachel dig through the materials and pull out Santana's favourite hoodie to lounge around the house in, almost as if the diva had a sixth sense about that sort of thing. Really, it just seemed a little too convenient that Rachel would find that specific one, yet there Berry was, tossing on her favourite Cheerios hoodie.

And honestly? It looked good on her. At the very least, she could admit that, but before she really had time to digest Berry's possible mental wizardry, the girl grabbed one of the extra blankets and practically skipped over to sit on her lap once more, chiding Santana for her less than weather appropriate attire. Which, whatever; it was her home and she did what she wanted.

Not that having a comfy sweater-covered Rachel wasn't already pretty damn warm and cozy atop her, but Santana wasn't about to complain, pulling the blanket snugly around them both once Rachel's arms were back around her neck. If wearing shorts and a thin tee meant Rachel would pester her lightly and snuggle with her to prevent 'hypothermia', then maybe that was just, like, a bonus. Besides, hypothermia in a slightly cool basement? Psh.

Santana knew the diva would likely leave the recliner here or there during the meeting to block out some choreography, and that did indeed happen. But each time, they settled back together much in the same way, sharing warmth and each other's presence in a warm, bundled up tangle of bodies.

She knew she shouldn't have felt so happy about it. Happiness was dangerous in that it could be lost or taken away, but Santana let herself fall to the mercy of the season's whims and enjoy basically cuddling with Berry for two hours that Saturday morning, unsure if it would happen again.

Present Day - December 18th

It did, of course. All through the rest of November and December, Rachel donned that same special hoodie of hers and curled up on her lap with a blanket for the both of them. It was a welcome addition to their routine, and most of the gleeks had more or less long since stopped staring at the oddity of them congregating on that recliner each meeting.

While their recliner routine remained as stable as ever, the consistency of much of their day to day lives remained, though Santana HAD tried to make some changes to make things a little better. Like, she'd smile at Rachel in the halls when she saw her. Or wave to her when walking to her seat in the classes they shared. Small stuff, but stuff Berry seemed to notice and approve of, which was cool in her books. Outside of sharing personal space for a few hours a week, they didn't really do much together, so Santana wasn't sure if they were legit friends or not, and really wanted to leave that up to Rachel to decide.

Not that she didn't want to be or anything, or that she was scared of asking, but the year had been pretty saturated with a bunch of rejection up until then and she really didn't feel like welcoming more of it if she could help it.

But earlier that week, freshly into the winter break now that finals were done, Santana had come across a rather interesting detail in her preparations for the special glee get-together. Brittany and Rachel had both campaigned for a Secret Santa celebration for the club weeks ago, and Santana had, as per usual, agreed to host it at her home, which was basically glee HQ or whatever these days.

But lurking Rachel's old, abandoned MySpace and finding out that the day of the Secret Santa party was in fact also the diva's birthday? Well. That changed things. Because she'd been hyped for the party in the first place, but having the excuse to play things up a bit more with Rachel only added to her excitement.

So instead of lazing around all week as she'd planned to do, Santana decided to do a little last minute shopping. Because things between her and Rachel had escalated in some interesting ways lately, and maybe she just wanted to keep that going.

Santana couldn't help but smile a little when the doorbell rang at twenty after five. The party wasn't set to start until six, so it gave her a good idea of who was at the door. After all, who but a certain diva would care to be so aggressively punctual for a group celebration? She set down her hot cocoa and made her way to the front of the house.

Checking her festive costume in the mirror, and tilting her hat just so until she was pleased with the overall look, Santana strode over to her door and casually swung it open, her smirk growing into a grin as Rachel came into view.

Even with the girl's red pea coat covering most of her body, Rachel still looked pretty ridiculous. Well, ridiculously festive and perhaps ridiculously cute as well, but, all in all, simply ridiculous. "Hey, Berry. Get in here out of the cold before I'm one elf short in my workshop."

Rachel did practically leap into the foyer, which was understandable given how frigid it was out there, and how little was protecting Rachel's legs. The girl's green and red striped tights didn't look thick enough to be fleece-lined, and the red and green tutu of petticoats just didn't look warm in the least.

"Very funny, Santana. Were you not dressed as a sort of Santa Claus, albeit a rather risqué one, I'd take offense. But it's nice to see someone else decided to be festive and dress for the occasion. I don't hold high hopes for the rest of the glee members." Rachel rambled as she took off a pair of bulky winter boots, shivering far too much for Santana's liking. It just wouldn't do for her best elf to be cold, after all.

"Well, you're forty minutes early, which is just in time to help me prep for today." Santana spoke as she helped Berry out of her coat and took hold of Rachel's hand, leading her toward the kitchen. "Now be a good elf and climb your jingle-belled self up on one of the stools. Santana Claus is gonna get you all warmed up."

Santana let go of Rachel once they reached the breakfast bar, taking leave to make the diva a hot drink. She herself had been sipping on her own hot cocoa for a bit, but it'd been made with milk, something in opposition to Berry's vegan diet. So, with great reluctance, she grabbed some almond milk from the fridge, opened the cupboard with all the tins of coffee and tea, and pulled out some of her mami's homemade peppermint-flavoured hot chocolate mix. Really, she figured if Rachel had to have a drink based on nuts instead of milk, it'd best be something special. After all, she WAS hosting the party, and needed to make a good impression, right?

"What do you need help with? Not that I'm unwilling to help, I'm actually a hundred percent happy to do what's necessary to make this party the best it can be, but you don't seem the type to leave things to the last minute, Santana. At least, not things that you've planned for." Rachel's ramblings washed over Santana as she prepared the girl a cup of steaming mint-chocolate goodness, and it had her wondering if Rachel was a little nervous, given that Berry was a little more wordy than usual today.

"I've got some stuff upstairs that might help spruce things up. They're not all festive, but I think they'll be...appreciated, and it'd be good to get a second opinion." Santana noted cryptically, not wanting to give away the surprise. She hadn't gotten Rachel for Secret Santa, having drawn Sam instead, so she'd spent her twenty dollar maximum on some graphic novels for him, but it was a blessing in disguise. There weren't spending caps for birthdays, at least none she'd heard of yet, and she'd had some coin to spare.

As she turned toward Rachel with a steaming mug in hand, it was clear that vague details or not, Berry looked kind of excited about helping out. Santana walked over to the bar and slid the mug across to the diva, who leaned forward to take in its aroma.

"Oooh, peppermint! It's...it's vegan, right?" Rachel asked, suddenly a little hesitant, even if her shivering body was moving a hand ever closer to the beverage.

"As if I'd risk poisoning my head elf on tonight of all nights. Seriously, Berry, you've been bringing yourself vegan snacks to our glee meets for over two months now, and you've been openly vegan since midway through sophomore year. I didn't forget." Santana stated, hoping to cover all her bases to convince the diva that yes, the drink was vegan, and yes, she could guzzle it down to get warmed up whenever she wanted to.

Thankfully, her words seemed reassuring enough for Rachel to bring the mug to her lips for a sip. It had been a long time since she'd had hot cocoa without real milk, so she could only hope it tasted good. Thankfully, Berry seemed to be into it, downing over half the mug in a single go.

"Thank you, Santana. This is really good." Berry mumbled between gulps as she quickly finished off her drink, looking a little woeful once she'd finished.

"It's my mami's recipe, and you're welcome to have as much as you'd like today. Just no sharing with the plebes, alright?" Santana quickly gained a sly smile and a nod from Berry, who looked a little flushed and warmed up already. "Now that you're warmer, why don't we head upstairs?"

Santana was a little surprised to hear the clacking of heels and a light jingling of bells, Rachel having apparently changed into a pair of ridiculous green boots with a curly toed front, complete with a slew of jingle bells along the cuff and the tip. "And here I thought the tights and the tutu were festive enough. Nice boots, Berry."

Rachel just clicked her heels together, her feet bringing about an overload of jingling. "Lead on, Miss Claus."

The trek up to her room was brief, and soon she found herself pulling a large red velvet sack out of her closet. Rachel fixed her with an amused grin, but really, it WAS the best way to store the gifts and have a decent segue into her surprise.

Santana gestured to her bed, and Rachel thankfully settled onto it wordlessly, because she was sure if Berry started asking questions, they'd be stuck up there when the other gleeks started arriving. Carefully, she lifted the sack onto the bed and sat up against the headboard across from Rachel.

"Okay, so I'm not sure if everything here's gonna work for tonight, so I need your take on it. If you don't like something, tell me, and we can work with that, okay?" Santana asked, before pulling out the largest box. It looked entirely inconspicuous, but she figured that once Rachel opened it, well, it'd be a happy surprise.

Rachel quirked her mouth to the side as she removed the string tying the box closed, glancing questioningly up at Santana as if to openly wonder why she tied it up in the first place. Still, the diva's hands worked out the knot and quickly opened the flaps.

Santana watched closely as Rachel's brow furrowed, her mouth gaping slowly as her hand crept out to take hold of the LP. It was from some Christmas special decades ago, and Barbra Streisand had done a number or two on it, so she figured Rachel would like it. She hoped so, at least.

"Santana, I...while I'm surprised that you own this, I think you know my..." Rachel began before noticing the other item in the box. In truth, it had taken the longest to find a decent card, having wanted it to be sort of winter-themed. She'd settled for this glittery monstrosity with a bunch of snow-covered pines and stuff on it, figuring Rachel would like that sort of thing. Santana didn't know the diva inside and out, but she was observant, she did notice a lot of what the girl liked. Shiny, sparkly stuff was high on that list.

She waited until Rachel had set aside the record and had both hands on the card in question before finally saying what she'd wanted to say ever since the diva entered her home. "Happy Birthday, Rachel."

Almost immediately, Santana had an armful of the diva's torso, Rachel having launched herself across the now empty box and the velvet sack. "Sorry for hugging you without warning, but I just needed to hug you, because you remembered, and I didn't think anyone would remember, and..."

Santana just held the rambling girl closer, which had the effect of immediately silencing the diva. Unsure why her hugging Rachel had silenced the diva, she figured she may as well figure that out. "It's alright. We spend, like, four hours a week curled up on a chair together. I think you can hug me, Rachel."

"You just called me Rachel again." Berry whispered, lightly resting her head against Santana's collarbone, which had the cheerleader repositioning them both so that Rachel wasn't dealing with a box digging into her stomach. "And now you just made sure that I'm comfy."

A slight frown dipped at Santana's lips at the incredulity in Rachel's voice. Honestly, she knew they weren't, like, the closest friends or anything, but she didn't think it'd be so shocking for her to be nice. "I'll call you Berry if you want, it's just...it's your birthday. And you set this whole thing up to be today, on your birthday, and I just thought..." Santana started, before shaking her head at the words that had found their way to her throat. It wasn't right.

"Look, everyone's getting Christmas stuff today, and I don't know who your Secret Santa is, and I know that Christmas and birthdays are two different things so...I got you some stuff. And like I said, it's cool if you don't want it or anything, but I thought you deserved something of your own. It's your day too." Santana blushed at her rambling, not having wanted to, but words had just kept coming until she was finally able to clamp her mouth shut. Maybe she'd hoped too much that it'd all work out, and that it'd be a nice surprise more than a confusing one.

"Santana, I like it, I'm happy, I'm just...surprised. And trying to enjoy the moment. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Now hush and let the birthday girl process." Rachel whispered as she burrowed closer, and just like that, the ten-thousand pound burden on Santana's shoulders was lifted, and she let herself smile.

According to her bedside clock, they lay there together for a whole eleven minutes before Rachel shifted so that her back was resting against Santana. Curiously, she watched as the diva pulled the red sack over and reached into it, having remembered that there were other things within its depths.

At first, Berry pulled out the gifts somewhat quickly, but the rate slowed as she continued past the third. "Santana, this...you didn't have to buy so many."

"I thought five would be fine...you know, it's your thing. Five points on a star, ranking things out of five stars, etcetera..." Santana explained, falling silent as she felt one of Rachel's hands reach backward to find hers, those lithe fingers taking it in a solid grip.

"I'm sorry, but if you keep talking so sweetly, I might melt up against you, and we'd both end up late for the party. Just...know that I deeply appreciate how much thought you put into this. I'm not sure you'll ever know what it means to me that you'd do this for ME. So again, thank you, and I'll see about these other four gifts you were kind enough to give." Rachel rambled, and it was a fine enough explanation for her to just relax and watch the festivities, feeling pretty thrilled that the diva liked it all.

She hoped, in the end, that it was a nice enough mini birthday celebration, all things considered.

As Santana suspected, some of the gifts found their way downstairs by the time the party officially started at six. Rachel had brought the record down, obviously wanting to play it during the festivities, and the girl's golden star earrings made an appearance as well. The package of warm socks and mittens didn't make the cut, neither did the handmade voucher for Spanish tutoring, something that was best left to later on where they could focus on where Berry was struggling so that she'd be prepped for the class in the coming semester.

However, the comfy star-patterned plush throw was currently covering the both of them, ensuring they were warm and toasty as everyone talked about their Secret Santa gifts and how their weeks had gone. Sure, Santana might not be huge fans of some of the gleeks, but she liked most of them enough to consider them all a pretty tight-knit team, and so it was pretty cool to see everyone getting along and enjoying themselves.

Sadly, outside of the two of them, only Brittany had come costumed, the blonde decked out in reindeer antlers and some pretty nice fawn makeup. Of course, she'd expected as much from B, but it was always nice to see her best friend's enthusiasm for the holiday season. And that made up for the lack of costumes and the fact that everyone teased her and Rachel, though mostly Rachel, for their costumes. Turned out a lot of them were itching to get themselves on the naughty list, or something. Santana was confident she'd find ways to sneak coal into their stockings, or at least their homes in the form of anonymous gifts.

Perhaps a double dose for Sugar because, even though she kind of loved the nasally-voiced weirdo, getting Rachel a diary so she wouldn't have to talk so much was kind of a little mean, Aspergers or no. It HAD managed to quiet the diva for much of the night since the gift, which was why Santana hadn't left her chair since. Sure, her legs were stiff, and she was a bit thirsty, but she didn't want to leave the diva and let her think that she didn't want to be around her, or something.

Still, feeling a little bored and cut off from the rest of the room's conversations later that night, she prodded Rachel's side lightly, drawing the diva's attention. "You know that not everyone wants you to talk less, right?"

Her question, however playful, drew a sad, resigned smile from the girl on her lap. "If that were true, Santana, I wouldn't have heard requests like that regularly over the past few years from each of you."

Now, that brought about a bit of guilt, but she'd gotten to know Berry a bit better, and at least enjoyed the girl's presence, even when she was talking a mile a minute about whatever was on her mind. Santana knew people could change, she just didn't think that aspect of Rachel needed changing.

"Well, Santana Claus doesn't mind at all." She noted, tapping the side of her nose as she smirked at the girl who was staring questioningly at her. "In fact, I think it's about time you gave me your Christmas list, young lady."

Berry's face blushed beet red immediately, and the diva lightly slapped Santana's exposed shoulder in protest. "Are you serious, Santana?" Berry asked with an eye roll, but yes, yes she was very serious indeed.

"Absolutely. Have you been a good girl this year, Rachel?" She purred, not really having meant to speak that way, but seeing how wide-eyed and flustered it got Rachel, still red-faced as ever, had her continuing with fresh curiosity. "Or have you been naughty?"

Teeth bit into Rachel's lower lip as the girl seemed to ponder her answer for a few moments. "I think I've been good this year, Santana Claus." Berry spoke with feigned seriousness, and it was a little nice to hear her goofy festive title spill across Rachel's lips. "However, I'm not certain what I'd like this year."

"Well, then, I suppose I'll just have to let you think on it, then." Santana stated with a smile, feeling a little giddy when Rachel nestled up a little closer and ensured the blanket was nicely insulating them as they curled up together. That Rachel still felt comfortable using her as a living body pillow of sorts was pretty awesome, given the light flirting that just happened. It had Santana thinking that maybe it wouldn't be bad if things shifted in that direction.

Not that she'd force anything. No, it was Rachel's turn to take the initiative again, and she'd patiently wait.

Late-January

The holiday season came and went, and it wasn't long before the ramp up to regionals really started to gain steam. Santana thanked her stars that across the next few sessions, Rachel had been just as friendly as before, letting her cast aside any concerns about the diva being uncomfortable. However, a string of sessions before and after their regionals victory had some outside pressure rearing its ugly head.

None of Mercedes, Kurt and Finn had subtle bones in their bodies, so it wasn't too difficult to spot the suspicious looks being cast their way when Rachel, while battling a twenty-four hour bug, zonked out on Santana during one session. Or the confused glances she got for tickling Berry in glee when her arm was raised once, or when Rachel had snatched her faux-fur hat during glee once and wore it for the rest of the session despite her attempts to get it back. It also was impossible not to notice how the three would look back toward the two of them on the ride back from their regionals win in Indianapolis. Which, really, was absurd, since they barely even spoke on the ride back, far too tired from the traveling and performing once the adrenaline from winning wore off. As far as Santana was concerned, two teammates and likely-friends sharing a blanket on a cold bus was hardly gossip-worthy.

Her routinely leaving the back row of the risers to sit by Rachel in glee club, however, did turn some heads, as did her increasingly regular tendency to talk to, wave and smile at Berry in the halls and when getting seated in the classes they shared. Now, Santana didn't give a crap about the increased scrutiny she was getting at all, all she cared about was that Rachel seemed happier with the added attention she sent her way, but when the next session rolled around, Santana was pretty sure she'd finally hear from at least one of the three.

And so, when the Saturday after regionals rolled around, there was a slight shift in the air circulating in Santana's basement. As usual, she donned some shorts as well as a tunic top, which Rachel predictably chided her for before the diva bundled up in Santana's hoodie. Her eyes took stock of the room as Berry hauled their blanket to the recliner, plopped onto her lap, and covered them up. Mercedes and Kurt leaned towards each other to gossip, but Finn looked a little agitated, which was a slight change of pace for him lately.

Still, the session started fairly uneventfully, both glee co-captains discussing the win at regionals, and giving everyone a chance to say what they felt they did right, wrong, and what they might find useful for nationals.

That, of course, led to a swarm of discussions that were quickly sidetracked by disagreements and some minor shade-throwing, which quickly devolved into a number of smaller arguments between clusters of group members. Santana watched in silence as Rachel tried reeling the club back into order, the diva's valiant efforts at expressing leadership ultimately ignored by the defensive reactions and wounded egos of the club. With a huff, Berry finally gave in about a half hour into the session, covering herself almost entirely with the blanket as she curled up closer against Santana.

It was a bittersweet change of pace, enjoying the fact that Rachel 's arms were actually around her waist this time as the diva cuddled up against her, but feeling pretty miffed at how the brunette had been shut out by the rest of the club for idiotic reasons, hair-trigger tempers, and selfish demands for solos or duets.

"Hey...you okay, tiny?" Santana whispered when the diva shifted around, Rachel grumbling in frustration as the girl seemed to be unable to find a position that she liked. Which, you know, was concerning. Berry hadn't shown any discontent with sitting on her lap over the past months, and Santana had grown used to her company, and certainly enjoyed it.

Her question went unanswered, the blanketed blob of a person resting against her continuing the struggle to get comfortable. Santana was about to prod the diva physically to get her attention when an idea came to mind; she leaned slightly to her right and reached her arm down to the side of the chair, pulling the lever to slightly recline it.

And like that, the blanketed blob stilled for a few seconds, before peeking her head out from underneath the warm star-spangled material. "Can you recline it just a little more, please? If it's no trouble?"

It was a bit of a silly question, given she'd already reclined it a little, what was a tiny bit more? Santana slowly continued reclining it until Rachel gave a brief nod and curled into the tiny nook beside her, the diva's arms still wrapped around her waist and two toned legs curling around her own. It was decidedly less lap-intensive than before, but there was something pretty damn wonderful about Rachel basically laying down with her and holding her.

Besides, it wasn't as if they'd shut the rest of the room out, they could both easily keep an eye on the club, considering they were only halfway reclined. It was comfy and efficient, and given that the club was still arguing away in groups, the both of them taking a bit of a time-out hardly mattered.

At least, until about ten minutes later when Kurt and Blaine had to leave for some late lunch date with Blaine's cousin visiting from college. Their departure seemed to kick a modicum of sense into the rest of the gleeks, everyone more or less settling down and shifting to more positive topics if they were speaking at all.

Santana's psychic Mexican third eye kicked in, though, and made her distinctly aware of the newly empty spaces on the couch Finn was seated on, and how the man-child was shooting her and Rachel one of those constipated expressions. Mentally, she counted down the seconds to Finn's eventual tantrum, and wasn't surprised when she was only two seconds off the mark.

"Hey, Rachel, there's room on the couch here beside me." Finn called out across the room, drawing a few of those other conversations in the room to a quiet. Santana couldn't help but roll her eyes at the stupidity of the statement, as if Rachel hadn't taken a seat on the recliner with her before Finn, Kurt and Blaine had even come downstairs to take over the couch. Still, given the shifty eyes from some of the gleeks, it seemed they were well aware that her and Rachel's routine was finally officially being called into question.

Santana felt Rachel's nose graze her cheek as the diva turned her head to face Finn. "I suppose there is. Sam, if you'd prefer to abandon the kitchen chair for the couch, you'd probably be more comfortable."

Santana couldn't help but smile at the redirection, and at the sight of Sam practically lunging to take a place on the largely uncontested couch. Finn, however, stiff-armed Sam and maintained a small space on the couch between the two boys. "I mean, there's room here. You don't have to sit over there."

"I'm fine where I am, but thank you for the offer, Finn." Rachel stated as she took hold of the blanket and pulled it tighter around the both of them. Santana lifted herself off the chair and tucked the hem of the blanket under her to better keep it in place and keep the warmth in.

When she settled back in with Rachel, she could see Finn clearly had no idea what was going on. Which wasn't anything new, but he seemed especially perturbed today. "What's going on between you two?" He asked, brows furrowing as he tried to rub a few brain cells together. Sure, Santana knew it was a decent enough question, considering she herself wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what they were to each other, but it was clear enough that they were kinda friends, ones who enjoyed being close to each other for a few hours a week.

"Santana and I are comfortable where we are, Finn. It's not exactly worth making a big deal over it." Rachel noted tiredly, letting out a quiet sigh when the boy leaned forward o the couch, clearly happy to contradict Rachel's wishes.

"Well you've just been really weird the past few weeks, and I don't like it. Especially with you two sitting all close and near each other and stuff." Finn argued, his face going a little red with frustration and probably exertion from managing to string so many words together in a sentence, as clumsy as it was.

While Santana knew Rachel was his target for the discussion at hand, she just had to offer her own two cents, not at all liking how he was centering Rachel's behaviour and decisions around some idiotic ethical standard of whether he approved or not. It was honestly really stupid, and more than a little creepy.

"Rachel's her own person, Hudson. She makes her own decisions." Santana grit out, just barely keeping from using one of her many inflammatory nicknames for him. She knew it'd just derail the issue at hand, and whatever his problem was, it needed to get resolved. Name-calling wouldn't accomplish that, as fun as it might be sometimes.

"I know, it just seems like she's making really stupid ones. Rachel, you're not being...you know...yourself. It's messed up." Finn retorted, managing to make a more vague and idiotic argument than she thought him capable of. It was almost impressive.

Still, she just sat back and kept tabs on the other resident in the recliner, whose arms left her as Rachel sat up fully on the chair. Santana shifted a bit to the side, slipping her shoulder behind Rachel to give her some sort of back-rest, knowing it'd be uncomfortable sitting up without support and with the chair halfway reclined.

"Pray tell, Finn, how have I not been myself lately?" Rachel's voice was about as icy as she'd ever heard it, the douchecanoe's name actually sending a chill down Santana's spine at how cold and hard it was spoken. Any other side conversations fell silent by the time Berry's question was asked, everyone's eyes on the three of them.

Finn didn't seem to catch onto the cold, unappreciative anger thrumming through Rachel's veins, the idiot instead deciding to keep pushing. "You've been acting all weird and crazy lately. Like...like you want to be Santana's girlfriend or something, but that's not you."

Santana was no master of understanding Rachel's body language, but between the shuddering sigh, the slight growl, and how ridiculously tense the diva's body had gone at the end of Finn's first sentence, it was quite clear Rachel was furious. Still, the diva's expression was calm, a credit to her acting abilities.

"Since our Christmas party, I have become more affectionate and amicable toward Santana because we are friends. As you well know, Finn, I treat all of the few true, consistent friends I have in my life this way, so me being like that with Santana is accurate to who I am. It is not 'weird and crazy' for me to behave that way." Rachel explained slowly and clearly, the previously concealed anger manifesting as Berry's words grew harder and firmer as she went on. "However, in the hypothetical situation of me having and acting upon romantic feelings toward Santana, it would also be accurate to who I am as a person, Finn, as I have long accepted myself as being bisexual. So, Finn, if you are making an argument for my heterosexuality, without having asked me about my sexuality in the past, and without any grounds to make such a claim of knowing my sexuality better than me, then perhaps YOU are the one who doesn't know me. However, maybe that was inevitable, seeing as how you so often ignore me when I speak."

Had Rachel not immediately curled back down with her, Santana would have got out of the damn recliner and given the diva applause for the absolute verbal smack down she just laid out. Instead, she just pulled the diva closer and tried to hide her laughter in Rachel's neck. "Burn, baby, burn." Santana whispered, needing to let the diva know she approved and supported her wholeheartedly.

Santana peeked an eye open and spotted Finn sporting a serious pout, arms crossed, and facing Sam, mumbling about something to him. Clearly, he was cowed by the damn spitfire curled up beside her, and given everyone else was starting to get back to their own discussions, Santana felt it was clear her and Rachel as a topic was now finished. It was a little relieving, and if it meant a little peace and quiet with her newly official friend, then bonus.

Once the room was back to conversational mayhem, Santana felt those arms snake back around her waist, Rachel snuggling a little closer to her and putting them face to face, both quite covered by Rachel's blanket. "I'm sorry for calling so much attention to you, Santana. I...well, I understand if you feel awkward or annoyed with me."

Now, normally Rachel was far from entirely oblivious, but Santana couldn't wrap her head around how Berry could come to such a conclusion. It didn't make any sense, and she felt a damn immediate need to fix it. "Whoa, no, no, that was bad-ass. YOU were a super bad-ass, okay? Me gusta, Rachel. You stood up for yourself, and I knew you had a fire in you, and that it keeps your body freakishly warm, but it was kinda great seeing you burn Finn back there with it."

Rachel's small smile at the end of her spiel was kind of fantastic, to be frank. Still, she could see some regret in the diva's eyes, and if there was one thing Rachel did when upset, it was talk. "I can't help but feel a little guilty for being so harsh." Rachel whispered in return, sounding way too sad over Finn Hudson. And, well, because of Finn as well.

"That's how you are, and you were just telling the truth, Rachel." Santana spoke in as soft and soothing of a tone as she could manage, one of her hands moving to rub up and down Berry's back like she'd done when the diva had been sick. It had helped her relax and feel better then, and she just kind of wanted Rachel to feel better and be worry-free again. "Look, the fact is, he didn't listen to you a lot of the time. He'd zone out. It's only harsh for him to deal with because it was harsh treating you like that. He wouldn't listen, and he didn't know you all that well. Hell, he had to get my help getting your bling last year, and anyone with eyes could tell you strayed a little on the Kinsey scale."

Rachel's head cocked to the side at the throwaway assertions, Santana internally groaning at the newly increased chance of having to relive that afternoon at the jeweler's in explaining herself.

"What do you mean...did Finn really go to you?" Rachel asked, her baffled expression a tiny bit much, since everyone knew she loved jewelry. Still, Santana nodded, adding a shrug in hopes to downplay the moment, not wanting Berry to inquire too much about that day.

"Yeah, but it wasn't a long trip. You're not exactly hard to shop for...you like classic pieces with a touch of elegance, preferably gold. Sometimes you'll wear the odd cute stuff with stars and hearts, but they're usually simple and tasteful. You try to make a good first impression, it's prep for being a star and all, right? You want to be taken seriously." Santana noted, rolling her eyes at the memory of that day, and how she'd gone through the whole place pointing out what was good and what wasn't, only for Finn to be an idiot. "Of course, all he seemed to hear was that you liked gold, and thought having his name in fancy letters on a necklace was elegant." She finished, almost growling at the fact that she'd flirted and bartered with the salesman, and managed to drive the price of some really nice earrings down to a stupidly affordable price, only for Finn to ditch that plan for a creepy necklace that cost the same as the earrings at stock price. Total waste.

"Well...it was a nice thought from him, nonetheless. I know he hand-picked it out for me, so while it was a little gaudy, it did have emotional value backing it." Rachel stated, which was totally understandable. Britt got her the charm bracelet she wore every day back in grade seven, and while it was tacky compared to her usual tastes, she still loved the damned thing because it was from B, and each little charm represented a special date or place for them. "Anyway, thank you for trying to help, at least. But...did you really know I was bisexual before today?"

Leave it to Rachel to keep prodding with questions instead of, like, enjoying some peace and quiet. Seriously, Santana kind of adored the tiny diva, but talking so much just hadn't really been on her agenda for the day. "I had an idea. I mean, you clearly enjoy the Cheerio uniforms, if nothing else. But there were other cues too, a lot of small ones."

Sure, Santana hadn't been a hundred percent certain Rachel was bi, but it was something she always left open as a good possibility. The diva had stared far too long at her legs a few times, had ogled her ass during her duet with Mercedes, had given Quinn's legs a lot of long looks in sophomore year while Blondie swapped books at her locker, and a whole slew of similar times Berry's eyes had wandered. If nothing else, Santana had concluded that Rachel had a great appreciation for the lower halves of women's bodies.

Rachel's blush at Santana's words was a little adorable, the brunette's eyes darting away in embarrassment. "I have never technically hid the fact that I'm bi, but I have done my best to be...discreet, and polite."

It was clear that Rachel's words in part betrayed her actions, but she was pretty sure the diva HAD tried to be discreet. Santana was just used to noticing wandering eyes, and noticing people's unskilled attempts at being subtle. She'd gone through high school surrounded by a lot of naked girls while in the Cheerios, and had to learn to grow a strong will, and to pick her spots when she did want to look; Berry likely had never learned how to be discreet, since girls checking guys out wasn't exactly taboo, and a lot of girls would size each other up. And since most thought Rachel was straight, no one thought much of the diva's long glances.

Well, except her, and Britt, but hey, whatever.

"I know, it just got a little obvious when you'd look too long and start thinking something a little...inappropriate. You'd get all red-faced and squirmy." Santana claimed, almost laughing out loud when Rachel in turn started squirming a little, a deep red blush filling her cheeks. "Tiny, is your mind in the gutter right now?"

Rachel laid a light smack to Santana's shoulder and huffed, sending her an unimpressed frown. "It's not. I'll have you know my thoughts are entirely appropriate, Santana. It's just you pointed out an uncomfortable truth of mine, and it was...well, uncomfortable." Rachel argued, and even though Santana didn't fully believe the diva, she did decide to let up a little. Sure, Rachel was red as a tomato, ripe for the picking, but they were friends.

Rachel just didn't seem up for more teasing, so Santana eased up on the gas pedal and got back to massaging the diva's back again. "Well, we don't want that, do we?"

The feeling of Rachel practically melting against her was undeniably nice, the diva practically purring her contentment all the while. "Mmmm. This isn't a ploy to lull me into a false sense of security before tickling me again, is it?" Berry asked hazily, her words almost slurring together as Santana continued her ministrations. Honestly, the idea was fun in theory, but she'd take a rain check today.

"Now, what fun would it be if I tickled you every time I had the chance? Then you'd know it was coming. I'd rather mix things up." Santana noted playfully, before reaching one of her hands up Rachel's shoulders and neck and quickly messing the diva's hair up.

"Santana! You jerk!" Rachel laughed, hands shooting out to try and do the same to her, Berry's hands managing to grab some of the thick black hair before Santana managed to defend herself, but it was difficult with Rachel climbing onto her to get better leverage. With a swift shake of her hand, Santana's hair was shook from its perfectly shaped waves into a frizzy mess. "There, I think it's an improvement." Rachel added, smiling victoriously down at her through a similarly messy head of hair, a playful glint in her eyes.

"I don't know...you don't think it could use a little more work?" Santana asked thoughtfully, hoping Berry wouldn't see through her bait.

Thankfully, the diva just cocked her head to the side, a sliver of that pink tongue sticking out at the corner of her lips. "Well, now that you mention it..." Berry started, reaching down to muss up Santana's hair again.

As smoothly as she could manage, Santana swung a leg up and pulled Rachel down a little quicker than the diva likely suspected, giving her hands the freedom to slip under the hem of the hoodie and get to tickling. Rachel's laughter rang through the basement, one hand trying to fend off the attack while the other valiantly attempted to mess up Santana's hair even more in return for the sneak attack.

Sure, her hair was totally messed up, and would take at least an hour to fix. And yeah, the gleeks probably saw her as even less of a threat given the whole craziness. Most importantly, though, Rachel was smiling and laughing, and kept smiling after the mini-skirmish, even though both of them looked like cavewomen.

That made it all worth the effort.

The next week started off with an absolutely desperate thematic wheeze from Schue, pushing the week's theme of 'passion'. Clearly, the man was trying to rekindle it between himself and his red-headed OCD fairy, and projecting that crap onto the club. If the word didn't make it obvious enough, Schue only speaking about romantic passion, with no mention of anything else, was the real kicker.

Thankfully, Monday had otherwise been a damn fine day. One, it was actually kind of warm out for a change. Two, she'd aced her AP Music Theory practice assignment, which was a huge confidence booster. And three, Rachel had been flustered all day long.

Well, that wasn't the good shit; it was the fact that Rachel blushed every time they saw each other in the halls or at the start of classes, and always had this little smile on her face. That the girl's demeanor lasted through the tutoring session she gave Rachel that night was pretty damn amusing, and a total positive. Sure, Santana had once wielded the power to draw a bunch of horny guys' attention to her and have them drooling with a simple shift in the way she walked. Being able to make another girl get all red-faced and flustered by merely being in sight of her was kind of huge. It felt really good.

Tuesday had been much of the same, just without glee, so Santana had looked forward to Wednesday. Not only was the entire day assignment and test free, and practice free since the Cheerios has already finished their latest championship run, but it had glee, which meant more time to tease and spend time with Rachel. Sure, it would have been better had the regular glee session taken place that day, but with both Finn and Kurt having doctor's appointments after school, it had to be shifted to Thursday instead. Which, hey, meant four decent days in a row.

Everything had just seemed to be looking up, to some degree. The sun was shining, it was warmer, she'd thought up some ideas for a song for 'passion' week, and Rachel was being kind of cute around her. When Santana entered the halls of McKinley that morning, she'd been in a damn good mood.

Until she saw some nameless sophomore slushie her favourite diva before the fucking bell had even rung. Not that slushying Berry after the bell would have pissed her off any less, but god damn it, there were standards. She'd only rarely seen anyone slushied before homeroom was over, it was just a thing that had persisted across the years.

With a fire in her eyes, Santana pushed her way through the quickly parting sea of students, rushing toward the girl who'd been covered in blueberry slushie by some boy who would very much live to regret it when she was done with him.

When the boy turned and walked in her direction, Santana cut him off, slamming him into the nearby lockers, stunning the idiot and creating a dumb, if potentially necessary public display. "Did I just see you slushie Rachel Berry?" She seethed, getting in his face and glaring daggers at him, feeling kind of happy he was only a little bigger than her so she didn't have to crane her neck so much.

As the hallway around her slowed to a half and grew quiet, aside from Rachel quietly warning her not to worry, the sophomore nodded, a look of pure confusion on his face. "You slushied my captain. I could destroy your life here with a few words to the right people, and that would make for a painful two and a half years of being the school's newest pariah. Unless you want that to happen, you're going to formally apologize to Rachel at lunch for what you did, and you're going to hear her out if she has anything to say to you. Do you understand?"

Again, the boy nodded, a little faster this time, briefly glancing at Rachel before rushing off when Santana let him go. Sure, she wanted to literally skewer him in public for what he'd done, but Berry wouldn't approve, and sometimes it made sense to ease up.

As soon as he was a few steps away, Santana quickly took hold of the diva's hand and led her down the hall to the Cheerio's locker room, the diva already holding her slushie kit. "You don't have to help me, Santana. I've managed to clean myself up many times on my own."

Really, Santana knew that was the truth. Despite their friendship, there was no obligation, and Rachel was fully capable of cleaning up on her own. The diva was damn tough, and there would never be any shred of doubt about it, at least in Santana's mind. Still, Rachel had claimed her as a friend last weekend, and that meant a lot, and she kind of hated seeing Berry upset or hurt.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. So can I at least wash your hair?" She asked as they reached one of the sinks in the locker room, her hand resting on the diva's soggy sweater-covered shoulder, frowning a bit at the realization that Berry's 'Love' sweater had taken the hit. That sweater always reminded her of Rachel and Mercedes' diva-off, and the realization she'd had during it that yes, Rachel Berry could indeed be sexy as hell.

Rachel moved like she was part of a well oiled machine, stripping off her slushied clothes, cleaning her face and neck, and the finally her hands before looking at Santana expectantly. Now, she'd been slushied before, but never cleaned the stuff off anyone else, but the first thing she realized was that it had taken a lot of product to cleanse her own hair from that crap, so she darted off to her locker and grabbed her shampoo, conditioner, and her wide tooth comb, knowing it might take a little while.

While Rachel's hair was definitely thickly grown like her own, it wasn't nearly as coarse, which made it a bit easier to get the partially dried corn-syrup out of the diva's hair. Still, Santana was patient, being careful to feel out any potential knots or snags as she went to work.

"So, Santana...may I ask why you didn't threaten that boy with the infamous razor blades hidden in your hair? I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate the intervention..." Rachel asked, her voice trailing off a signal enough for Santana to answer the unspoken question of why she wasn't as violent with her threats as usual. It was a fair question, because even if she'd mellowed out a little, she was still feared across the school.

"You're not exactly a fan of Snixx and her violent ways, tiny. So I pulled some punches a bit and threatened him a little...and I know it's still technically bullying, but I can't have people thinking it's okay to go around hurting you." Santana explained, hoping Rachel would get it, because yeah she could be a bitch and a bully, but knew the world could be a big flaming pile of shit, and did her best to keep the people she liked from catching wind of that reality.

"While I hate slushies, they're temporary, Santana, and I'm used to them. It's not a huge deal." Rachel argued quietly, but it was a total cop out, and Santana was sure Rachel knew that.

"You shouldn't have to be used to them, though, and you know that. I don't want you getting slushied again...it's assault, and that's not okay, you know? And while you know I'm not huge on the argyle and animal sweaters, you like them, and replacing them costs money that could go toward some swanky stuff for when you move to New York." Santana quipped in return, thankfully drawing an immediate nod from the diva.

"I suppose that's as good of justification as any. And...and I know it's assault, but no one has ever called it that before, so I never thought it was worth talking about it like that. Thank you for understanding, Santana." Rachel spoke as Santana finished up the diva's hair, slipping it into one of her cotton practice tees to help dry it. She knew what terry cloth could do to hair like her own in terms of frizz and damage, and wasn't about to take a chance on Rachel's. Not with the diva looking up at her with those big doe eyes that make her chest feel funny, not with Berry wetting her super mackable lower lip and biting it ever so slightly at the left corner. Not with Santana basically pressed up against Rachel, leaning and holding her head in her hand as if...

"Okay, so you're all good, and..." Santana started as she stepped away quickly, feeling a bad case of word vomit coming on, and she knew it wouldn't be all that good to just let it loose. It was bad enough to be blushing so wildly, even if it probably wouldn't show, but it was a whole other thing to fight the damn urge to just lean down and kissing the hell out of her newest friend. Her friend who was in a vulnerable position, and wouldn't need the token teen lesbian taking advantage of her. "I'm just gonna hang out in the showers while you change, okay?"

Santana didn't linger long enough to catch Berry's reaction, just straight up retreating to the showers. No, she wasn't a coward. It was, like, a political retreat, not wanting to stir up any shit. Rachel could have been wetting her lip because they were super dry; the locker room was pretty dry, what with the dehumidifiers constantly running. And Rachel's eyes had gone all soft and adorable and stuff before a bunch of times, it didn't warrant a damn kiss or anything. It wasn't a damned signal. So yeah, a retreat seemed like the best play to make.

Efficient as ever, it didn't take Rachel long to change, even if Santana may have wanted a little extra time to cool her thoughts. It was only a mere minute or two later when she heard Rachel call out. "Okay, San, you can come back now."

The hesitance and unsure tone of Rachel's voice immediately had Santana a little concerned; all Rachel had to do was get changed, she was sure nothing bad could have happened in such a short span of time. When she emerged from the showers and caught sight of Rachel leaning against a row of lockers, eyes downcast and hands fiddling with the hem of that cute black and white rabbit-pattern sweater, alarm bells rang off in her head. Had Rachel noticed how she'd nearly leaned down to kiss her earlier? Was Rachel weirded out by her?

"I...I don't look too much like a drowned rat, do I?" Rachel asked, those woeful brown eyes easily telling Santana that Rachel had come to her own conclusion, no matter how Santana responded to Berry fishing for a compliment.

It was really sad, seeing Rachel standing there all glum, because even in the less than fashionable combo of rabbit sweater and houndstooth skirt, she looked kinda really beautiful. And with that damp hair in loose curly waves, there was no way that the diva could possibly look anything like a drowned rat.

Santana hadn't realized she'd crossed the locker room until all that remained in her vision was Rachel and the line of red lockers behind her. If anything, Berry looked even more uncertain and sad, probably because she hadn't answered the diva's question at all, but how the fuck was she supposed to convince her? Santana was considering the storm of words erupting in her mind when a quick swipe of Rachel's tongue across that lower lip stilled all her thoughts and offered her an option. And while Rachel still wasn't giving any huge signals or anything, Santana did know how to mix things up and allow herself some sort of an out if it all went poorly.

Heart thumping in her chest like a wolverine locked in a cage, she took that last step into Rachel's little bubble of personal space and took hold of Berry's cheek, caressing it for a moment before pressing her lips to the diva's nose. It was an innocent enough gesture, but one that drew a small gasp that gave Santana the courage to press her lips to the diva's cheek. When she went to lean her head away, and felt Rachel's hands grip her hips tight to hold her there, Santana knew she was in deep. Feeling light as a damn feather, and a warmth in her chest like her heart had been wrapped in the coziest blanket known to man, Santana lowered her lips to Rachel's, gently capturing them in a lingering, chaste kiss that had her wondering why she hadn't done this weeks ago. Wondering why she hadn't done this years ago, when it felt so right.

The sound of the warning bells rang out through the locker room, shocking Santana out of her stupor and spurring her to take a step backward. From her vantage point, Rachel's eyes were as wide as ever, cheeks beet red, and mouth gaping slightly; the diva looked like the physical manifestation of dumbstruck. It was kind of expected, but where Santana had hoped for the hint of a smile, there was just a stunned expression. Berry's hands were still held slightly outward, as if she were still standing there, but for all intents and purposes, Rachel was stock sill and didn't look to be changing any time soon. It was a little worrying, and Santana couldn't help but think that maybe she might have just fucked it all up.

Deciding to take her exit, she ran a hand through the diva's hair to tidy it up a little, and took a few steps backward toward the door. "See you at lunch, Rachel."

With that, she walked as fast as she could to the door and, once clear of it, ran down the hallway to her locker to grab her things for homeroom. Santana had a feeling it would be a long day.

Wednesday seemed to be dragging on for hours, every hour feeling like at least three had passed. The only reprieve she'd had all day was watching Rachel chastise the jock that had slushied her that morning for his behaviour, and killing him with kindness in detailing how it reflected on him as a person. By the end of it all, the boy looked like a kid whose puppy had been kicked, and whose ice-cream scoop had fallen off his cone, and as far as Santana was concerned, that was victory enough to at least consider the day somewhat salvaged if a worst case scenario were to happen.

It was with that lunch's memory that Santana walked into glee, hoping it would make for a nice, smooth ending to her school day. The idea of finally being done and getting to go home brought a smile to her face, as did the open seat beside Rachel in the front row. Santana hadn't seen the diva much at all since the kiss, only briefly during lunch, so she wasn't entirely sure how well her seating choice would be received. When Rachel just blushed hard and squirmed a little in her seat, it was clear that she at least wasn't unwelcome.

Which, honestly, was a fucking relief.

Still, as seconds ticked on, and worries about their friendship and the kiss that morning fully resurfacing, Santana decided to just try and get it all over with. Or, at least, whatever she figured would eventually rear its head.

As casually as she could manage, Santana leaned close to Rachel, her lips by the diva's ear. "Are you alright?" She asked softly, not wanting Rachel to feel uncomfortable because of her. The diva hesitated for a moment before her head nodded with a stiff jerk, a sign the girl was probably feeling a little anxious, if her ability to read people was as accurate as usual. With a long, calming intake of air, Santana decided to take a risk. "If I kiss your ear, will it help you calm down?"

Rachel was still for a few long, agonizing moments, all still but the diva's slightly laboured breaths. Santana was about to shift back fully into her seat when she saw Berry's mouth open. "It might." Rachel whispered, the two words causing Santana's lips to bloom into a bright smile in hope that the diva might actually like her in return.

Not wanting to waste any time, Santana brushed Rachel's hair away, resting her hand at the back of the diva's head for a bit of stability as her lips caressed Berry's cute little ear; she allowed herself to linger there for a second or so before pulling away, feeling a sense of achievement at Rachel biting her lip to contain her smile.

"You could never look like a drowned rat, Rachel." Santana added, hoping to reassure the diva that she was goddamn pretty as hell. Feeling a surge from her oft-hidden away sappy romantic side, she trailed her hand down Rachel's arm and took hold of her hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Maybe lady of the lake, though."

Once more, Rachel's cheeks came to resemble tomatoes, just as Schue strolled into the choir room, smiling like he'd just successfully stolen a cookie from a certain red-head's cookie jar. Which, gross, okay?

"Okay, everyone, let's calm down and get started. I'm really excited to hear what you've all come up with for this week's exercise. I think it's a topic that we can really latch onto and show our full potential, and that could be key to...yes, Finn?" Schue started, before apparently noticing the ogre and shifting his focus toward the corner of the room. Santana glanced over her shoulder and saw he at least had his hand up, for whatever that was worth, even if it was just him asking some dumb question again, or something.

"I've got a song I can do. Can I set up?" The boy asked, all eager and sporting that off-putting grin that made him look like he was a two year old that just passed gas.

Of course, Schue just waved him up to the front of the class and took a seat in the risers as Finn pulled a stool to the front of the room and handed out some sheet music to the jazz band and Brad. Santana had a bad feeling about it, about Finn actually singing, because he only really ever sang to serenade Rachel or Quinn, and since Quinn had skipped glee to catch a tutoring session for her AP English Lit course, that only left him with one possible target.

So even before Finn sat on that stool and turned his whole focus to Rachel, Santana's stomach had grown a pit in it the size of fucking Delaware. And yeah, it's not the biggest state, but it's still a big chunk of land, whatever. She'd spent a lot of that afternoon thinking up songs to sing for the week's theme, and finally committed to one, but it just seemed shitty that Finn would get to sing before her.

"Rachel, when we had our date in New York last year, and you said you didn't want to date me, and were saving yourself for Broadway, I heard you, but I knew I had to take another shot, to make sure. It's why I kissed you during our song, and when you said the same thing to me again when we got back here, I let you go." Finn spoke, his face going slightly constipated as he brought back memories of the two of them during the trip to nationals. It left a sour taste in Santana's mouth.

"The thing is, Rachel, all this time apart just let me know we had something special. We had a passion that could get us through anything, and I think if you just gave us a chance again, we could be amazing. So...this is for you." Finn finished, cuing the band to start up whatever song he'd chosen.

Honestly, it worried Santana. She knew the oaf was a weakness of Berry's, and that the two always seemed to seek each other out and get back together inexplicably. She'd feel sorry for herself later, but right then she was worried that Rachel would make a mistake that could derail her future, because there was no way Finn would move to New York City. He was a small town boy who didn't like leaving his comfort zone, and she doubted he'd leave Ohio after graduation. He could hold Rachel back.

Brad's opening chord didn't ring out with any familiarity for Santana, nor did she recognize the lyrics Finn sang, which had her even more on edge, since she wasn't' sure what to expect. "She got out of town... on a railway New York bound. Took all except my name...another alien out on Broadway." The oaf sang, all soft eyed with his lumpy body slouched forward on the stool. It was clear he only had eyes for Rachel; at least, until Quinn got back into the picture and started getting close to someone else. She wasn't sure she liked him referring to Rachel as an alien, or that she'd take anything of his, but she slumped back in her seat and listened carefully as he continued.

"Some things in this world you just can't change. Some things you don't see until it gets too late." He continued, the verse as vague and clumsy as Finn's usual speech, which only made the song that much more uncomfortable. "Baby, baby, baby, when all your love is gone, who will save me from all I'm up against out in this world?"

Santana grimaced at that, because like fuck if Rachel owed him anything, especially saving his ass from his own shit. Like, seriously, what was Finn up against? He was a tall white dude that most people inexplicably thought was handsome, and had that humble boy-next-door charm. He was playing well enough to maybe get a football scholarship, and even if he didn't, he had a job at his father's auto shop whenever he wanted one, and a room to stay in rent-free. Again, most people liked Finn Hudson, which even if it was baffling, led to him being forgiven for just about everything he's ever done, and Santana didn't see that changing going forward. He didn't need Rachel at all. He never had, and singing as if it were Berry's duty to put her dreams and needs aside for his just sounded a little manipulative. Which was standard procedure for Finn, really.

"And maybe, maybe, maybe, you'll find something that's enough to keep you. But if the bright lights don't receive you, you should turn yourself around and come on home." Finn sang wholeheartedly, and it all just had the taste of bile rising into her mouth. It all seemed so fucking backward, and she didn't understand why he was singing this song.

It didn't make any sense, him singing about Rachel abandoning Broadway, and her not finding something better than him out there. She didn't have much time to gather her thoughts before he started up another obnoxious verse, which was a mixed blessing, knowing it'd be over sooner, but that worse could be ahead.

"I got a hole in me now. Yeah, I've got a scar I can talk about. She keeps a picture of me, in her apartment in the city." Finn continued, Santana feeling close to just jumping out of her seat and leaving the room from how ridiculous Finn was being. He had a scar he could talk about? The future not-so-hypothetical situation of Rachel leaving for New York without him was a scar? After he threw her away in junior year and cost Rachel a nationals championship? What?

"Some things in this world, man, they don't make sense. Some things you don't need until they leave you, and they're the things that you miss..." The oaf sang out as the band erupted for another chorus. Santana couldn't stand to even look at him, so she glanced to the side to look at Rachel.

Rachel. Sweet, obnoxious diva queen Rachel Berry's face was just about as blank as it'd ever been, the girl owning an expression even Santana couldn't decipher as she continued to watch Finn's performance, as if spellbound.

"Baby, baby, baby, when all your love is gone, who will save me from all I'm up against out in this world. And maybe, maybe, maybe, you'll find something that's enough to keep you. But if the bright lights don't receive you, you should turn yourself around and come on home." Finn continued, the chorus just as grating as it was the last time, because everyone knew that no matter where Rachel was born or grew up, New York City was that girl's home. Santana had noticed how Berry had been in the big city, and it was as if every insult and obstacle the diva had dealt with never happened. It was as if she was exiting a dream and waking up in a place she'd lived in for decades. It was as if everything suddenly made sense to the diva, and yeah, maybe Santana was filling in some blanks and making assumptions, but New York changed Rachel. It awoke something inside the diva that had never before been fully free, and when it was, if lifted Rachel up to another level. That city was good for her, not Lima. Not Ohio. And it sounded a lot like the 'if' in whether Rachel would be rejected on Broadway was more of a 'when', from the tone of the song. Which, honestly, fuck that shit.

The harder strumming of guitars brought Santana's focus back to Finn, as some semblance of a bridge started up. "Let that city take you in!" He sang out, passionately, shaking his head ever so slightly at Rachel. "Let that city spit you out!"

Santana was on her feet the second he finished that line, and she wasn't even surprised that Finn hadn't noticed, his attention too focused on Rachel. The girl whose dreams he openly hoped would be shattered. Rachel was her friend and she wasn't going to let him tear away at her any more.

"Let that city break you down! For god sake's turn..." Finn managed to sing before Santana could cock a fist and careen it into his fucking face. She may have been half his size, but she knew how to punch, and when he was toppled from his stool and collapsed onto the ground, the band abruptly stopped the performance. She felt a bit of her fury fade in satisfaction from the result, only to be replaced by the guilt of knowing Rachel hated violence and wouldn't have wanted her to hit him.

"You fucking asshole, what the hell! Do you realize you're telling Rachel you hope she fails in New York?! That you hope her dreams are shattered and her heart's broken?! Is that what you want?!" She yelled, unable to keep calm at the sheer notion of him wanting Rachel to get heartbroken, and her to limp home from New York to him. As if Rachel would ever limp back to Lima; no, she'd lick her goddamn wounds and keep at it. And she'd win. She'd make it, there was no doubt in Santana's mind. So him singing about wanting Rachel's dreams to be broken, as if that's some loving, positive thing? It made her feel sick.

"But it's okay, right? Because she can come HOME to YOU...as if that fate is even worthy of being a consolation prize. Here's a pro-tip for you, Romeo, because you need one...when you're trying to serenade someone, you don't sing about hoping they get their heart broken. You sing about supporting them, and their dreams, Finn. Broadway is Rachel's dream, not you, and maybe if you had a heart and a brain you could share that with her, because she's gonna own New York, but she has no future in Podunk, Ohio or with her flop ex who didn't believe in her to begin with. Fuck!" She yelled, spinning on her heel and performing her first diva storm-out, rushing down the empty halls to her locker to grab her stuff and head home as soon as possible.

As much as Berry's scolding at lunch might have been a positive, as far as Santana was concerned, today might have been one of the worst days of her life. Insulting song choice or not, Finn sang to Rachel, and that had worked just about a hundred percent of the time in the past, which had Santana worried about her favourite diva. If Quinn could date Finn after he outed her pregnancy to her family by singing a stupid song, and ultimately got her disowned, then anything was possible, wasn't it? Combine that with Rachel not liking violence, which could jeopardize their friendship, and it all made for a superbly shitty day.

As she drove home, she knew exactly how the night needed to end.

"I don't know why I keep looking at this."

"Same here, y...you ratchety bitch. Shut the fucking b...book and talk to your daughter." Santana muttered, wiping tears from her eyes as she continued her patented 'Six Feet Under Marathon of Hell'; or, well, her and Quinn's as both of them chose the saddest episodes of the show and created a heart-wrenching mini marathon for when they needed an excuse to cry about their crappy days or lives.

She'd made it through five of the six episodes since returning from school, aside from skipping through a few scenes she hated, and was nearing the end of the season finale, which never failed to make her feel like her heart had been torn out and crushed with a wrecking ball. Through the show, she'd always liked Claire the most, and while Ruth was sometimes even more of a stupid bitch than Claire, she had a soft spot for the older woman as well.

As she watched Claire tell her mom she'd abandon New York and stay home, she couldn't help but feel just a bit more emotional than normal when Ruth pulled her daughter close, anticipating the spiel she knew word for word.

"Absolutely not! Go, live...I'll unfreeze your trust fund. Take it and find whatever life has in store for you."

Santana mouthed Ruth's words as she spoke them, feeling herself tear up yet again. "Goddamit, Ruth, y...you fucking...you fucking MOTHER. You're such a good person." She cried through hitched breaths, grabbing for her now half empty box of Kleenex for about the millionth time that night.

"Mom, really, I can wait."

She shook her head at Claire's rebuttal, knowing full well that she doesn't wait, but also knowing that maybe she, like, could have. If Ruth didn't fucking give her a push. Just like she'd give Rachel a push if the diva needed one, because Claire wasn't meant to live in L.A., just like Rachel wasn't meant to live in Lima. No, they both needed to LIVE.

"Claire, I stayed home to take care of a sick woman and I have always regretted it. But I don't regret you...or any of my children, or...Nathaniel, even. But I do regret never giving myself any choice. I won't let you make the same mistake."

Santana allowed herself a few moments of sobbing as the two women on the screen wept and held each other, and she took solace that she wasn't nearly as ugly of a crier as Claire. She loved the bitch, but seriously.

"Mija?" Santana heard called out from the top of the basement stairs. She glanced at her phone and saw how late it was, and knew her mami would probably come down and give Santana her customary goodnight kiss.

Santana sniffed back her tears so that she might not sound as ridiculously sad as she was. "Yeah, mami?"

The long, heavy sigh from her mother filled the room as the woman slowly made her way down the stairs. "Princesa, I'll never understand why you torment yourself with this show. You have a bad day today?" Her mami asked, stopping at her side and resting a hand on her shoulder. Santana just nodded took hold of the comforting hand, feeling about half as sad as before just from the simple touch. Sure, her mami worked a lot, and spent a lot of her evenings taking care of Santana's grandparents, but no matter how little they saw each other, her mami always managed to make her feel better.

As usual, she felt her mother's lips press into her hair, her mami pulling her a little over the armrest for a hug that made her believe that tomorrow would be a better day.

"Mija, I've got to get to bed soon, but before I go, you have a visitor. I saw your door was closed, so I wasn't sure if you wanted to see anyone tonight. It's up to you...she can come down here and visit, or I can send her away with a snack." Her mami noted, the woman's knack for being hospitable definitely something that didn't get passed along to her, at least not to that degree. Still, it was odd to have a guest so late, and it was certainly enough to pique Santana's curiosity. It was likely Quinn, since she'd sent the girl a text earlier about the marathon, and knowing blondie, she'd be up for an excuse to be sad. Hell, she'd re-watch the third episode in the list again if Quinn wanted to, because misery loves company, and she could really do with some damn company.

"You can send her down." Santana whispered, giving her mami a final squeeze before letting go, the woman leaving her with a parting smile before the steps faded off upstairs. Which, of course, left Santana alone to face the saddest scene of the whole damn show. She'd blame life conspiring against her had she not set the marathon into motion hours ago.

"Come on, everybody's waiting."

Santana slumped back in her chair and tugged the blanket she'd been curled up in up to her chin; she'd always had a love-hate relationship with the scene. She loved Claire being free and making a life for herself despite having next to no idea what she was doing, and no certainty at all. They were alike in that way, because Santana had no idea what she was doing, and seeing Claire make it always gave her hope. But then she hated it because all her favourite characters died, and she had to watch it all happen, and it was the end of the show, and it always made her cry.

"Don't you f...fucking say it, David!" She yelled at the screen once Claire had aired her insecurities on the front steps. She knew it'd happen, it always did, but it always crushed her. Fuck goodbyes.

"You just say goodbye. You just say I love you...I'll miss you..."

The sound of footsteps slowly creeping down the basements steps tore her focus away from Claire's weepy admission. It was super dark in the room, and her eyes weren't all that adjusted, what with staring at the bright screen and all, so when she glanced to the side, she couldn't really make out who it was.

"Be happy."

"I am."

The moment David's line was spoken, Santana felt her recliner shift to the side as her guest climbed over the armrest and onto her perched knees. To be honest, she was too stunned to care that Rachel aggressively wriggled that bubbly diva ass against her legs and flatted them out to allow herself a lap to sit on.

Rachel was there. On her lap. On their recliner.

"Santana, why are you watching this?" Rachel whispered as Claire and her mother said their heart-wrenching, albeit sappy, goodbyes. It was like sensory overload, only made more intense when Berry's arms wrapped around her neck and the diva curled up against her.

"It se...eemed like a good idea a...at the time." Santana answered with a sniffle, arms quickly encircling the diva and holding her close, positively thrilled Rachel came to see her, and was cuddling up with her like old times.

"How did watching one of the most painful series finales ever seem like a good idea?" Berry asked, that cute, strong nose of hers nuzzling Santana's cheek as Claire gave the rest of her goodbyes to Keith and the boys.

"Oh...I want to take a picture of everyone."

"You can't take a picture of this, it's already gone."

Santana couldn't help but clamp her mouth shut, needing a moment or two to just get her damn emotions under enough control to speak without blubbering all incoherently like a baby. "I was angry and needed something to be angry about." She eventually managed to get out with a minimum of sobs muddying up her words. It was just so hard to see that stupid little redhead make her way into the big scary world all alone.

"But you're crying, though." Rachel stated, which was fucking obvious, but at least when that goddamn motherfucking Sia song came on, she heard Rachel's breath hitch. It was good to know she wasn't alone in being emotionally destroyed by the show.

"That too." Santana mumbled, hiding her eyes in the diva's neck as Claire took down the street in her stupid environmentally friendly Prius with Nate running after her. Stupid fucking car. Stupid fucking show. Stupid fucking sadistic writer who decided it was a good idea to show everyone favourite characters die off one after the other, like it was a damn game.

Santana felt some of that comfortable pressure leave her neck, Rachel's gentle fingers prodding beneath her chin, goading her to stop hiding. Which made sense; Santana had been crying and was probably a big tearful snotty mess, so of course Rachel wouldn't want her to burrow that close.

She reluctantly separated from Rachel, lifting her head away from the diva, only for those same fingers to cup her cheek, Berry's soft, warm hands feeling magnificent as they caressed her. Santana was midway through thinking she never wanted that to end when Rachel shifted atop her lap to straddle her, the diva's lips cushioning her own top lip before she could blink.

There was just too much going on to properly think, so Santana just pulled Rachel closer, pouring all of her hurt, fear and overwhelming joy through her kiss, hoping Rachel would make sense of whatever was happening, because nothing made sense. It was the most delightful bit of nonsense she'd ever been caught up in, especially with Rachel still stroking her cheek all sweetly as they kissed, but still.

It was with great relief for her lungs that Rachel eventually pulled away, resting her forehead against Santana's. Berry was blocking the view of the screen while their collective breaths drowned out the song, ultimately forcing her focus onto the diva instead of the weepathon she'd set up, which was probably a good thing.

"Why were you so sad?" Rachel asked, popping open the big topic of the night in her first go. Berry never was one to beat around the bush, though, and she kind of loved that about the diva.

Santana took a second or two to collect herself, knowing that if Rachel kissed her, it's probably a good sign that the diva liked her back, but still. Nothing had been made official, and the last time she thought things had been good in a whole romantic thing leading up to a confession, she'd been shot down out of the blue. So maybe she was a little gun shy.

"Finn got to sing before...before I could get up the courage to." She whispered, laying it all out there, eyes clenching shut as she pleaded silently that Rachel wouldn't taunt or hurt her. Sure, she was sad about a lot of other things, like potentially losing Rachel's friendship, and upsetting Rachel, and all that. But it didn't seem like the diva was about to give her hell for what she pulled in glee, so she figured those issues were settled. The less to blubber about, the better.

"You were going to sing? ...For me?" Rachel asked, the second question coming out much softer than the first, Berry's nervous little smile blooming into a smile that, as far as Santana was concerned, was bright enough to light up the cold, dark world they lived in.

Seeing Rachel was starting to shiver, she tugged at the blanket Berry was sitting on, Rachel offering her a thankful smile and nod before shifting onto the armrest long enough for Santana to lift it and guide Rachel into the nook beside her. The diva took a second or two to get comfy before reclining the chair almost all the way, leaving them practically laying together, face to face, sharing the air between them. It was a hell of a lot more intimate than just about any position they'd found themselves in before, and it was worth all the uncertainty and the wait to get there, because Santana was loving it. Loving holding Rachel close, loving that Rachel wanted to lie down with her, loving being able to curl up with the diva in their favourite chair again. It had her feeling like she could just be fully open and honest for once.

"I was gonna sing, I really wanted to. I just didn't have the sheet music ready for the band, and it was hard, because so many of the gleeks are jerks, and some of the words in the song were a little intense for how I feel, and I didn't want to send the wrong message, but I wanted to send A message." Santana explained about as coherently as she could manage with Rachel's nimble fingers drawing patterns onto the small of her back, where her top had ridden up. It was a little ridiculous how distracting Rachel could be, even when the diva was being talked about, she always seemed to crave just a little more attention.

"Well, after your rant... which was on point, may I add...I let Finn know that his message was received and quite vehemently rejected. So...if you would like...and I don't want to pressure you...but if you want to sing, the floor is yours, Santana. It's just the two of us and our recliner." Rachel spoke as she leaned forward and curled up closer to her, Berry's nose nuzzling her cheek again and drawing a happy hum from Santana.

Yeah, Rachel was right. It was just the two of them and their recliner. No gleeks, no Finn, no choir room or McKinley. Just them.

And yeah, her song pretty much needed some music behind it for full impact, but she knew how to rock it acapella, and Santana hoped that'd be enough. She couldn't be too loud, because her mom's room was nearly right above the basement rec room, but the song didn't need the usual strong vocals. It just needed sincerity.

"Moonlight on canvas, midnight and wine... two shadows starting to softly combine. The picture they're painting, is one of the heart...and to those who have seen it, it's a true work of art." Santana sang quietly, nearly losing her focus when she both felt and heard Rachel humming the music to the song against her cheek, Berry's lips smiling against her skin. It seemed par for the course that Rachel knew the song, given the diva's encyclopedic knowledge of music, but Berry making the performance something of a duet only had Santana's heart beating that much stronger.

"Oh, the red strokes...passions uncaged. Thundering moments of tenderness rage, oh, the red strokes...tempered and strong, burning the night like the dawn." She continued, taking the brief break in lyrics to entangle her legs with Rachel's as the diva filled in the brief interlude with her humming.

"Steam on the window, salt in a kiss..." Santana started again, allowing herself a brief peck of Rachel's cheek because, hell, why not? Rachel was being cute, and they were cuddling, and she was singing for the diva. Why not kiss her when the song called for it? "Two hearts have never pounded like this. Inspired by a vision that they can't command. Erasing the borders with each brush of a hand, oh, the red strokes, passions uncaged. Thundering moments of tenderness rage, oh, the red strokes...fearlessly drawn, burning the night like the dawn."

Santana knew that the song trailed off into a guitar solo, and just expected to take a brief breather before getting back at it, but Rachel's soft 'la's taking the place of the guitar had her just laying there in wonder at her friend's commitment to the performance, and how freaking majestic the diva could sound when she wanted to. Somehow, Rachel managed to make a vocalized guitar solo sound elegant and sensual, and Santana knew if Rachel wouldn't throttle her for skipping out halfway into a performance, she would have just kissed the girl senseless right there because Rachel was doing new things to her heart and she wanted to express how happy it made her.

"Oh, the blues will be blue, and the jealousies green, but when love picks its shade, it demands to be seen..." Santana sang, working toward the finish, hoping Rachel approved. Gently, she nudged Rachel's head and reluctantly put some space between them, just so she could look at Rachel while she sang. She just needed a few seconds of that; it was kinda important to her that she let Rachel see how much she meant it instead of Berry just hearing her. "Oh, the red strokes, passions uncaged. Thundering moments of tenderness rage, oh, the red strokes...tempered and strong, burning the night like the dawn."

Despite the darkness of the room, the gleaming of Rachel's eyes was impossible to miss, those big mocha eyes gazing intently at her, taking in every word, every expression, as the diva mouthed along to the song, probably recognizing the dramatic impact of ending a song with just raw vocals.

"Steam on the window, salt in a kiss, two hearts have never pounded like this..." As soon as that last note started trailing off, Santana found herself watching Rachel closely, hoping Rachel would get it, and that it'd be okay. Because yeah, Rachel helped her out, but Rachel would do anything to make a performance better. She needed to know what Rachel thought about her, and that was kind of scary.

Especially when Rachel let out a long shuddering sigh that had a number of possibilities floating in Santana's head. Thankfully, Rachel leaning forward to briefly press a chaste kiss to her lips silenced all but one of them.

"That song most definitely fills the week's theme." Rachel practically moaned, and it was all Santana could do not to mount the diva after hearing how affected she was. Santana had heard Rachel speak in a lot of different tones, but she'd never heard her sound so, well, wanton. And if Rachel could set Santana's mind afire with mere words, she couldn't imagine what Berry touching her all over would feel like. "Santana...do...do you really mean all that?"

The question was expected, given the tone of the song and all, even if she had given a pretty damn decent disclaimer before and all. "Mostly, yeah. I mean, some of the words are a little intense for how I feel about you. Love is a little premature, but...I mean it all started off as a joke. When I patted my lap that first time, I was teasing you." Santana admitted, biting her lip out of nervousness as she conjured up the words to really explain all the stuff whirling through her head and heart while minimizing the amount of questions Rachel could ask, because she really didn't want to talk much more tonight.

"But now, every time I see you...it's like I need to be closer to you. And I want to hold you, and feel your breath on my neck, and hear your heartbeat, and those little hardly suppressed giggles when you think up something funny in your head. I feel all weird and warm inside when I see you smile, seeing you so happy...and I love your confidence when you're prepping for a performance, and I just want to see you that confident all the time, you know?" She rambled, knowing she was probably infected with a bad case of word vomit, but Rachel's big doe eyes looking at her all adoring-like, as if she were the only other person in the world, just had her continuing, because damn. As if she could reject the diva's wishes, spoken or unspoken. Whatever. A little extra wooing never hurt anyone.

"Every night, all I have to do to get a good sleep is think back to you singing, and when I'm angry, I just need to think of your voice to keep Snixx at bay. And it's all so freaking overwhelming and new, but I don't want it to go away, because I've never been this brand of happy before." Santana clamped her mouth shut, unwilling to spout off any more of the sappy lines floating around in her head, knowing it was best to just wrap it up and let the chips fall where they would. "Look, I really like you, Rachel. If you don't feel the same, I'm okay with that, no pressure. I can keep my hands and lips to myself and we can keep going on as usual...but if you do...if you do, then, well, you know."

Once again, Rachel answered without using any words, the diva closing the distance once more and pressing a kiss to the corner or Santana's mouth. "Santana, do you really think I don't feel the same?" Berry asked, and okay, Rachel had kisses her a few times and had visited her late at night, and cuddled up to her, and asked Santana to sing for her. But that didn't mean she could totally assume Rachel felt the same.

"Well...I didn't want to assume, or whatever." She admitted, which was a pretty lame response, but it was all she could offer Berry's inquisitive stare.

"There's a reason I kept returning to your lap, Santana. Especially after the flirting, the surprise birthday, you being sweet and taking care of me when I was sick, you defending me, and you kissing me. And, more than everything else, especially after you believed in me. Love may be premature, but I'd like to think we've built something together...and I know I've been falling for you the last few weeks, Santana." Rachel explained, the diva reminding her of all their little milestones along the way, each memory forcing her smile to grow and grow until she couldn't help but just kiss the diva at the end of the confession.

She wanted Rachel to feel how happy she was, because it'd been so long since Santana had felt so joyful and carefree. She felt new again, if that made any sense, and it was with that giddy, youthful enthusiasm that she broke the kiss and wrapped herself as close to her diva as possible, feeling quite warm and truly content for the first time in a very long time.

And as Rachel held her in return, the both of them getting comfy under the blanket, Santana couldn't help but think of the near future. She knew if they made it through senior year together, she'd have to bribe her parents for the recliner, because there was no way she and Rachel would move to New York without the thing that helped bring them together.