50 Words in 30 Days Keyword: #39 "Oops"

Pairing: Rachel/Santana

The first time was absolutely an accident. There Rachel was, strolling through the halls of McKinley, too busy considering the plethora of group numbers she'd practiced for glee club's upcoming invitationals performance to notice that there was a parting sea of people up ahead. Had she been paying attention to the commotion, perhaps she would have understood that either Quinn or Santana were having a bad day because people were literally scrambling off to the sides. Sure, most weren't visible, as Rachel was reaching a corner in the hallway that one of the cheerleaders was approaching, but normally she was a fair bit more perceptive due to her self-preservation instinct. Sometimes everything just took second priority to glee.

So when one of the nearby students rushed out of the way, pushing her toward the middle of the hall to clear a path of escape for himself, Rachel was annoyed and stumbling, hoping she wouldn't fall. But then Santana Lopez barreled right into her, tripping over her, and knocked them both down.

Santana had been the fortunate one, catching herself somewhat so that her hands and knees were on the ground; Rachel, on the other hand, was underneath Santana, back pressed flat on the tile and trying to catch the wind that was knocked out of her. She expected that the student body populating the halls would stay to watch her be humiliated, but it seemed like Santana had been having one of her 'murderous rage' days, so pretty much everyone just ran. Rachel understood the urge to not be a key witness to a murder, it was a precarious position to be in, even if she would have preferred some help in preventing said murder.

"Dwarf, if you're not groveling for mercy in the next ten seconds, I'mma send you back to your damn hobbit hole with broken knees, understand?" Santana growled at her as she leaned back, and Rachel found herself in quite the predicament. She wasn't certain how to handle people with fiery tempers and aggression issues, and her mind was hazy as she considered what she learned in a National Geographic book back in fourth grade. Deciding it would be foolish to show submission, for fear of being completely mauled by the girl on top of her, Rachel maintained eye contact with Santana. It wasn't that she was confident, so much as she was simply apprehensive of what would be done to her if she didn't.

"Santana Lopez you will do no such thing." Rachel struggled out, deciding she needed to inform the girl that murder was simply a bad decision for the both of them to commit to. "You will slushie me twice more today, because there's time for it. Then you'll slushie me three times a day for the rest of the week. Maybe toss me in a dumpster or two. I could even see one of your minions spray-painting 'fagspawn' on my locker like they did in freshman year if you really feel like twisting the knife. You're not murderous, Santana, you're cruel and malicious, and you prefer a living target to torment. I've dealt with your abuse for long enough to know I'm not about to be murdered or kneecapped, so please just be accurate next time you hand out punishments to people wholly undeserving of them. It at least gives a reasonable expectation of what I'll have to endure, while leaving room for you to be creative and surprise me with some new technique or act to humiliate me." She rambled, not breaking eye contact with the girl that was basically straddling her hips.

Santana kept glaring at her for a few seconds after Rachel had stopped speaking before standing up fully. "Is that so, hobbit?" Santana asked with a sort of venomous playfulness, dripping in both amusement and disdain. It was quite an admirable tone given her reputation and actions, and Rachel was sure that she sort of wanted to learn that in order to bolster her acting skill portfolio in the future. "You're telling me what I'm going to do to you?"

"I'm simply laying out what options you have. You cannot physically mutilate anyone here at school, or murder them. There wouldn't be any point considering the legal risk of both activities, so it's much more efficient to torture me with actions that effectively go unpunished by administration, as well as a healthy amount of fear tactics to get into my mind in an attempt to scare me." Rachel rambled again, trying to hide her nerves, but Santana had always been the perceptive one. She was like a shark smelling blood in the school, and could easily sniff out vulnerabilities of anyone she passed by. It was something of a gift, and Rachel felt that if Santana was dedicated and motivated enough, she could become a fantastic lawyer.

Santana walked slow circles around Rachel's fallen self, her eyes never leaving Rachel's own mocha pair. "And are you scared now?" It was a simple question, but Rachel really had to consider it. She had always been a little scared of the cheerleader ever since last year when she started, but it was more of a feeling that whenever Santana was around, something bad would happen, not necessarily something frightening or scary. Truly, it was the same feeling she got with any of the cheerleaders. It wasn't something she felt was fair, and after a long day of being pushed around and attacked, she found that she was kind of fed up about it all.

"I'm worried that I'll have yet another set of ruined clothes by the end of the day. I'm worried that one day my teachers won't accept that I've been slushied anymore, and that missing a part of class will stand on my record of attendance despite the truth of the matter. I'm upset that someone willfully pushing me rather forcefully into you makes this somehow my fault in your eyes. I'm angry that every day I go home and my fathers always excitedly ask how my day was, and I have to lie to them about it unless I want to break their hearts. I'm disappointed that the school's power hierarchy ensures that I'm punished for being a small, talented girl with two dads who will escape Lima and be successful in New York. I'm disappointed in you, Santana, for just following along like a mindless pack dog when I know you're better than that. But am I scared of you?" Rachel ranted, feeling that passionate flame of drama fully lit within her chest. "No. I just find myself exhausted by you cheerleaders and your antics. So just get on with it so we can both find better uses for our time."

Santana, for her part, merely appraised her, the flaming rage in her eyes all but extinguished in exchange for an amused curiosity. "Whatever. Next time you decide to recite War and Peace, leave me out of it. You'll have company after each period for the rest of the day, dwarf." The cheerleader spoke wearily, walking away with a lazy wave over her shoulder.

Rachel sat up from where she'd been splayed out, the period having long since started, though fortunately she had been on her free period for the day. Even though the halls were empty and there were no witnesses to what she'd done, she couldn't help but smile. I stood up to Santana Lopez!

Sure, she knew she'd be getting slushied a few more times that day, far more than her emergency packs could accommodate, but she'd deal with it. She always did.

The second time didn't seem like much of an accident. Rachel never understood why gym class was always filled with sports, when they could simply be exercising away in a number of manners; Coach Lorenzen had split the class into two teams for an impromptu rugby game. It didn't matter that almost no one in class understood how to play rugby, of course.

Rachel had long since been prepared for such occasions. She'd always committed to gym class in order to keep herself in peak physical condition, but it also meant that she needed to know how to perform in many of the sporting events in order to not humiliate herself or put herself in danger of injury.

The game was messy, even after the coach took ten minutes to explain the basics which were immensely simple to understand in Rachel's mind. When the game got underway, she put herself in position as the left wing, and watched as much of the rest clumsily tried to figure out where they needed to be; only Santana and Brittany, who set themselves as the scrum-half and right wing respectively, seemed to have an idea of what was going on. Unfortunately, they were on the opposing team.

The game was an absolute mess, most not having any idea how to do anything, most making illegal tackles all over the field. Thankfully, after an incredibly clumsy scrum, she found the ball in her hands, and that meant that she could do something. Years of dance lessons and cardio training ensured she was agile enough for her position, and she had been called deceptively fast by Coach Lorenzen before, speed which seemed to take others by surprise as she ducked and weaved her way past the opposing forwards. Despite clearly not knowing the game, Rachel was pleased to see Quinn doing her best to clear her some room, along with some other cheerio that had slushied her three times in the past month.

It was only by sheer luck that when Santana appeared directly in her periphery that she was able to pivot herself fully, only letting the taller girl graze her as the cheerleader stumbled past. Rachel quickly, seeing Brittany closing in on her, tossed the ball back to a waiting Quinn before joining the rush again. The girl made it about ten steps before being tackled by Brittany, who was like bottled lightning out there, but she was pleased with the forward push. After a few minutes and more attempts, they'd ended up with a try, which was pleasing.

It was on the next offensive rush, this time the other team pushing against Rachel's, that Santana barreled into her, despite Rachel being nowhere near the ball carrier. She, of course, stumbled and went to a knee for a moment, before chasing after the girl and the rest of the group that had started passing them by. Rachel was by no means a sore loser or a cheater, but she wasn't one to take a hit and just forget about it, not when they were playing rugby with apparently minimal regulations.

So when Santana got passed the ball, Rachel sideswiped the girl with a wholly legal tackle, tearing the cheerleader down to the ground from mid-sprint. From then on, the game went back and forth, the match ending in an underwhelming tie. No one seemed entirely pleased with the result, and while everyone had still been clumsy, many had started to get a feel for the game by the end of the period.

Rachel, as per usual, changed closest to the locker room doors; it was always her goal to get in and out as fast as possible, but her leg hurt from one of Brittany's tackles, so she was trying to be as patient with herself as possible in order to not aggravate her minor injury. At least, until she felt and heard the slap that impacted against her ass, sending her reeling forward momentarily until she caught her balance on the wall. Her head pivoted quickly, no one apparently having paid attention, and spotted Santana walking away from her leisurely with a little more sway to her hips than usual. Rachel's face went beet red, and she knew she should have just marched over to her and told her off, but the girl was surrounded by her Cheerio friends, and that made her fairly invulnerable.

She quickly changed and made her way into the halls, marching over to Santana's locker. Rachel pulled out a sheet of lined paper and scrawled out a short note about how she didn't appreciate having her body handled in such a manner, and that if Santana wished to touch her inappropriately, she may instigate rumours that the cheerleader had a ravenous interest in her physical assets as payback.

Afterward, Rachel stormed off to her next period, entirely aggravated and annoyed by the other girl's behavior.

Rachel was pretty certain that the third time was far from an accident. She had enjoyed a nice, calming lunch outdoors, enjoying the beautiful weather, and was just heading inside when she collided with something and immediately felt a freezing cold sensation on her chest.

"San, your ice-cream!" Rachel heard Brittany exclaim in a panic, too annoyed and frustrated to open her eyes and see the smirk that she knew was gracing Santana's lips. "Now all you have is the cone, and that's like, the worst part. It's not even a waffle cone, or one of the drumstick ones filled with chocolate."

"Don't worry, B, it's still salvageable." Santana noted reassuringly, though Rachel could hear the playfulness in the tone, and her eyes snapped open to see what the girl would try to do. Rachel saw the big scoop of ice-cream on her chest and neck, the absolutely non-vegan milky cream streaming down and seeping into her dress. It was horrible and nauseating. But just as she was about to remove the offending cold snack food from her body, Santana's hand took hold of it and placed the messy scoop back onto her cone, Brittany clapping excitedly, clearly happy for her friend. "See? It's totally good... right, Berry?"

Rachel just crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Santana, who had this absurdly infuriating smirk plastered on her face. "I'm not amused by your latest prank, Santana. As a vegan, you've made me very uncomfortable, and you've more than likely ruined this dress. Now, if you don't move out of the way of the doors, I might simply expel vomit on you, and neither of us wants for that to occur." She rambled nervously, the scent of the strawberry ice cream fueling her nausea with each passing second. Strawberry was the worst.

For a moment, Santana looked legitimately concerned, but Rachel knew she shouldn't have fallen for it as Santana took a step forward and, with her free hand, wiped off the majority of the remaining cream from her chest. Rachel's eyes bulged at how absolutely inappropriate the gesture was, and she nearly choked on her tongue as Santana took the cream-covered digits into her mouth. If she wasn't Rachel Berry, and if that wasn't Santana Lopez, she would have considered the possibility that she was being flirted with. Instead, she just got more aggravated at the girl's attempt to get her riled up and quickly pushed past the cheerleaders and rushed down the hallway toward the nearest washroom.

The fourth time, Rachel wasn't really sure. She'd gotten fairly paranoid since Santana had joined glee, and had done her absolute best to steer clear of the girl who was constantly tormenting her. Whether with slushies, or getting cheerios to hassle her in the halls, or her rather physical and personal pranks, Rachel was constantly on edge. Sure, the girl had merely taken her advice when it came to fear tactics, but she really hadn't wanted Santana to take it so far.

But when Santana, in her wheelchair, rammed into her in the middle of their choreography in the auditorium, propelling her out of her chair, she really had to keep herself from snapping at the girl. After all, glee was her sanctuary, and she needed to stay composed if she were to be respected there.

"Berry, why are you always in the way?" Santana snarked at her, prompting Rachel to get to her feet, brushing herself off.

"Santana you seem to have a habit of seeking out physical contact with me against my will. Is there something you'd like to tell the rest of glee?" Rachel bit back, not really certain what else she could say to both defend herself and show Santana that she wouldn't take the girl's harassment lying down anymore.

Santana's face immediately darkened, slowly wheeling toward the diva, the rest of glee looking on. "You're lucky I'm a team player in here, hobbit. Now get in the stupid chair and let's keep going…the sooner we finish, the sooner I can put you in your place."

Rachel begrudgingly knew Santana had a point; they were short on rehearsal time and needed to make the most of it. So she got back in and they continued without incident, but all throughout practice she felt the raven-haired girl's eyes on her.

The fifth time wasn't an accident at all. Santana hadn't lashed out at her directly after the wheelchair rehearsal, to Rachel's surprise, aside from an extra slushie that day at least. Weeks passed, in fact, without much incident. Santana did bump into her fairly often, whether in the halls or in glee, and occasionally she blocked Rachel when she tried going into rooms, or tried opening her locker. Mere minor annoyances at most. The entire Quinn drama had peaked, and Rachel figured Santana was too busy helping her blonde friend out to harass her, but soon enough that all came to an end.

It was four days after sectionals when Rachel found herself without a ride home. Her father Hiram had been out of town in some conference when the surprise snow storm hit, and her daddy Leroy had gone to help him out of a ditch somewhere just outside of Columbus. So she was left to walk two and a half miles home. It certainly wasn't a nice day outside, and despite being bundled up with her hat, scarf, mittens and parka, she knew she'd be cold when she got outside.

As usual when walking home, she cut across the football field to save herself a few minutes, not wanting to spend any extra time outside in the snowy weather than she needed to. However, fate seemed to have other plans, perhaps nasty ones, which were made evident when she heard another pair of boots crunching against the snow a bit behind her and to her left.

"You lost, dwarf? The parking lot's the other way, but with your height, I'm sure it's easy to get lost with the snow up to your chin and all." She heard Santana note, clearly amused about something, but Rachel couldn't understand what was humourous about the situation.

"I'm simply walking home, if you must know. It's a nice additional bit of supplementary exercise, which I imagine will only create a more strenuous workout as the snow builds." She explained tersely, hoping Santana would leave her alone, but it clearly wasn't going to happen. Rachel had hoped that supporting the cheerleader during sectionals would get her off her case, but it didn't seem to have worked.

"It's too chilly out here to use so many words, Berry." Santana sighed as the cheerleader caught up to her, walking closely by her side. "Thought you'd be prepared enough to avoid walking home in a damn blizzard."

Rachel laughed at that; it clearly wasn't a blizzard, though the snowfall as getting heavier. "My daddy took the car I brought here so he could go get my father. He was in a car accident." Rachel noted firmly, hoping Santana would leave it at that.

"Shit, that sucks, Berry. He alright?" Santana asked, sounding mostly indifferent, but there was more than a hint of concern there. It was suspicious, and it immediately put Rachel on edge.

"Why are you following me, Santana?" she grit out, marching ahead at a bit faster pace, but Santana had grabbed a hold of her scarf, keeping her from getting too far without choking herself. Weeks and weeks of bottled up frustration and aggravation spilled out from her at that moment; she was too tired and cold and frustrated to take any more of the girl's harassment. "What is it now?! What do you want from me?! You're so exhausting to deal with! Is there something I can do to just get you to leave me alone for once?!" she yelled at the Cheerio, whose placid expression just infuriated her that much more. "Well?!"

Santana seemed to consider something for a moment, biting her lip, before nodding. "Yeah. There is." The girl said softly, and with one firm tug, Rachel was stumbling into the cheerleader, whose arms kept her from falling straight into the fluffy snow beneath them.

Now, Rachel wasn't one for violence, but for a split second she really just wanted to hit the girl and keep hitting her until she left her alone. As she went to steady herself, she felt her body be tugged yet again, pressing her right up to Santana's body. Rachel lifted her head to ask Santana what she was doing when she felt arguably the softest lips in the universe gently touch down upon hers, if just for a moment.

Reflexively, to keep her unsteady self from falling to the ground from both shock and the surprisingly wonderful sensation running through her, she threw her arms under Santana's armpits and pulled the girl close by the shoulder blades. Santana adjusted her grip as well, moving one hand to the small of her back and the other hand clasping the back of her neck, pulling Rachel's head impossibly closer to her as Santana pressed yet another soft, sensual kiss against her lips. Rachel was almost too surprised to return the favour, especially considering it was Santana that was kissing her, but she appreciated the dramatics of it all and leaned forward into the kiss, taking a chance and nipping lightly at Santana's lower lip.

And then Rachel came to know that Santana was a sorceress when it came to kissing. She wasn't even sure what happened, or how it happened; her mind was too caught up in the fact that Santana's lips, teeth and tongue made her feel absolutely electric to notice they'd somehow made the long trek back to the parking lot. That knowledge was only bestowed upon her when Santana surprisingly lifted her up by her bum and rested her on the hood of a car. That was enough to spur her out of her daze, her mittened hands gently pushing Santana back out from between her legs, putting them about a foot away from each other.

Rachel took a few deep, difficult breaths in an attempt to calm her down; her breath control was usually excellent, but the kiss had caught her off guard, and she wasn't really actively thinking through most of it, just reacting. Her gaze was locked on the absolutely lustful expression Santana was wearing, and she had to try really hard to suppress the smile that she normally would have allowed. Rachel had never had anyone look at her like that, kiss her like that, want her like that. Sure, Puck had wanted to make out, but she never felt like anything special to him. The way Santana was looking at her was different, and she wasn't quite sure she was opposed to it.

"Santana…I don't understand. I…I appreciate it, but…you've confused me terribly." She sputtered out, despite trying her best to sound calm and collected.

Santana closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly, before she opened the driver's side door and gestured for the brunette to follow. Rachel brushed off as much snow from her coat as she could before getting in; she didn't want to make a mess, after all.

The drive home was silent, and she was surprised Santana knew where she lived. After a few moments of sitting in the driveway, Santana let out a sigh. "Look, I…can I explain inside? I can't think, just sitting still and everything, and I don't know how much I want to say or whatever." The girl stated with a furrowed brow, looking a little uncertain and hesitant. Rachel nodded and left the vehicle, unlocking the front door. She kept the door open and stomped the snow off her boots before entering, Santana doing the same before closing the door behind them.

Rachel felt entirely nervous as she led Santana into the living room; she didn't want to pressure the cheerleader by sitting too close, so she grabbed the empty recliner and waited for Santana to get out what she needed to. It had been a good enough kiss for Rachel to feel that the girl had earned the right to explain herself, despite their history.

"Look, I'm not good at talking about shit like this so just listen and let me work through it…okay?" Santana asked as she paced around the living room aimlessly. "I never hated you, alright? It was just the law of the land, and what I was supposed to do as a cheerleader. And then I ran into you that one day and you called me on all my shit. Like, seriously, no one's ever talked to me like that before, making me feel worthless and invisible and shit."

"I made you feel worthless? And…you're hardly invisible, Santana." Rachel interrupted, earning a frustrated glare from the cheerleader.

"Fucking let me speak, alright?! You…you said I was just like all the other cheerleaders, that I could be better but I wasn't. Fucking low blow, but you were right, okay? I was so angry for the rest of the day, because I didn't know how to freaking handle you anymore. You tore me a new one and I wanted payback, but I didn't know how to get the right kind, something that would set me apart, you know? Something you'd remember, that none of the others would do." Santana rambled, and it was kind of endearing to see her so focused on saying such simple, candid things. And it was nice to know that Santana had listened to her completely. She knew from experience that most didn't. "And I was fucking stumped for so long, and then coach made us play rugby and you were a fucking lioness at it. Like, a wild fucking animal! Rachel Berry, hater of basketball, football, and pretty much any contact sport…running around like fucking Mercury out there! No one could touch you!"

Rachel had to grin a little at how worked up Santana was, yelling about her admittedly sub-par rugby prowess. She wasn't all that good; she was just agile and fast like Brittany, but with less top end and reach than the blonde due to their differing statures. Rachel held to Santana's request for silence, but gave her a thankful smile for the compliment.

"And when you friggin' spun on a dime and I basically slid over your hip, that was it. Next opportunity I had, I fucking ran into you, because you were so frustrating and surprising and I didn't even know what to think about you." Santana continued her rant, pausing her pacing for a moment as she bit hard into her lip, a wistful look spreading across her face for a moment. "But then you tackled me."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh at how happy Santana looked and sounded at the memory of her basically throwing the taller girl into the dirt. She couldn't hold her silence any longer. "I just wanted to bring you down to earth, a little bit. I play by the rules."

"That's just it, though. You really don't. You're supposed to be a loser that got hurt from every slushie or whatever, but you were like an impenetrable fortress. Nothing we did could tear you down, and then you freaking call me out on my shit, and you challenge the whole hierarchy at school? BADASS. You get hit by Quinn's right hand enforcer, and you annihilate her both in the halls AND on the field, within the legal rules of the game? Do you have any idea how awesome that was? How…how aroused I was?" Santana choked out that last bit nervously as she renewed her pacing. Rachel didn't know how to speak anymore, too much in shock from the revelation to really do much but gape at the cheerleader. "It's like, fuck, you don't talk shit to any of the other cheerleaders, just me. And even though you were tackled illegally all game, I was the one you wanted revenge against. It felt awesome. I…I felt like hot shit! It's why I slapped your ass…which I'm totally kind of sorry about, by the way…I just felt awesome that you were singling me out." Santana quickly shot out, blushing with her hands up apologetically.

Rachel thought about it for a moment and realized that while Santana had aggravated her tremendously, so did Quinn much of the time, yet she always just tried to make friends with her in hopes of being inclusive, hoping Quinn would find a home in glee. And she tended to ignore the other cheerleaders outright. In hindsight, she HAD singled Santana out, especially since the day she talked back to her. It was a peculiar bit of information, but perhaps not the most pertinent. She, after all, had not been all that amused by Santana at all, but perhaps she did enjoy the cheerleader's attention in some form along the way.

"And then I got back to my locker and you'd left a fucking note telling me you'd basically out me if I kept it up, even though I knew you wouldn't because you're too goddamn nice, but I kind of got the message. I really tried, alright? But then I bumped into you when I was with Britt, and I spilled ice cream on you, and it was like, the one day of the year you actually decided to show off your breasts." Santana continued exasperatedly, and Rachel had to agree to a degree that the dress she'd sadly had to discard did wonderful things for her chest region. It was also nice to know that it was an accident, and that Santana hadn't purposely spilled the food onto her. She rather liked that dress. "And I, like, I just couldn't help myself. I felt really bad because I know you're vegan, and I tried to clean it all off, and after I took the scoop off I was feeling pretty good about keeping decent boundaries, but between you being upset about the leftover bit, and how when you crossed your arms, it made your breasts perk up, I just…I went into my red-alert mega-flirt mode. And I really like berry flavoured ice cream, and I really wanted to touch you, and I felt horrible about it after, but…fuck."

Rachel considered the information, blushing over the fact that Santana found her attractive and couldn't help herself physically around her. Puck was a sex shark, and even he was restrained with her. That Santana felt she had to touch her, however inappropriate it was, was kind of flattering in a fairly inappropriate way. "What about the wheelchair incident?"

"Berry, you suck at working wheelchairs. You were like, ten seconds behind in the choreography all practice long, and everyone was just trying to avoid hitting you and Finn, who was even worse." Santana noted with amusement, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing. "I didn't mean to knock you over, but I had to keep face."

Rachel leaned back in her recliner, popping out the footrest and layout out on it, trying to get comfortable. "So…you kissed me because I talked back to you, tackled you, and apparently have nice breasts? Because that simply doesn't add up in my mind." she asked, not wanting to read into Santana's words too much for fear of getting anything wrong, or putting words into the girl's mouth.

"I kissed you because at sectionals, you believed in me. Even though I've frustrated the shit out of you and hurt you, you still believed in me. You saw me, and…you let me know that there's still someone out there other than Q and B who see me as a real person, even if I'm still a hardcore bitch." Santana said softly, walking over to the window and looking out at the snowstorm. "And I thought back to when you called me out and you told me I could be better. So fuck it, I decided to be better. I spent the past few weeks helping out Q with her kid and her bills and shit. I've been tutoring B, visiting my abuela more, being nicer in the halls…as nice as I can be without Sue kicking me off the team. And...and I saw you walking home in the snow and I wanted to give you a ride home, but I didn't know how to ask you, and I got nervous and shit."

Rachel let out a laugh at that, but felt bad seeing as her amusement only made Santana appear sad and uncomfortable. "You could have just asked. I'm quite forgiving and I might have accepted."

"Britt said I should have been a lot nicer to you, like giving you flowers or compliments or whatever, but I don't know how to do that without getting word vomit or going catatonic, and I figured you'd be totally suspicious and get super paranoid, so I decided I couldn't." Santana explained in a rambling fashion that kind of made her proud, and Rachel could understand. Santana had shown her sympathy about her father getting in an accident, and it had put her on edge immediately, sending her into something of a mini-tirade. A rose probably would have been a lot worse; it might have induced a panic attack. "I just didn't want you to walk all that way alone, so I figured I'd walk and show you I wasn't always a huge bitch, and maybe you'd warm up to me. But you got really mad and I didn't know what to do, so I kind of just figured 'screw it' and kissed you."

"You haven't asked again whether my father's alright." Rachel noted curiously, wondering why. Santana just shrugged nervously.

"I…I figured that since you weren't freaking out and checking your phone every thirty seconds, that he was okay. That since your dad was driving to wherever he is, that it wasn't a hospital, maybe. I don't know. You seemed okay." Santana rambled quietly, wringing her hands a bit as she continued watching the snow fall.

"He's fine." She answered, drawing a soft, relieved smile on the other girl's face that seemed so foreign that she almost looked like an entirely different person. "So…what do you want me to take from this? You kissed me because I made you feel confident and because you panicked?"

"I kissed you because you made the idea of being Santana Lopez again sound worthwhile and appealing, like it would be a good thing. Even if you're, like, totally straight, I kind of wanted to thank you anyway." Santana noted calmly, her eyes so soft with wonder at the sight of the snow falling outdoors. Rachel peeked from where she was seated, and figured it looked just like it always did, just with more snow, and with darker skies due to winter.

"And if I wasn't totally straight?" she asked softly, wondering what Santana would say to that less than hypothetical situation. The girl didn't take her eyes off of the scene outside, but she blushed a little and smiled a little bigger.

"Then I…I guess I'd tell you that there's this Santana Lopez girl at school who's kind of maybe up your alley. She loves music, especially jazz, but she has a secret soft spot for musical theatre. That last summer, while on vacation in New York with her parents, she snuck out of the hotel and caught a show of 'Wicked!'." Rachel gasped at the revelation, excited to know someone else who would go to great lengths to see such a fantastic performance. "And while she has a bit of a rough past, she really does try to be a good person. And she's excited to make snow angels outside. And she might have already bought you a birthday gift as a means to apologize, but I'm only telling you that because she heard you hate surprises."

Rachel just sat there in her chair for a few minutes, thinking over everything that was said from their chance encounter in the halls up until then. It was arguably the least romantic courtship she'd ever taken part of but after about ten minutes or so of heavy deliberation, she looked back up to Santana, who still had that soft, content expression on her face, clearly comfortable in the same room with her, just staring out at the snowy scenery.

"You understand why I could think this whole thing was a potential prank, right?" she asked, drawing a nod from Santana, whose expression fell. "You realize that you've made my life hell for months, and a single event couldn't make up for that." Again, Santana nodded in agreement. "You understand why I could be suspicious and paranoid?"

Once again, Santana nodded, the girl's head seeming to be heavier with each gesture of understanding. "But do you understand why none of that matters?"

Santana finally turned her head toward Rachel, offering her a questioning look before shaking her head.

"Because I'm not interested in that cheerleader. Instead, I'd like to meet this girl you spoke so highly of." Rachel noted with a coy smile, amused at how big Santana's eyes got at her words. "She sounds lovely, and I hear she's a good kisser…so why don't you come over here and sit with me, so you can tell me all about her."

Santana smiled so brightly at her that Rachel couldn't help but be happy she was laying in her chair, not melting to the floor. "I'd love to."

A/N: So this was a one-shot that I outlined the first section of around the start of June, but I never got around to writing it. and then this Fifty Words in Thirty Days thing comes up, and I figure "Why not do all these little one-shots I have built up?". So I did. This fic will be a collection of one-shots by yours truly, some thousands of words long, and some rather short, depending on how inspired I am. Some may just be a few hundred word drabbles, though most of those will be connected to other little drabbles, like single-scene chapters or whatever. I'm going to be traveling throughout much of August, so that means I'll likely be using laptops to type, which I HATE. So I doubt I'll be incredibly productive. But that said, I hope to do as many of these little prompts as possible, just to keep my creative juices flowing. It'll be a nice distraction for when I'm tired of working on YYZ, Province's sequel and Feathers. :)

Note that most of these one-shots will be fluffy. because whenever I have an excuse to write fluff, I take it!

Thanks in advance for all your lovely support, I hope you've all had a wonderful start to your Augusts. :D