Chapter One

So it turns out that in order to get credit for my little conquest over the weekend, I didn't have to tell a single soul what had happened. This was thanks to Rachel Berry's complete and total inability to play it cool, like even a little. Which, okay, I had sort of been counting on.

I walked past her on my way to my locker Monday morning and she practically gave herself whiplash trying to make sure she absolutely, positively, did not look at me. I gave her one sideways glance over the top of my sunglasses and she dropped the notebook she was holding; it took her three tries to pick it up. When she finally managed to stand up, she smashed the back of her head against the bottom of her locker door.

This is the effect Santana Lopez has on the ladies. Jus' sayin.

Of course Spazberry had been talking to Puckerman at the time of her near-concussion. So ten minutes later when Mercedes asked her how her weekend was and she took seven minutes to describe how she spent Friday night picking out new pillow cases at Sears with her dads, and how Saturday she had spent the morning cleaning out the bird feeders on the front porch - all while glancing at me no less than twelve times - Noah knew something was up.

He caught up to me as I was walking to glee rehearsal that afternoon.

"Hide your wives and lock away your daughters, S-Lo in the house!" He held up his hand for me to high five. "What's up, stud?"

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. Unlike some people, I can hold my shit together. "Can I help you, Noah?"

"Just tell me it's true. Tell me the Puckster's eyes do not deceive. I mean, I know that Monday morning look, if you know what I mean, but Berry? So how far did you get? Did you get to touch those hot little Jew boobs?"

"Oh, Noah," I said, and petted his mohawk like he was my pocket chihuahua or something. Then I raised my eyebrows and waited, while reality slowly permeated his skull.

His mouth opened in awe. "Oh no way, you are shitting me! What the hell, I've been up on that twice now and I never got past second base. How'd you do it?"

"I guess she was just waiting for someone with actual game to come along."

His face got all serious and he leaned in close. "Santana, I swear on my Nana's life I will buy you dinner at Breadstix every night for two weeks if you let me in on that action."

"Okay, first of all ladies man," I said, shoving him out my personal space, "It would have to be at least three weeks. Second of all, I was only in it for the v-card. It's so not happening again."

"Please don't break my heart like that," he said solemnly.

"Hey, Santana?" Sam's voice came from a few feet behind me. "You want to tell me what you guys are talking about?"

Well, guess I was about to get this bit of drama over with. I forced a smile before I turned around, and said, "Never you mind, sweet lips. You go gets us our seats inside and mama will be right there."

He wasn't having it. He took a step toward Puckerman. "Did you sleep with her?"

"Welllll, this is awkward, I'm gonna let you two talk," Puck said and ducked into the choir room.

I followed him in, and Sam followed me.

"No Puckerman, I'm talking to you," he said. The whole club, including Berry, stopped talking and stared at the three of us.

"What's goin on, Sam?" Finn asked.

"Oh nothing, it's just now I think I get why you and Puck used to be best bros. Cause he just slept with my girlfriend."

Berry put her hands over her mouth. I mean, can you say holy freaking drama queen?

Finn shook his head sympathetically, as if somewhere in that potato dumpling head he had a kernel of actual wisdom. "It's Santana and Puck, man," he said. "I mean, you have my sympathy, but you can't be that surprised."

I glared at him and turned to Sam.

"Okay, honey?" I said, "I appreciate that you're trying to earn your testosterone badge today like a big boy, but I'm gonna say this real slow - you don't know what you're talking about. So let's just go sit in the back, I'll let you put your hands anywhere you want, and we can all just have some happy sing-y dance-y time, okay?" I took his hand and tried to pull him up to the third row of chairs.

"Stop lying to me. I heard you. You told Puck that you weren't going to sleep with him again, and he said not to break his heart."

"That true, Puckerman?" Lauren Zizes asked calmly.

He got this look of sheer terror on his face. "No! No, it's not true, I swear Zizes." Well, it had been nice that he'd found his balls for a few minutes, anyway. He looked at me pleadingly.

I weighed my options here. Noah was on my list for refusing to have sex with me like three times in a row, but I mean, I had to let him off the hook. If I messed things up with his half-ton honeybuns, he might not steal those little bottles of Goose from the Stop-N-Shop and sneak them out in his boxers for me any more.

"Fine, whatever," I said, turning to Lauren. "No, okay? I did not sleep with Puck." I looked at Sam. "I slept with someone else."

Sam turned that ginormous freshwater bass mouth into a sad-clown frown and put his hands on his head. "All right, I am officially never dating a Cheerio again." The he thought for a second and said, "Wait a minute, none of this makes sense. Why would Puckerman care if you weren't sleeping with someone ever again if it wasn't him you were sleeping with?"

The silence hung for a minute. Rachel Berry bit her sexy lower lip and stared at her feet.

A look of realization washed over Mercedes' face. "Because it's a woman. Santana slept with a woman, and Puck cares because he is just that much of a horn dog."

There was a mixture of gasps and laughter in the choir room. Artie turned immediately to Brittany.

"Artie, it wasn't me, I swear." Brittany smiled at me. "I would remember."

I winked at her.

R2D2 had the nerve to scowl at me. "Who was it, Santana? If it wasn't Brittany, who was it?"

"Artie, don't you believe me?" Brittany said sadly.

Quinn's voice came from a corner of the room.

"It was Rachel."

Everyone turned to look at her. Except Rachel, who looked at me, which pretty much confirmed what Quinn had said to everyone in the room with at least two brain cells. So smooth, Berry.

"Santana has been working extremely hard these past few weeks," Quinn continued. "Congratulations, looks like it finally paid off."

I was all set to charge up those show choir stairs, kick some chairs out of the way, and knock that superior tone into next Thursday, but Noah grabbed me by the waist and held me back.

"Whatever guys, there's no way this is true," Finn said flatly, and turned to Rachel. "Because Rachel wouldn't do that to me."

Rachel swallowed, looked at me, and looked at Finn. "Finn, before you say anything else I need you to remember that you and I have gone our separate ways, and that we continue to maintain a predominantly amicable relationship. If anything, you should be happy if I've moved on from my former state of clinginess, which you made clear you did not appreciate."

"So wait, you did this to make me. . . happy?"

"While I do continue to care about your happiness and well-being, Finn, my romantic choices are no longer centered upon the entity that was once you and me."

"B-but," He stammered, "You went crazy when I slept with Santana. And now you just. . . give yourself to her?"

"That's right, Finnadequate," I said, "She sure did. And it lasted for hours. You should've heard her calling my name." I curled the two middle fingers of my left hand waggled them at him in a "come here" motion.

"Santana, that's enough!" Mr. Schuester yelled from the doorway.

"I can't believe some of the things I'm overhearing in this room. Given the tension in here I don't think I have any choice but to cancel rehearsal today." He turned and looked right at me. "But I want some of us to go home and instead spend time thinking much more carefully about the consequences of our actions. And when you come back here tomorrow I expect you to leave your personal dramas at the door and act like a team. Now go."

As most of the club filed out, I stayed behind and waited for Brittany.

"So you slept with Rachel?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Are you going to make lady babies with her?" she frowned.

". . . No."

"Okay." She paused. "Did she taste like berries down there?"

". . . No. I mean, I don't know, we didn't. . . we didn't do that."

"Oh," she said, confused. "But, why?"

"I don't know, she was a virgin. I didn't want to, like, overwhelm her."

"If you find out, can you let me know? I never thought about it before, but now I realize I've been dying of suspense all along."

Outside in the hallway, Mr. Schue's speech had done pretty much squat to diffuse the drama. Finn was scrunching up his face like he smelled something really terrible, and telling Rachel he didn't want to talk to her, as if that's some kind of punishment.

Puck and Mike were grinning at each other and Tina smacked Mike on the arm, so clearly they were talking about me getting naked with Berry.

Brits and Optimus Prime were talking all sincerely, probably because he had to apologize for being an ass to her, once again.

Mercedes was talking to Sam, but he kept glaring at me.

Zizes sat Indian style in the middle of the hallway and requested popcorn from no one in particular.

And Quinn was waiting for me right outside the doorway.

"Don't mess with me, muchacha, I's about to pop off," I said to her with one finger in the air as I walked past.

"You know Santana, just when I think you can't get any more manipulative and hurtful," she said, "you manage to find ways to top yourself. It is one thing to take Sam away from someone who actually cared about him just so you could embarrass him like this. But to completely just use a person, the way you did to Rachel, that's low even for you."

The chatter in the hallway died down as everyone tuned in to Quinn and me.

"She has a point, Santana," Mercedes said, "What you did was pretty cold."

"You stay out of this, Precious. And by the way, back off the Biebs over there, cause I'm a tougher act to follow than you can manage." I turned back around to Quinn.

"And excuse me Cheaty McHypocrite, all I did was point out to Sam what he was too whipped to admit to himself. And as for Snap, Crackle, Pop over there, nobody forced her to do anything. Also, by the way, since when do you care?"

"I care about basic decency, you should try it sometime."

I was like two seconds from helping myself to handfuls of blond hair, when Berry started making a big show of clearing her throat. "Excuse me," she said, clapping her hands. "Excuse me everyone, I'd like the opportunity to address you all."

God, that would have been intolerable if I weren't able to picture what she looked like having an orgasm.

She walked over and stood between Quinn and me.

She reached out and took Quinn's hand. "Quinn, I have to say that I'm touched by your unexpected concern for my well-being in this tumultuous time. And I know most of you are experiencing a range of emotions, from betrayal to amusement and even titillation.

I also know that most of you probably view me, the virginal young ingenue, as an innocent party, and Santana here, the sultry Latina with a seedy past, as some sort of predator." She turned to me and took my hand instead.

"But I would be remiss if I didn't point out that I entered into Friday night's proceedings completely aware of my activities and their possible consequences.

I would just ask you all to put yourself in my shoes. Suddenly, after years of being picked on and put down by those at the top of the social pyramid, I find myself the object of the affections of a pretty, popular cheerleader. And not just any pretty, popular cheerleader. One who has, in the past, given me many reasons to feel intimidated and insecure. Then suddenly, one day she wants me. It's exciting. And I've realized lately that I need to try harder to live life to the fullest. And if that introduces some turmoil into my life, well, so be it. It will only enhance my creative capabilities.

And finally, Glee Clubbers, I must tell you that the last few days I have felt empowered, a-and. . free! You may question Santana's motivations, and in fact you may be crazy not to. But you cannot question the effect our time together has had on me. Thank you for your attention."

Brittany started clapping until she realized no one else was.

And then Berry fucking curtsied. Even picturing her O-face barely kept me from tasting bile.

"Rachel, if that's all true, we're happy for you," Mercedes spoke up. "I think part of it is that some of us are just surprised you would do this without being manipulated, because we didn't know you were into girls."

"Oh please, Mercedes, I'm a theatre artist. Same-sex experimentation is as indispensable as an equity card."

"You're going to wind up getting hurt, Rachel," Quinn said, shaking her head. "You think it's exciting and fun but you need to think about who you're dealing with."

"Quinn, with all due respect, I think the history of nastiness between you and Santana is clouding your viewpoint."

"I'm starting to think that's not all that's clouding her viewpoint," I said.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked.

"Never mind. So Berry," I turned and looked straight into her eyes for the first time that day. "Do you want to do it again?"

She looked straight back at me and said breathlessly, "Totally."

I turned my back on the crowd of gaping gleetards and pulled Rachel by the hand down the hall past the choir room and toward the nearest girls' room.