Road trip - Pezberry week
Written for the Pezberry week: Thursday, May 15th: Road Trip
Rating: K
Words: ±1000
Disclaimer: nothing is mine
Note: I have no knowledge about cars, but slacker_d sent me the prompt and I loved it. I tried to keep references to cars as vague as possible, but please forgive any mistakes. English is still not my first language, thanks to slacker_d for helping me.
Rachel stirred, feeling the car slowing and then stopping.
“San? San?!” she turned her head only to find the driver's seat empty. “Santana?” she called loudly, a hint of panic in her voice before she sheepishly realized that the raised hood probably meant that Santana was behind it. “Santana?” she called again sticking her head out the window, already rolled down for the heat of a typical summer day.
“I think I got it.” Santana announced as a reply, closing the hood and quickly getting in the car. “Yes!” she cheered as the car started.
“What happened?” Rachel asked frowning.
“Nothing?” she waved away her concerns with one hand, the other on the wheel.
“Santana.”
The Latina sighed. She couldn’t escape it. “Don’t worry, okay? I fixed it.”
“What did you fix exactly?” Rachel asked, her tone suspicious.
“Nothing. There was a light on,” she amended, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “But not anymore. Snix took care of it.”
“First of all, you know I abhor you calling yourself Snix,” she drawled the name as if it was hurting her. “Even more than Auntie Tana.” She looked pointedly at her girlfriend, who grinned at her. She knew it indeed.
“And second?” Santana prompted, since there was nothing to say about Rachel's statement.
“And second,” Rachel twisted in her seat so she was facing the driver’s seat. “Did you had the car checked as I suggested?”
“Suggested?” Santana almost snorted, remembering Rachel demanding it more than suggesting it as soon as they agreed on taking Santana’s car for their road trip. “And everything's okay.”
“You didn't,” Rachel easily surmised, levelling her with a look. Seeing no reaction she returned to the correct position as dramatically as the circumstances and the seatbelt permitted. Santana suppressed a smile at the hair flick and huffing, aware that it would only irritate Rachel further.
“Santana, this is not everything being okay.” Rachel exploded as the car emitted yet another noise it wasn't supposed to.
“Okay, ok, I'm stopping.” she pulled up in the middle of the deserted country road. “Don't worry, I'll fix it. I'm sure it's nothing, you saw before, just a touch from my magical fingers,” she winked, wriggling them at Rachel. “And bam, solved.”
Rachel went to open her door, but Santana stopped her. “No need to get out, just stay seated and relax. I'll do the dirty work and then you can thank me.” She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.
With a sigh Rachel consented, trying to keep a grin in check. “Are you sure you know what you're doing?”
“Of course, don’t worry babe!”
.
“Why don't we stop here to eat?” Santana proposed after a while, closing the hood.
“That wasn't the plan.”
“Come on, Rach, live a little. We're on road trip, what’s a bit of unplanned fun!?”
“I don't know...”
“Come on, it's nice, and we've already stopped here...”
Rachel looked around. It was nice. “Okay.”
.
“Santana, why do you keep looking at the road?” Rachel asked as she finished eating her salad.
“What?” Santana feigned confusion, putting all her attention into crumpling the wrappings of her second sandwich.
“Are you waiting for something...or someone?” Rachel asked as her girlfriend once again sneaked a peek at the road.
“Of course not!” Santana quickly denied.
Rachel stared at her. “You didn't fix it, did you?”
Santana looked away, Rachel stood up.
“What's the problem?” she asked already moving towards car.
“If I knew we wouldn't still be here.”
Rachel looked at her unimpressed. “You said a light was on. Which one?”
“Yeah, but then it was off again.”
Rachel popped the hood open and lifted the hood prop in place. “Yes, but which one?”
“I don’t know, it went off!”
Rachel sighed examining the engine. “Do you have an hair tie?”
Santana took one from her wrist, where she always wore at least three since she tended to lose them. “Thanks.” She took it and gathered her hair in a ponytail before leaning forward and tinkering around. “Try to start the car.”
Santana obeyed, always the same noise starting again and- “The light is back!”
Rachel rounded the car to see which light.
“How did you-? Why is back?”
“Because you disconnected the light's wires.”
“Oh.” Santana blushed.
“Yes, Santana, oh. I don't need to tell you how dangerous that can be, do I?”
She shook her head, muted by the realization that not knowing which problem her car had and without the warning lights... “Never touching it ever again.” She vowed.
“Or maybe you could study before messing around with it. Not to mention having a professional check-up when I tell you so.”
“Yes Rachel,” Santana nodded, properly chastised.
.
“It's hot.”
“Don’t tell me. Sunny day, black car. The metal retains the heat and is now releasing it…I feel like I'm in an oven.” Rachel wiped away some sweat.
“No, I mean you're hot.” Santana corrected as she watched her working on the car. “Sure, it's like you could fall inside and be swallowed by the car any moment, but it's hot. Got a new appreciation for grease monkeys.”
“Not the right time for jokes about my height or our primate ancestors.” Rachel grumbled, in exertion. “Try again.”
.
“So…where did you learn it?” Santana asked as they picked up the remains of their lunch.
“I have two dads, there was a good probability that at least one had interests in cars and motors.”
“But they are…” Santana stopped herself trailing off.
“Gay?” Rachel finished for her while giving her a telling look.
“Sorry, it was stupid.” Santana smiled meekly. “Here.” She threw the keys to her girlfriend. “Drive.”
“Why? It’s your car.” Rachel looked at her in wonder. She never let anyone drive her car.
“She likes you better. You healed her.” She shrugged as it wasn’t a big deal.
“It's a car, a machine, it doesn't have feelings.” Rachel got in the car.
“Please, you talk to your car and call her by name.”
“True.” Rachel conceded, adjusting the seat, pulling it forward, and the mirrors. Santana’s snickering made Rachel looking at her. “What?”
“You're short.”
“Do you want me to leave you stranded here?”
“What? You can’t! It’s my car!” Santana protested.
“But she likes me better.”
Rating: K
Words: ±1000
Disclaimer: nothing is mine
Note: I have no knowledge about cars, but slacker_d sent me the prompt and I loved it. I tried to keep references to cars as vague as possible, but please forgive any mistakes. English is still not my first language, thanks to slacker_d for helping me.
Rachel stirred, feeling the car slowing and then stopping.
“San? San?!” she turned her head only to find the driver's seat empty. “Santana?” she called loudly, a hint of panic in her voice before she sheepishly realized that the raised hood probably meant that Santana was behind it. “Santana?” she called again sticking her head out the window, already rolled down for the heat of a typical summer day.
“I think I got it.” Santana announced as a reply, closing the hood and quickly getting in the car. “Yes!” she cheered as the car started.
“What happened?” Rachel asked frowning.
“Nothing?” she waved away her concerns with one hand, the other on the wheel.
“Santana.”
The Latina sighed. She couldn’t escape it. “Don’t worry, okay? I fixed it.”
“What did you fix exactly?” Rachel asked, her tone suspicious.
“Nothing. There was a light on,” she amended, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “But not anymore. Snix took care of it.”
“First of all, you know I abhor you calling yourself Snix,” she drawled the name as if it was hurting her. “Even more than Auntie Tana.” She looked pointedly at her girlfriend, who grinned at her. She knew it indeed.
“And second?” Santana prompted, since there was nothing to say about Rachel's statement.
“And second,” Rachel twisted in her seat so she was facing the driver’s seat. “Did you had the car checked as I suggested?”
“Suggested?” Santana almost snorted, remembering Rachel demanding it more than suggesting it as soon as they agreed on taking Santana’s car for their road trip. “And everything's okay.”
“You didn't,” Rachel easily surmised, levelling her with a look. Seeing no reaction she returned to the correct position as dramatically as the circumstances and the seatbelt permitted. Santana suppressed a smile at the hair flick and huffing, aware that it would only irritate Rachel further.
“Santana, this is not everything being okay.” Rachel exploded as the car emitted yet another noise it wasn't supposed to.
“Okay, ok, I'm stopping.” she pulled up in the middle of the deserted country road. “Don't worry, I'll fix it. I'm sure it's nothing, you saw before, just a touch from my magical fingers,” she winked, wriggling them at Rachel. “And bam, solved.”
Rachel went to open her door, but Santana stopped her. “No need to get out, just stay seated and relax. I'll do the dirty work and then you can thank me.” She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.
With a sigh Rachel consented, trying to keep a grin in check. “Are you sure you know what you're doing?”
“Of course, don’t worry babe!”
.
“Why don't we stop here to eat?” Santana proposed after a while, closing the hood.
“That wasn't the plan.”
“Come on, Rach, live a little. We're on road trip, what’s a bit of unplanned fun!?”
“I don't know...”
“Come on, it's nice, and we've already stopped here...”
Rachel looked around. It was nice. “Okay.”
.
“Santana, why do you keep looking at the road?” Rachel asked as she finished eating her salad.
“What?” Santana feigned confusion, putting all her attention into crumpling the wrappings of her second sandwich.
“Are you waiting for something...or someone?” Rachel asked as her girlfriend once again sneaked a peek at the road.
“Of course not!” Santana quickly denied.
Rachel stared at her. “You didn't fix it, did you?”
Santana looked away, Rachel stood up.
“What's the problem?” she asked already moving towards car.
“If I knew we wouldn't still be here.”
Rachel looked at her unimpressed. “You said a light was on. Which one?”
“Yeah, but then it was off again.”
Rachel popped the hood open and lifted the hood prop in place. “Yes, but which one?”
“I don’t know, it went off!”
Rachel sighed examining the engine. “Do you have an hair tie?”
Santana took one from her wrist, where she always wore at least three since she tended to lose them. “Thanks.” She took it and gathered her hair in a ponytail before leaning forward and tinkering around. “Try to start the car.”
Santana obeyed, always the same noise starting again and- “The light is back!”
Rachel rounded the car to see which light.
“How did you-? Why is back?”
“Because you disconnected the light's wires.”
“Oh.” Santana blushed.
“Yes, Santana, oh. I don't need to tell you how dangerous that can be, do I?”
She shook her head, muted by the realization that not knowing which problem her car had and without the warning lights... “Never touching it ever again.” She vowed.
“Or maybe you could study before messing around with it. Not to mention having a professional check-up when I tell you so.”
“Yes Rachel,” Santana nodded, properly chastised.
.
“It's hot.”
“Don’t tell me. Sunny day, black car. The metal retains the heat and is now releasing it…I feel like I'm in an oven.” Rachel wiped away some sweat.
“No, I mean you're hot.” Santana corrected as she watched her working on the car. “Sure, it's like you could fall inside and be swallowed by the car any moment, but it's hot. Got a new appreciation for grease monkeys.”
“Not the right time for jokes about my height or our primate ancestors.” Rachel grumbled, in exertion. “Try again.”
.
“So…where did you learn it?” Santana asked as they picked up the remains of their lunch.
“I have two dads, there was a good probability that at least one had interests in cars and motors.”
“But they are…” Santana stopped herself trailing off.
“Gay?” Rachel finished for her while giving her a telling look.
“Sorry, it was stupid.” Santana smiled meekly. “Here.” She threw the keys to her girlfriend. “Drive.”
“Why? It’s your car.” Rachel looked at her in wonder. She never let anyone drive her car.
“She likes you better. You healed her.” She shrugged as it wasn’t a big deal.
“It's a car, a machine, it doesn't have feelings.” Rachel got in the car.
“Please, you talk to your car and call her by name.”
“True.” Rachel conceded, adjusting the seat, pulling it forward, and the mirrors. Santana’s snickering made Rachel looking at her. “What?”
“You're short.”
“Do you want me to leave you stranded here?”
“What? You can’t! It’s my car!” Santana protested.
“But she likes me better.”