Pezberry: The Snow is Cold
Fandom: Glee
Title: The Snow is Cold
Author: purrpickle
Rating: T/R (possibly an M rating later *smirk*)
Length: 1,000+
Chapter: Three (One, Two)
Pairing(s): Rachel/Santana
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee nor the characters within.
Summary: All Santana Lopez wants to do with her free day is enjoy her old theatre with its old movies in peace. But then the very infuriating Rachel Berry shows up and won't leave her alone. Of course, to make matters worse, they get snowed in. Dammit.
Brittany and Quinn were being stupid bitches (Quinn more than Brittany, obviously). Wanting to stave off the impending torture, Santana had hoped that one or both of the blondes would be available by phone, but annoyingly both weren't picking up. Shooting off quick texts telling them to call her as soon as they fucking could, she growled and threw her phone angrily at her parka, happy after the fact that she'd actually hit it and not the wall.
Hearing the sound of approaching voices, Santana turned her back to the door and started running through her stretching routine again; she'd gladly ignore Rachel as long as she could.
"…Thank you for doing this."
"Well, I have to admit that I'm dying from curiosity," Santana could hear the excited smile in Rachel's voice, and she sneered, "Though I never seriously contemplated becoming a cheerleader, I cannot deny that even experiencing this glimpse of the sport is highly exciting for me."
Santana blinked. Wait. Hold up. Going to turn her head to stare at Rachel before she caught herself, she scowled down at her shoes. Out of everyone, she never would have expected the annoying midget to be one who called cheerleading a sport. She meant, fuck, it was, especially with what Sue made them do, but most people never looked past the short skirts and pom-poms. Suddenly uncomfortable, she rolled her shoulders, concentrating back on the conversation.
"Ah, well, I'm sure you'll be great at it," Doug answered with a smile in his voice, "But don't worry, we'll start you off slow. Right, Santana?" He spoke louder as he came up behind her.
Santana rolled her eyes. "Sure," she grunted, straightening and turning around, "Whatever." Pulling her arms behind her back, she stared unimpressed at Rachel, then sighed in annoyance. "You have anything under that monstrosity you call 'clothing'?"
Rachel's eyes widened a little, and she looked down. Her brows furrowed, and she gave Santana a hard look even as she crossed her arms self consciously over her chest. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she huffed.
"Aside from the fact that you look prepubescent and like a reject from anything that could be called 'fashionable', sure. You look fine." Santana made sure her voice dripped insincerity; it was an art form she'd perfected ever since Quinn and Brittany and she had decided to rule the halls as the Unholy Trinity. She pulled her arms up to bend them back over her shoulder, one by one, "So. Berry. Again. Got anything under that?"
Rachel's frown grew, and old hurt flickered in her eyes before she drew herself up straight. "Santana, regardless of your old taunts about my clothing, is there a reason - a valid reason, I might add - that you are asking about my current wardrobe?"
Okay, words weren't obviously enough for the annoying hobbit. Dropping her arms, Santana stalked forward, enjoying watching Rachel square herself as she came nearer, raising her chin and standing up straight. The only thing that dampened her amusement was, fuck, she'd have to touch the girl. Sure, she was supposed to touch her - even hold her, Santana shuddered - later, but that was for Doug. Only for her friend.
Unceremoniously, Santana grabbed one of Rachel's forearms, tugging it down and trying to ignore the fact that her knuckles skimmed against what felt surprisingly like a nice sized breast. Rachel's mouth dropped open, and she jerked a little, arm tensing in Santana's grip. Her voice rose, "Santana, what are you - "
"Shut it, Man Hands." Frowning, Santana pinched her lips together and started pushing her hand up and down Rachel's arm. The fabric of her sweater bunched and slid up and down with her hand. Just like she thought - there was no way she'd be able to keep a grip on her. "Stand still," she ordered again, "I want to make this as quick as I can."
Rachel stared up at her, arm still pulled closer to her chest even with Santana's hand wrapped around it. Her eyebrows were drawn together, and her lips were slightly open in surprise or for the beginning of a protest. Thank god, Santana thought when the small girl finally relaxed a small degree without speaking. Miracles, miracles.
Santana willfully avoided thinking about what she was doing when she took her other hand and placed it onto Rachel's waist. Tightening her grip a little, she began feeling out the fabric there as well. Fuck. Rachel was tiny and in shape. No, fuck that! The only important thing was her sweater was too big. This, feeling Treasure Trail? This was all kinds of wrong!
As close as they were again, Rachel still ended up squeaking and shifting forward, bringing herself even closer to Santana. Ticklish? Rachel freaking Berry was ticklish? Oh, god damn hallelujah, how could she use this information?
"Santana," Rachel said in a tight voice, "What are you accomplishing?"
Dropping her hand from Rachel's arm, Santana looked down and arched an eyebrow, "Just what I thought. Your sweater has gots to go." Curling her fingers under the bottom of the purple eyesore, Santana yanked it up Rachel's side. Expecting to see a shirt or camisole or one of the stupid training bras the smaller girl had mentioned before, tan skin and fit abs met her instead.
What the… Hot sweet damn!
Eyes widening before she could stop them, Santana snapped her gaze up to meet Rachel's.
Shoving down her sweater and jumping back from Santana as fast as she could, Rachel's face was quickly becoming red. Mouth flapping open, she took a couple of deep breaths, then crossed her arms. "I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Santana. I am sure you were not trying to molest me." Though they were statements, they came out as questions.
Still a little off kilter and trying to blink away the image seared into her brain, Santana brought her familiar sneer back up to her face. "Oh, Berry, as if. Like you have anything I'd like to see." Oh fuck, what did the rest of her stomach look like? "And it's your fault, you know. If you had just fuckin' answered my question, I wouldn't have been forced to look at you." No. No. No no no. There was nothing about the little midget spore that was even close to attractive!
…Oh god. It was disturbing that she even had to think about that. No. Ew. Ew. Ew!
To save her sanity, Santana shoved her thoughts away.
"Uhh… Hey." Doug cleared his throat, coming up behind the two of them.
…Damn. Mentally wincing, Santana gave Rachel one more arrogant glare and turned around. With an incredibly disappointed expression on his face, Doug gave what looked like a small extra theatre issued shirt to Rachel. "Here," he managed a smile at her, "Your sweater's too loose for Santana and me to hold onto you while we're doing this."
Light dawned on Rachel's face, and she turned her own glare onto Santana, who just scoffed and shook her head. Not her fault the dwarf was so fricken' clueless!
Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Doug then focused on Santana. "Can I talk to you?" he motioned his head towards the table she and he had pushed aside earlier.
"No, that's okay." Rachel interrupted, drawing both of their attention, "You two stay here. I'll just… Go change." Giving Doug a fleeting smile and ignoring Santana outright, Rachel left the room. As soon the door closed behind her, Doug drew in a deep breath.
Before he could speak, Santana raised a hand. "I know."
"Know what? Because I don't think you do."
"Excuse me?" Taken aback, Santana frowned. True, she'd said that just to deflect the conversation, but she hadn't expected her friend to deflect it back. Putting most of her weight onto one foot, she resisted the urge to cross her arms, slipping her thumbs into her jeans pockets instead.
Doug nodded. "San." He dropped his head, an exasperated curl to his lips, "Just tone down your bitchitude while she's helping, okay? You should have heard her - she's excited and happy to help. No matter your personal feelings…" At this, he eyed Santana warily, making her frown deepen, "It's better than just sitting around and being incredibly bored, isn't it? We're stuck together. Why not do something with that?"
Dammit, Dougie! He just didn't - wouldn't understand!
The door opened behind her, and Santana tilted her head around to see Rachel slip back inside. Smoothing down the form fitted blue t-shirt that had Avatar splashed across it that she was now wearing, the action making Santana's eyes draw down while she remembered the short glimpse she'd seen of what was underneath, Rachel gave the two of them a shy smile. "Well?" she asked, still somewhat ignoring Santana, "Should we get started?"
Santana narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she bit out, tossing her hair and cracking her knuckles, "Let's do this shit."
Doug snorted, shaking his head again, but grinned at the two girls excitedly, "Sounds good! Rachel. San. Let's get to it!"
Rachel smiled broadly back at him, starting to rock back and forth on her toes, "So what's first?"
Finding her annoying as all hell, Santana groaned internally. Damn damn damn. This was gonna suck.
Title: The Snow is Cold
Author: purrpickle
Rating: T/R (possibly an M rating later *smirk*)
Length: 1,000+
Chapter: Three (One, Two)
Pairing(s): Rachel/Santana
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee nor the characters within.
Summary: All Santana Lopez wants to do with her free day is enjoy her old theatre with its old movies in peace. But then the very infuriating Rachel Berry shows up and won't leave her alone. Of course, to make matters worse, they get snowed in. Dammit.
Brittany and Quinn were being stupid bitches (Quinn more than Brittany, obviously). Wanting to stave off the impending torture, Santana had hoped that one or both of the blondes would be available by phone, but annoyingly both weren't picking up. Shooting off quick texts telling them to call her as soon as they fucking could, she growled and threw her phone angrily at her parka, happy after the fact that she'd actually hit it and not the wall.
Hearing the sound of approaching voices, Santana turned her back to the door and started running through her stretching routine again; she'd gladly ignore Rachel as long as she could.
"…Thank you for doing this."
"Well, I have to admit that I'm dying from curiosity," Santana could hear the excited smile in Rachel's voice, and she sneered, "Though I never seriously contemplated becoming a cheerleader, I cannot deny that even experiencing this glimpse of the sport is highly exciting for me."
Santana blinked. Wait. Hold up. Going to turn her head to stare at Rachel before she caught herself, she scowled down at her shoes. Out of everyone, she never would have expected the annoying midget to be one who called cheerleading a sport. She meant, fuck, it was, especially with what Sue made them do, but most people never looked past the short skirts and pom-poms. Suddenly uncomfortable, she rolled her shoulders, concentrating back on the conversation.
"Ah, well, I'm sure you'll be great at it," Doug answered with a smile in his voice, "But don't worry, we'll start you off slow. Right, Santana?" He spoke louder as he came up behind her.
Santana rolled her eyes. "Sure," she grunted, straightening and turning around, "Whatever." Pulling her arms behind her back, she stared unimpressed at Rachel, then sighed in annoyance. "You have anything under that monstrosity you call 'clothing'?"
Rachel's eyes widened a little, and she looked down. Her brows furrowed, and she gave Santana a hard look even as she crossed her arms self consciously over her chest. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she huffed.
"Aside from the fact that you look prepubescent and like a reject from anything that could be called 'fashionable', sure. You look fine." Santana made sure her voice dripped insincerity; it was an art form she'd perfected ever since Quinn and Brittany and she had decided to rule the halls as the Unholy Trinity. She pulled her arms up to bend them back over her shoulder, one by one, "So. Berry. Again. Got anything under that?"
Rachel's frown grew, and old hurt flickered in her eyes before she drew herself up straight. "Santana, regardless of your old taunts about my clothing, is there a reason - a valid reason, I might add - that you are asking about my current wardrobe?"
Okay, words weren't obviously enough for the annoying hobbit. Dropping her arms, Santana stalked forward, enjoying watching Rachel square herself as she came nearer, raising her chin and standing up straight. The only thing that dampened her amusement was, fuck, she'd have to touch the girl. Sure, she was supposed to touch her - even hold her, Santana shuddered - later, but that was for Doug. Only for her friend.
Unceremoniously, Santana grabbed one of Rachel's forearms, tugging it down and trying to ignore the fact that her knuckles skimmed against what felt surprisingly like a nice sized breast. Rachel's mouth dropped open, and she jerked a little, arm tensing in Santana's grip. Her voice rose, "Santana, what are you - "
"Shut it, Man Hands." Frowning, Santana pinched her lips together and started pushing her hand up and down Rachel's arm. The fabric of her sweater bunched and slid up and down with her hand. Just like she thought - there was no way she'd be able to keep a grip on her. "Stand still," she ordered again, "I want to make this as quick as I can."
Rachel stared up at her, arm still pulled closer to her chest even with Santana's hand wrapped around it. Her eyebrows were drawn together, and her lips were slightly open in surprise or for the beginning of a protest. Thank god, Santana thought when the small girl finally relaxed a small degree without speaking. Miracles, miracles.
Santana willfully avoided thinking about what she was doing when she took her other hand and placed it onto Rachel's waist. Tightening her grip a little, she began feeling out the fabric there as well. Fuck. Rachel was tiny and in shape. No, fuck that! The only important thing was her sweater was too big. This, feeling Treasure Trail? This was all kinds of wrong!
As close as they were again, Rachel still ended up squeaking and shifting forward, bringing herself even closer to Santana. Ticklish? Rachel freaking Berry was ticklish? Oh, god damn hallelujah, how could she use this information?
"Santana," Rachel said in a tight voice, "What are you accomplishing?"
Dropping her hand from Rachel's arm, Santana looked down and arched an eyebrow, "Just what I thought. Your sweater has gots to go." Curling her fingers under the bottom of the purple eyesore, Santana yanked it up Rachel's side. Expecting to see a shirt or camisole or one of the stupid training bras the smaller girl had mentioned before, tan skin and fit abs met her instead.
What the… Hot sweet damn!
Eyes widening before she could stop them, Santana snapped her gaze up to meet Rachel's.
Shoving down her sweater and jumping back from Santana as fast as she could, Rachel's face was quickly becoming red. Mouth flapping open, she took a couple of deep breaths, then crossed her arms. "I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Santana. I am sure you were not trying to molest me." Though they were statements, they came out as questions.
Still a little off kilter and trying to blink away the image seared into her brain, Santana brought her familiar sneer back up to her face. "Oh, Berry, as if. Like you have anything I'd like to see." Oh fuck, what did the rest of her stomach look like? "And it's your fault, you know. If you had just fuckin' answered my question, I wouldn't have been forced to look at you." No. No. No no no. There was nothing about the little midget spore that was even close to attractive!
…Oh god. It was disturbing that she even had to think about that. No. Ew. Ew. Ew!
To save her sanity, Santana shoved her thoughts away.
"Uhh… Hey." Doug cleared his throat, coming up behind the two of them.
…Damn. Mentally wincing, Santana gave Rachel one more arrogant glare and turned around. With an incredibly disappointed expression on his face, Doug gave what looked like a small extra theatre issued shirt to Rachel. "Here," he managed a smile at her, "Your sweater's too loose for Santana and me to hold onto you while we're doing this."
Light dawned on Rachel's face, and she turned her own glare onto Santana, who just scoffed and shook her head. Not her fault the dwarf was so fricken' clueless!
Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Doug then focused on Santana. "Can I talk to you?" he motioned his head towards the table she and he had pushed aside earlier.
"No, that's okay." Rachel interrupted, drawing both of their attention, "You two stay here. I'll just… Go change." Giving Doug a fleeting smile and ignoring Santana outright, Rachel left the room. As soon the door closed behind her, Doug drew in a deep breath.
Before he could speak, Santana raised a hand. "I know."
"Know what? Because I don't think you do."
"Excuse me?" Taken aback, Santana frowned. True, she'd said that just to deflect the conversation, but she hadn't expected her friend to deflect it back. Putting most of her weight onto one foot, she resisted the urge to cross her arms, slipping her thumbs into her jeans pockets instead.
Doug nodded. "San." He dropped his head, an exasperated curl to his lips, "Just tone down your bitchitude while she's helping, okay? You should have heard her - she's excited and happy to help. No matter your personal feelings…" At this, he eyed Santana warily, making her frown deepen, "It's better than just sitting around and being incredibly bored, isn't it? We're stuck together. Why not do something with that?"
Dammit, Dougie! He just didn't - wouldn't understand!
The door opened behind her, and Santana tilted her head around to see Rachel slip back inside. Smoothing down the form fitted blue t-shirt that had Avatar splashed across it that she was now wearing, the action making Santana's eyes draw down while she remembered the short glimpse she'd seen of what was underneath, Rachel gave the two of them a shy smile. "Well?" she asked, still somewhat ignoring Santana, "Should we get started?"
Santana narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she bit out, tossing her hair and cracking her knuckles, "Let's do this shit."
Doug snorted, shaking his head again, but grinned at the two girls excitedly, "Sounds good! Rachel. San. Let's get to it!"
Rachel smiled broadly back at him, starting to rock back and forth on her toes, "So what's first?"
Finding her annoying as all hell, Santana groaned internally. Damn damn damn. This was gonna suck.