fic: Playing With Fire
Title: Playing With Fire
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Sue, OFC, Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rachel and Santana attempt another prank together.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,850
Spoilers: None.
A/N: Follows Berry verses Lopez. This is for ad_astra4love who requested pyrotechnics. I know very little about proper use and execution, just the bare minimum I learned in school. So I don't claim that any of this is accurate. All info taken from Indoor Pyrotechnics.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
Flow Charts Are Never Wrong | Revelations and Confrontations | Cuffed | Physics and Golf | The Student Becomes the Master | Breaking Into School is Easy to Do | Keeping Up Appearances | Games People Play | Ink and Gossip | Like That Movie, Open Water | Berry verses Lopez
When Santana arrives at Rachel's for their usual Saturday together, she's dragged eagerly into the living room. Naturally, Santana's first thought is that they're finally going to do it somewhere besides Rachel's bedroom. She's severely disappointed when she notices the projector and a screen.
That means she's in for another PowerPoint presentation, which Santana can admit hasn’t happened in a while, but she'd really like to keep it that way.
She's slightly bolstered when a cup of coffee is set in front of her.
"Okay," Rachel begins. "Now that I know that you're almost as excellent as me at pranks, I thought a presentation is in order."
Santana can only stare at her girlfriend who is currently standing next to the screen with a small remote and a laser pointer.
Wait a minute. "What do you mean, almost?"
Rachel just smiles and clicks her remote.
Pulling the Ultimate Prank: A Berry/Lopez Production, it reads.
Santana barely holds back her laughter. "You are so ridiculous."
"I certainly am not," Rachel huffs. "I just believe in planning and preparation."
"Obviously."
"Does that mean you're not up for another dual prank?"
"Of course I am," Santana replies. "I just don't understand why this has to be such a big production."
"Because," Rachel says. "While the last one we did was lovely, I thought it'd be more fulfilling as a couple to come up with one together. I have some starting ideas and I was hoping this could be a brainstorming session."
"Fine." Santana drinks some coffee and stretches out on the couch.
"Now I have several ideas that could be used as excellent starting points," Rachel begins.
"We should totally do some pyro," Santana suggests.
"Pyrotechnics are extremely dangerous, Santana," Rachel tells her. "They require careful planning and adherence to safety regulations."
"Which you would cover."
"Additionally, the optimal place to pull off such a prank would be in front of the whole school. And I'm not interrupting a glee performance for such a thing."
"Or a pep rally," Santana says. "Coach has us preparing for the next one, which is in two weeks."
"Wouldn’t Coach Sylvester skin us both alive for interrupting her show?"
"Probably," Santana admits. "Unless the prank somehow appeases her."
"How?"
"I'm thinking."
"Well you can think while I continue my presentation," Rachel replies. She clicks the remote and continues.
Santana tunes her out. There's no way she can brainstorm and listen to Rachel's rambling presentation. She hopes there isn't going to be a quiz. Knowing Rachel, there might be.
"I've got it," Santana exclaims.
"You do?"
"We do some pyro, maybe those things that burst in the air. And then drop a banner down obscenely sucking up to the Coach. That way it'll appease her and amuse everyone else."
Rachel mulls it over for a moment. "That sounds doable."
"Of course it does."
"Excellent. We just need to figure out what exactly we want to set off and when."
"That shouldn't be too hard," Santana replies.
"The best way to figure everything out is if I know the routine," Rachel says.
Sighing, Santana stands and slowly goes through the routine while Rachel watches, taking notes and asking questions.
…
Once Rachel has a basic understanding of the routine Coach Sylvester has planned, they discuss the best time to attempt it.
"Maybe we should figure out what we want to do first," Santana suggests. "That way, we'll know what kind of space we need. And then we'll know when to do it."
"Excellent idea, San," Rachel says. "I think we should start with a smoke screen. Give a little build up. And the bursts of sparks."
"Yeah. We start with just one and then build up."
They spend the rest of the afternoon planning. They keep it relatively simple, but Rachel knows it's still going to be a lot of effort to get everything finished in time. She knows the biggest challenge is where to find the fireworks. Thankfully, Santana says she'll handle that part.
Rachel's job is planning, of course. She has to figure out where and how everything's going to be set up. This is one instance that her meticulous planning skills might work against her. If she and Santana are going to continue pulling pranks together, she refuses to be the one that's always planning it.
…
The biggest hurdle Rachel sees is detonation. She does as much research as she can, but she'd really like an expert opinion. Unfortunately, she doesn't know whom that might be. Rachel figures Artie would be the best source. She tries to find him alone to talk.
Rachel finally manages to track Artie down Tuesday and coerces him into having lunch with her in the choir room. As the glee tech guru, Rachel knows she has to at least get his opinion. She also realizes she should be more concerned about Artie figuring things out, but she's already let him in on previous capers with no negative results. Rachel feels she can trust him here.
Besides, no one will ever have solid proof that it's her behind it all. Even Santana, Noah and Brittany don't, except for the ones they participated in. They only have her word. She plans on keeping it that way.
"You sound like you know what you're doing," Artie tells her. "I'm not sure why you need me."
"Because I wanted to make sure with an expert," Rachel replies. "I find that's the safest when dealing with these sorts of things."
"I wouldn't call myself an expert," Artie says.
"You possess a great deal of knowledge," Rachel tells him. "What else would you call yourself?"
"Thanks, Rach," Artie replies. "It's cool that my nerdiness can come in handy sometimes. Do I even want to know why you're asking?"
"It's probably better that you don't."
The choir room door then swings open and Noah swaggers in.
"Noah, Artie and I are in the middle of something."
"But I need your planning skills, bro," Noah says as he slumps into the chair next to Rachel.
Rachel sighs. "Why?"
"Stacey Hudson."
"Noah, really?"
"She's the last one, Rach."
"The last one what?" Artie asks.
"She's the last upperclassman Cheerio that I haven't slept with. If she does, I'll have a perfect score."
Artie chokes on his soda. "Seriously?" he stammers.
"Everyone needs goals, Artie, my man."
"Yeah, well it'd be nice if the wealth could be spread around," Artie mutters.
…
Thanks to Artie, Rachel feels confident about her remote detonations. It's just a matter of proper set up and everything should work just fine. Next Friday is going to be excellent.
Now it's just a matter of waiting. Rachel thinks the anticipation might get to her before Coach Sylvester does.
…
"What are you so hyper about?" Puck asks Rachel as she climbs into his truck.
Instead of spending bro night by themselves, Puck and Rachel are going to Stacey Hudson's, no relation to Finn. Her parents are out of town and so of course she's having a party to celebrate.
Normally, Puck wouldn't care, but since she's the key to his perfect score, he has to try. Maybe this party will be the push she needs.
"I just enjoy large social gatherings with my peers," Rachel tells him.
"You're up to something."
"I do have specific plans for the evening, yes," Rachel replies. "Don't fret, you'll enjoy them."
"Stop being so damn cryptic."
"I'm going to be your wingman tonight."
"Ah, jeez, Berry, you're totally going to cock block me."
"I have no intention of doing such a thing," Rachel says. "I merely plan on making it easier for you to quote unquote score."
Puck groans. "Rach, I appreciate the thought. Really I do. But a lot of girls at McKinley find you…unwelcome."
Rachel huffs. "Perhaps. But this is the last hurdle or brodomhood we have yet to conquer. And I sorely dislike things being unfinished."
"Brodomhood?"
Rachel sighs. "Fine. If it doesn't work out, I will owe you one."
"Well, all right."
"Nothing that involves a threesome with Santana or myself. Or watching, taping or listening."
"I know," Puck says. "Spoilsport."
…
The party is well underway when they arrive. Rachel wonders if Santana and Brittany are around. She forgot to ask if they pair were attending tonight, though Rachel figures they're around somewhere. Brittany would never pass up a chance to dance.
And Rachel's secure enough in her relationship to admit that seeing Britt and Santana dancing together is hot as hell.
In the kitchen she watches Noah slam a beer before accepting another and just shakes her head. Rachel manages to find a bottle of water in the fridge and begins wandering.
She's still not exactly welcome at these sort of events, but everyone's had a few drinks and they seem to care less. Every once in a while the apathy of youth has its advantages.
Rachel sees a blonde head on the dance floor and pushes through the crowd to make sure it's Brittany.
It is and she waves at Rachel, beckoning her closer.
"Hi Rachel!"
"Hey, Britt."
"S's around somewhere," Brittany tells her. "Probably trying to out drink the hockey team."
"That sounds about right," Rachel replies. "Who's driving you guys home?"
"You are, silly," Brittany says. "S said you wouldn't mind."
"I don't. Try not to drink too much, though. Okay?"
"Okay."
Rachel tries to find a place to sit. If Britt's on the dance floor and Santana is drinking the jocks under the table, that means the two Cheerios will be grinding on the dance floor all too soon. She doesn't want to miss it. She wonders if that makes her strange.
The couch clears and Rachel quickly claims a spot. She knows all too soon she'll be pushing away an over amorous couple, but she can hold her own. Rachel watches the dancers, waiting for Santana to join Britt on the dance floor.
Just then Stacey Hudson flops down on the couch next to her. A football player is just behind her.
"I need a beer," the hostess yells over the music.
The boy nods and disappears back into the crowd.
"I'm not sure if you're aware of this," Rachel says, leaning slightly into Stacey. "But Roger has Gonorrhea."
"How the hell do you know that, Man Hands?"
"People ignore me most of the time," Rachel tells her. "And so they say things around me that they probably shouldn't."
"He really has the clap?"
"He does indeed."
Roger returns a moment later with a beer, which Stacey accepts. He then offers her his hand, but she declines. He tries again, but she forcefully pushes him away.
"Bitch." Rachel hears him say over the music as he walks away.
…
Rachel and Stacey sit next to each other on the couch. Stacey drinks her beer while Rachel sips her water and watches Brittany dance.
Three and a half songs after Roger left in a huff, another football player approaches Stacey and offers to get her another beer. Stacey flirts and accepts and the guy goes off in search of alcohol.
"You know he got his last girlfriend pregnant, right?" Rachel asks.
"Seriously?"
Rachel nods. "He did. And then he made her get an abortion."
"Jesus," Stacey mutters.
"May I make a recommendation?"
"I guess," Stacey says.
"If you're simply looking for a hook up, I'd recommend Puck."
"You have to say that."
"I suppose that's true," Rachel allows. "But he's very good."
"How would you know?" Stacey sneers. "Your slutbag girlfriend tell you that?"
Rachel chooses, for the moment, to ignore the insult to Santana. "Personal experience."
"For reals?"
"Plus," Rachel continues. "Pregnancy is definitely not an issue with him anymore."
"You really had sex with Puckerman?"
"He definitely doesn't have an STD."
"I don't know."
"Trust me on this," Rachel says, beckoning her bro over.
"Hey, Stace," Noah says. "Nice party."
"How drunk are you Puckerman?"
"Enough."
"Puckerman junior still work?"
"Always."
"Good." Stacey stands and grabs his hand. "Come with me." She drags him up the stairs.
Rachel manages to receive a thumbs up from Noah before he disappears.
…
Rachel is not treated to the vision of Santana and Brittany grinding on the dance floor, but doesn't completely mind. She's currently driving them both back to her place in Santana's car, knowing Noah can find his own way home or to her house, which ever he prefers.
Right now, both Cheerios are ridiculously drunk and handsy. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, except it's quite distracting while driving. No matter how many times Rachel pushes Santana away, her girlfriend continues to stick her hand under Rachel's shirt and pinch her nipples.
"Santana, for the last time, stop it," Rachel says. "It's very difficult to drive while you do that."
"Then stop driving," Santana tells her. "Or maybe don't wear such easy access clothing."
"It's not her fault," Brittany adds. "You're just really hot, Rachy. We like to touch you."
"Thank you Brittany. That's very flattering. But if you two could just wait five more minutes, we'll be back at my house and up in my room."
"You're not fun," Brittany pouts.
"So I've been told," Rachel mutters.
…
Saturday morning, Rachel wakes up to a text message from Noah.
Score! Thax bro. Owe u.
Rachel just shakes her head. She's glad she performed adequately as a wingman last night. It really is the last part of being a bro that she had yet to perform. And as a bonus, Noah will hopefully stop whining about it.
"Go back to sleep, babe," Santana mutters.
Rachel glances at her alarm. It is rather early for a Saturday; especially considering how late she fell asleep. She places her phone back on her nightstand and curls up back under the warm cocoon of covers.
"The ducks are making too much noise," Brittany murmurs.
"Shhh, Britt," Rachel says. "It's just a dream."
…
Monday morning, Stacey Hudson can't get her locker open. No matter how many times she and other people try. Finally, a janitor shows up with a massive ring of keys. The key works fine, but the locker still won't open. Upon further examination, the janitor finds that the door's been glued shut. It looks like glue's been applied around the entire door.
Stacey is forced to carry all her possessions. Frustrated, she goes to class, leaving the janitor to begin trying to remove the glue.
…
That afternoon after Cheerios practice, Stacey Hudson walks out to the parking lot and finds that all the air has been let out her car's tires. She can't tell if they're punctured or not, so she calls AAA weeping.
…
Tuesday during first period, Stacey receives a text message from an unknown. Opening it reveals the most offensive thing she's ever read. She quickly deletes it and puts her phone away.
Except the message keeps coming. Stacey deletes it and another one arrives. She deletes it and yet another one arrives.
Once the bell rings, it stops.
Until second period. This time it's even worse. She thought the last one made her want to throw up. This one definitely does.
It continues throughout the day. Every period, excluding lunch, she receives a text from Unknown. And each time it's absolutely disgusting. Thankfully, they don't necessarily get worse, but they're still revolting and fairly offensive. She can't even imagine where the words or pictures are coming from. She probably doesn't want to know.
She tries block it, but it's difficult to block when she doesn’t have a number to enter. Also, it's tough trying to be discrete with her cell phone in class. Teachers are on the look out for such thing.
Stacey just ignores it. She only gets one per class as long as she doesn't delete it. She stops looking after third period, because she's almost afraid to look. She already feels like she needs to scrub her brain out with bleach. She'd turn off her phone, but is afraid of what will happen while it's off.
…
Wednesday there is a large crowd around Stacey Hudson's locker. Apprehensive, she pushes her way through the throngs of people. And then she sees it. In thick, bright red lettering is, Stacey Hudson is a sinner and a whore written on her locker.
Not wanting to deal with it, she opens her locker and pulls out the necessary books. However, instead of going to class, she heads to Coach Sylvester's office to demand she find someone to clean it off.
…
Rachel is eating lunch in the choir room, wanting some peace in quiet when Santana storms in.
"What the hell is going on with Stacey Hudson?" she demands.
"I wouldn't know," Rachel replies. "You and Britt are the only Cheerios that talk to me."
"Then how do you know who she is?" Santana asks.
"Noah's been ogling her for weeks now."
"So you have no idea who glued her locker shut or let the air out of her tires or wrote in permanent marker on her locker?"
"Oh that?" Rachel says. "I may know something about that."
"Why?"
"Because she called you a slut," Rachel replies. "To my face. That just isn't allowed."
"You're so fucking awesome," Santana says, pulling Rachel towards her for a kiss. When they finally break apart, they're both panting. "I'm no saint, though, Rach," Santana continues. "I appreciate the sentiment, but she's not completely off base."
"Noah is a massive man whore and no one looks down on him for it," Rachel points out. "Besides, do not call my girlfriend a slut to my face and not expect retaliation. I don't care if you slept with every fucking idiot in this school. It cannot be tolerated."
"It's so ridiculous that you're defending my honor," Santana says. "But thanks. That might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."
"I'd do that and more," Rachel tells her.
…
Thursday morning, Stacey approaches her locker with a great deal of apprehension. She almost doesn't want to because she knows the outcome won't be good. She prays that whoever is doing this will have gotten bored by now.
Her locker is still calling her a sinner and a whore, though it has faded a bit. Carefully, she opens it.
And is then hit with a stream of cherry slushie. It continues for a full minute until Stacey's entire front is covered in sugary ice. She can't help it. She grabs her books, slams the door shut and runs to the bathroom, crying.
…
Thinking it was a one time thing, Stacey returns to her locker during lunch to switch out her books. She is, sadly, mistaken. Once again when she opens her locker a stream of cherry slushie hits her square in the face and continues until it is dripping everywhere. She grabs what she needs and runs to the bathroom.
Afterwards, she goes to Coach Sylvester again to complain. This time Coach tells her to see Figgins, she's sick of complaints.
Thankfully the principal has a janitor study and dismantle it.
…
It's Thursday night and it's finally the night. Santana is staying over and the two of them are going to sneak into McKinley and set everything up. It's the most intricate thing Rachel's ever pulled off and she's slightly nervous because nothing can go wrong.
"Have I ever told you how hot you are in jeans?" Santana asks.
Rachel's in her usual black jeans, converse and black hoodie. She smirks. "It's come up once or twice."
"If we weren't on a schedule, I'd so be hitting that."
"You're so romantic," Rachel says, exiting her bedroom.
"It's a compliment, babe," Santana calls after her as she trails Rachel down the stairs.
"Are you sure you have everything?" Rachel asks.
"Positive. I double checked the list you gave me. Twice."
"You swear?"
"Yeah. Because I knew if I didn't, you'd rant at me for like an hour."
"Ha! Try two."
…
At the school, they quickly grab everything they need from Santana's trunk.
"A Radio Flyer, Rach?" Santana whispers as they try to stealth across the parking lot.
"It's easier than carrying everything," Rachel replies. "And making two trips is out of the question."
"But it's a little red wagon."
"I didn't hear you coming up with any suggestions."
Rachel makes quick work of the lock on the gym doors and they hustle inside.
They both have specific jobs to do and so they split up. There's plenty of things that need to be done both separately and together, but Rachel's planning is such all the two person things are to be done at the end.
They work in mostly quiet. Rachel is constantly singing; depending on the song, the volume changes. Once in a while Santana finds herself singing along, usually if it's a song they've performed in glee. It does seem to make the work go faster.
…
Three hours later, they're done and exhausted. Silently, except for Rachel's humming, they pick everything and put it in the wagon. Rachel double checks that all evidence of their presence has been eliminated while Santana stares at Rachel's ass in those jeans.
They exit and the door locks behind them. They quickly put things into the trunk and speed off.
Back at the Berrys', they leave everything in Santana's car. They're both too tired to deal with things.
"Thank god, Coach doesn't believe in practicing the day of," Santana says as they head up to Rachel's room. "I can sleep in a little."
Santana quickly strips and watches Rachel peel her jeans off. "You're not getting up any earlier than we have to, either."
"Fine," Rachel says, stepping out of her jeans. "But we do need to take five minutes in the morning to take those things out of your trunk."
"Why?" Santana whines.
"Because I'm already under suspicion with these pranks. And on the off chance they begin to use their brains and decide to search for evidence, I'd like it not be so easy to find."
"Why would they check my car?"
"Because you're my girlfriend," Rachel replies. "And Ms. Badass, you've been fairly vocal lately about wanting to pull something."
"No one's going to think it's me," Santana says. "No one in their right mind would interrupt the Coach's routine."
"It was your idea," Rachel points out.
"Yeah, I know," Santana tells her. "But I'm dating you, so who said I was in my right mind."
Santana's answer is a pillow to the face.
…
The next morning, Rachel can practically feel the giddiness radiating off Santana. She doesn't comment because she knows her girlfriend will just scoff at such an accusation. She's excited too; this is the biggest and most elaborate prank she's attempted. If anything goes wrong her reputation will be ruined, well the anonymous prankster's reputation will be ruined, but it's the same thing.
Rachel receives a hot and heavy kiss before Santana is dragged away by a giggling Brittany. She waves at the blonde and makes her way to her locker.
…
When the bell rings for the pep rally, Rachel's body is humming with anticipation. Outwardly, she knows she appears calm, almost bored. She follows everyone else into the gym and takes a seat. She tries to discretely check everything out, but it's difficult with the multitude of things hanging off the ceiling.
Sitting in the audience, Rachel tries to wait patiently as Figgins talks about school spirit and other things that sound good in theory, but no one practices.
Finally it's time for the Cheerios' performance. Everyone claps as they get into position while Rachel is ready with the remote. The music begins and Rachel gives the performance her utmost attention, waiting for just the right moment.
When everyone's crouched together near the end, Rachel hits the first button. Smoke falls and surrounds them.
The audience assumes this is part of the performance, but Rachel's fairly certain the Cheerios are confused. She figures they're trying to carry on, since Sue wouldn’t have it any other way.
Next is a waterfall of sparks, falling through the smoke. Some people ooh and aw over it, but for most, the confusion is beginning.
The banner falls next. It unrolls as Saxons, or a spinning pyrotechnic effect, begins. The confusion becomes real when people read the two sided banner. It's difficult to read for a moment and then a spotlight hits it.
The truly wise worship Sue Sylvester. Convert and rejoice.
Then there are air bursts of more fireworks around the banner.
And finally the smoke clears and the lights rise. It's a moment of silence and then complete chaos.
Figgins snatches Coach Sylvester's bullhorn from her. "Everyone keep calm and stay seated!"
Everyone watches as Figgins forcefully converses with Coach Sylvester. After a few moments, he holds up the bullhorn again. "You're all dismissed early," he tells them.
A cheer erupts as everyone streams out of the gym.
…
"You are my hero," Puck says as he appears by Rachel's locker. "That was fucking epic."
"Keep it down, Noah," Rachel tells him. "Thank you, but it wasn't just me."
"Is someone else trying to take my place?" Puck asks. "That's not fair. Warn a guy first, Rach."
"Whoa there, bro," Rachel says. "I meant Santana."
"Oh. I guess that's okay then."
"Hey babe," Santana says appearing out of nowhere.
"Coach let you go already?" Puck asks.
"She had to investigate," Brittany says.
"What the hell was that?" Kurt asks as he strolls up.
"An unsuccessful pep rally."
"Or a very successful one," Puck says. "Depending on how you look at it."
"Coach is on a rampage," Kurt continues. "Whoever did it now has to face the wrath of Coach Sylvester."
"It was complimentary," Rachel points out.
"Yeah, I noticed," Kurt replies. "That was the oddest part to me, actually."
"Maybe she'll go easy on whoever because of that," Brittany says.
"Maybe," Kurt shrugs. "But I won't be holding my breath."
"Why would you hold your breath?" Brittany asks.
"It's an expression, B."
"Oh."
…
Since school let out early, Santana and Rachel decide to spend the afternoon together, celebrating a successful prank.
Walking towards Santana's car, they hear a scream of outrage.
"What now?" Santana grouses.
"Don't worry about it."
"You're not curious?"
"No. I am not."
"What did you do?" Santana asks.
"I merely finished off my week with a final message to that bitch," Rachel replies.
"If you're not going to tell me, I'm going to have to go check it out myself."
"Fine. She may have left her window open a crack. And I may have filled her car with grape slushie."
"Holy shit."
"I had some extra left over from yesterday's experiment," Rachel remarks causally.
"You're a diabolical bitch," Santana says, sounding impressed.
"I love you too."
…
Monday morning Rachel is greeted at her locker by Becky.
"Coach would like to see you."
Rachel shrugs. She knew it would happen eventually, might as well get it over with. She follows Becky to Coach Sylvester's office. Becky knocks once and then opens the door. She ushers Rachel in and closes the door behind her.
"Have a seat Berry," Coach says.
Rachel does so and waits.
"I know it was you, Berry," Coach Sylvester begins. "I was almost certain the minute it all began. But once it was finished, it was obvious. Don't bother denying it; because I won't buy it. No one else would have the audacity. I could ask you why you did it, but I already know the answer. Because you could. You saw an opportunity and seized it. That is a sentiment I can relate to."
"Coach, I--"
Coach Sylvester holds up her hand. "I don't want to hear it Berry. I'm letting it go this time. But the next time, you may want to flee the country, because I will come after you and it won't be pretty."
"Thank you, Coach."
"That doesn't mean you won't be doing penance, though."
…
"How mad was Coach?" Santana asks as Rachel exits Coach Sylvester's office.
"About what I expected," Rachel replies. "I don't have to polish all her trophies. But I do have to wipe down all the cases."
"That sucks, babe," Santana says. "And me?
"You got off easy," Rachel tells her. "Apparently, I'm a bad influence."
Santana chuckles. "She's probably just going to make me run a hundred laps all week during practice."
"Good," Rachel says. "You've been looking a little flabby lately."
This earns her a punch in the arm.
"Is that any way to treat your delicate girlfriend?"
"Delicate? Ha!" Santana scoffs. "If you're delicate, then I'm a virgin."
"You can't use that every time, you know?" Rachel counters. "It's not fair."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Berry. Life isn't fair. You know that."
"You're just jealous that Coach Sylvester likes me better," Rachel says.
"You wish."
"I know."
"You do not get to be Coach's favorite," Santana says. "You're not even a Cheerio."
"Rachel Berry strikes again," Rachel smirks. She kisses Santana on the cheek and skips down the hall towards her first class.
Santana can only watch with an amused grin on her face. Her girlfriend is so weird.
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany, Sue, OFC, Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rachel and Santana attempt another prank together.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,850
Spoilers: None.
A/N: Follows Berry verses Lopez. This is for ad_astra4love who requested pyrotechnics. I know very little about proper use and execution, just the bare minimum I learned in school. So I don't claim that any of this is accurate. All info taken from Indoor Pyrotechnics.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
Flow Charts Are Never Wrong | Revelations and Confrontations | Cuffed | Physics and Golf | The Student Becomes the Master | Breaking Into School is Easy to Do | Keeping Up Appearances | Games People Play | Ink and Gossip | Like That Movie, Open Water | Berry verses Lopez
When Santana arrives at Rachel's for their usual Saturday together, she's dragged eagerly into the living room. Naturally, Santana's first thought is that they're finally going to do it somewhere besides Rachel's bedroom. She's severely disappointed when she notices the projector and a screen.
That means she's in for another PowerPoint presentation, which Santana can admit hasn’t happened in a while, but she'd really like to keep it that way.
She's slightly bolstered when a cup of coffee is set in front of her.
"Okay," Rachel begins. "Now that I know that you're almost as excellent as me at pranks, I thought a presentation is in order."
Santana can only stare at her girlfriend who is currently standing next to the screen with a small remote and a laser pointer.
Wait a minute. "What do you mean, almost?"
Rachel just smiles and clicks her remote.
Pulling the Ultimate Prank: A Berry/Lopez Production, it reads.
Santana barely holds back her laughter. "You are so ridiculous."
"I certainly am not," Rachel huffs. "I just believe in planning and preparation."
"Obviously."
"Does that mean you're not up for another dual prank?"
"Of course I am," Santana replies. "I just don't understand why this has to be such a big production."
"Because," Rachel says. "While the last one we did was lovely, I thought it'd be more fulfilling as a couple to come up with one together. I have some starting ideas and I was hoping this could be a brainstorming session."
"Fine." Santana drinks some coffee and stretches out on the couch.
"Now I have several ideas that could be used as excellent starting points," Rachel begins.
"We should totally do some pyro," Santana suggests.
"Pyrotechnics are extremely dangerous, Santana," Rachel tells her. "They require careful planning and adherence to safety regulations."
"Which you would cover."
"Additionally, the optimal place to pull off such a prank would be in front of the whole school. And I'm not interrupting a glee performance for such a thing."
"Or a pep rally," Santana says. "Coach has us preparing for the next one, which is in two weeks."
"Wouldn’t Coach Sylvester skin us both alive for interrupting her show?"
"Probably," Santana admits. "Unless the prank somehow appeases her."
"How?"
"I'm thinking."
"Well you can think while I continue my presentation," Rachel replies. She clicks the remote and continues.
Santana tunes her out. There's no way she can brainstorm and listen to Rachel's rambling presentation. She hopes there isn't going to be a quiz. Knowing Rachel, there might be.
"I've got it," Santana exclaims.
"You do?"
"We do some pyro, maybe those things that burst in the air. And then drop a banner down obscenely sucking up to the Coach. That way it'll appease her and amuse everyone else."
Rachel mulls it over for a moment. "That sounds doable."
"Of course it does."
"Excellent. We just need to figure out what exactly we want to set off and when."
"That shouldn't be too hard," Santana replies.
"The best way to figure everything out is if I know the routine," Rachel says.
Sighing, Santana stands and slowly goes through the routine while Rachel watches, taking notes and asking questions.
…
Once Rachel has a basic understanding of the routine Coach Sylvester has planned, they discuss the best time to attempt it.
"Maybe we should figure out what we want to do first," Santana suggests. "That way, we'll know what kind of space we need. And then we'll know when to do it."
"Excellent idea, San," Rachel says. "I think we should start with a smoke screen. Give a little build up. And the bursts of sparks."
"Yeah. We start with just one and then build up."
They spend the rest of the afternoon planning. They keep it relatively simple, but Rachel knows it's still going to be a lot of effort to get everything finished in time. She knows the biggest challenge is where to find the fireworks. Thankfully, Santana says she'll handle that part.
Rachel's job is planning, of course. She has to figure out where and how everything's going to be set up. This is one instance that her meticulous planning skills might work against her. If she and Santana are going to continue pulling pranks together, she refuses to be the one that's always planning it.
…
The biggest hurdle Rachel sees is detonation. She does as much research as she can, but she'd really like an expert opinion. Unfortunately, she doesn't know whom that might be. Rachel figures Artie would be the best source. She tries to find him alone to talk.
Rachel finally manages to track Artie down Tuesday and coerces him into having lunch with her in the choir room. As the glee tech guru, Rachel knows she has to at least get his opinion. She also realizes she should be more concerned about Artie figuring things out, but she's already let him in on previous capers with no negative results. Rachel feels she can trust him here.
Besides, no one will ever have solid proof that it's her behind it all. Even Santana, Noah and Brittany don't, except for the ones they participated in. They only have her word. She plans on keeping it that way.
"You sound like you know what you're doing," Artie tells her. "I'm not sure why you need me."
"Because I wanted to make sure with an expert," Rachel replies. "I find that's the safest when dealing with these sorts of things."
"I wouldn't call myself an expert," Artie says.
"You possess a great deal of knowledge," Rachel tells him. "What else would you call yourself?"
"Thanks, Rach," Artie replies. "It's cool that my nerdiness can come in handy sometimes. Do I even want to know why you're asking?"
"It's probably better that you don't."
The choir room door then swings open and Noah swaggers in.
"Noah, Artie and I are in the middle of something."
"But I need your planning skills, bro," Noah says as he slumps into the chair next to Rachel.
Rachel sighs. "Why?"
"Stacey Hudson."
"Noah, really?"
"She's the last one, Rach."
"The last one what?" Artie asks.
"She's the last upperclassman Cheerio that I haven't slept with. If she does, I'll have a perfect score."
Artie chokes on his soda. "Seriously?" he stammers.
"Everyone needs goals, Artie, my man."
"Yeah, well it'd be nice if the wealth could be spread around," Artie mutters.
…
Thanks to Artie, Rachel feels confident about her remote detonations. It's just a matter of proper set up and everything should work just fine. Next Friday is going to be excellent.
Now it's just a matter of waiting. Rachel thinks the anticipation might get to her before Coach Sylvester does.
…
"What are you so hyper about?" Puck asks Rachel as she climbs into his truck.
Instead of spending bro night by themselves, Puck and Rachel are going to Stacey Hudson's, no relation to Finn. Her parents are out of town and so of course she's having a party to celebrate.
Normally, Puck wouldn't care, but since she's the key to his perfect score, he has to try. Maybe this party will be the push she needs.
"I just enjoy large social gatherings with my peers," Rachel tells him.
"You're up to something."
"I do have specific plans for the evening, yes," Rachel replies. "Don't fret, you'll enjoy them."
"Stop being so damn cryptic."
"I'm going to be your wingman tonight."
"Ah, jeez, Berry, you're totally going to cock block me."
"I have no intention of doing such a thing," Rachel says. "I merely plan on making it easier for you to quote unquote score."
Puck groans. "Rach, I appreciate the thought. Really I do. But a lot of girls at McKinley find you…unwelcome."
Rachel huffs. "Perhaps. But this is the last hurdle or brodomhood we have yet to conquer. And I sorely dislike things being unfinished."
"Brodomhood?"
Rachel sighs. "Fine. If it doesn't work out, I will owe you one."
"Well, all right."
"Nothing that involves a threesome with Santana or myself. Or watching, taping or listening."
"I know," Puck says. "Spoilsport."
…
The party is well underway when they arrive. Rachel wonders if Santana and Brittany are around. She forgot to ask if they pair were attending tonight, though Rachel figures they're around somewhere. Brittany would never pass up a chance to dance.
And Rachel's secure enough in her relationship to admit that seeing Britt and Santana dancing together is hot as hell.
In the kitchen she watches Noah slam a beer before accepting another and just shakes her head. Rachel manages to find a bottle of water in the fridge and begins wandering.
She's still not exactly welcome at these sort of events, but everyone's had a few drinks and they seem to care less. Every once in a while the apathy of youth has its advantages.
Rachel sees a blonde head on the dance floor and pushes through the crowd to make sure it's Brittany.
It is and she waves at Rachel, beckoning her closer.
"Hi Rachel!"
"Hey, Britt."
"S's around somewhere," Brittany tells her. "Probably trying to out drink the hockey team."
"That sounds about right," Rachel replies. "Who's driving you guys home?"
"You are, silly," Brittany says. "S said you wouldn't mind."
"I don't. Try not to drink too much, though. Okay?"
"Okay."
Rachel tries to find a place to sit. If Britt's on the dance floor and Santana is drinking the jocks under the table, that means the two Cheerios will be grinding on the dance floor all too soon. She doesn't want to miss it. She wonders if that makes her strange.
The couch clears and Rachel quickly claims a spot. She knows all too soon she'll be pushing away an over amorous couple, but she can hold her own. Rachel watches the dancers, waiting for Santana to join Britt on the dance floor.
Just then Stacey Hudson flops down on the couch next to her. A football player is just behind her.
"I need a beer," the hostess yells over the music.
The boy nods and disappears back into the crowd.
"I'm not sure if you're aware of this," Rachel says, leaning slightly into Stacey. "But Roger has Gonorrhea."
"How the hell do you know that, Man Hands?"
"People ignore me most of the time," Rachel tells her. "And so they say things around me that they probably shouldn't."
"He really has the clap?"
"He does indeed."
Roger returns a moment later with a beer, which Stacey accepts. He then offers her his hand, but she declines. He tries again, but she forcefully pushes him away.
"Bitch." Rachel hears him say over the music as he walks away.
…
Rachel and Stacey sit next to each other on the couch. Stacey drinks her beer while Rachel sips her water and watches Brittany dance.
Three and a half songs after Roger left in a huff, another football player approaches Stacey and offers to get her another beer. Stacey flirts and accepts and the guy goes off in search of alcohol.
"You know he got his last girlfriend pregnant, right?" Rachel asks.
"Seriously?"
Rachel nods. "He did. And then he made her get an abortion."
"Jesus," Stacey mutters.
"May I make a recommendation?"
"I guess," Stacey says.
"If you're simply looking for a hook up, I'd recommend Puck."
"You have to say that."
"I suppose that's true," Rachel allows. "But he's very good."
"How would you know?" Stacey sneers. "Your slutbag girlfriend tell you that?"
Rachel chooses, for the moment, to ignore the insult to Santana. "Personal experience."
"For reals?"
"Plus," Rachel continues. "Pregnancy is definitely not an issue with him anymore."
"You really had sex with Puckerman?"
"He definitely doesn't have an STD."
"I don't know."
"Trust me on this," Rachel says, beckoning her bro over.
"Hey, Stace," Noah says. "Nice party."
"How drunk are you Puckerman?"
"Enough."
"Puckerman junior still work?"
"Always."
"Good." Stacey stands and grabs his hand. "Come with me." She drags him up the stairs.
Rachel manages to receive a thumbs up from Noah before he disappears.
…
Rachel is not treated to the vision of Santana and Brittany grinding on the dance floor, but doesn't completely mind. She's currently driving them both back to her place in Santana's car, knowing Noah can find his own way home or to her house, which ever he prefers.
Right now, both Cheerios are ridiculously drunk and handsy. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, except it's quite distracting while driving. No matter how many times Rachel pushes Santana away, her girlfriend continues to stick her hand under Rachel's shirt and pinch her nipples.
"Santana, for the last time, stop it," Rachel says. "It's very difficult to drive while you do that."
"Then stop driving," Santana tells her. "Or maybe don't wear such easy access clothing."
"It's not her fault," Brittany adds. "You're just really hot, Rachy. We like to touch you."
"Thank you Brittany. That's very flattering. But if you two could just wait five more minutes, we'll be back at my house and up in my room."
"You're not fun," Brittany pouts.
"So I've been told," Rachel mutters.
…
Saturday morning, Rachel wakes up to a text message from Noah.
Score! Thax bro. Owe u.
Rachel just shakes her head. She's glad she performed adequately as a wingman last night. It really is the last part of being a bro that she had yet to perform. And as a bonus, Noah will hopefully stop whining about it.
"Go back to sleep, babe," Santana mutters.
Rachel glances at her alarm. It is rather early for a Saturday; especially considering how late she fell asleep. She places her phone back on her nightstand and curls up back under the warm cocoon of covers.
"The ducks are making too much noise," Brittany murmurs.
"Shhh, Britt," Rachel says. "It's just a dream."
…
Monday morning, Stacey Hudson can't get her locker open. No matter how many times she and other people try. Finally, a janitor shows up with a massive ring of keys. The key works fine, but the locker still won't open. Upon further examination, the janitor finds that the door's been glued shut. It looks like glue's been applied around the entire door.
Stacey is forced to carry all her possessions. Frustrated, she goes to class, leaving the janitor to begin trying to remove the glue.
…
That afternoon after Cheerios practice, Stacey Hudson walks out to the parking lot and finds that all the air has been let out her car's tires. She can't tell if they're punctured or not, so she calls AAA weeping.
…
Tuesday during first period, Stacey receives a text message from an unknown. Opening it reveals the most offensive thing she's ever read. She quickly deletes it and puts her phone away.
Except the message keeps coming. Stacey deletes it and another one arrives. She deletes it and yet another one arrives.
Once the bell rings, it stops.
Until second period. This time it's even worse. She thought the last one made her want to throw up. This one definitely does.
It continues throughout the day. Every period, excluding lunch, she receives a text from Unknown. And each time it's absolutely disgusting. Thankfully, they don't necessarily get worse, but they're still revolting and fairly offensive. She can't even imagine where the words or pictures are coming from. She probably doesn't want to know.
She tries block it, but it's difficult to block when she doesn’t have a number to enter. Also, it's tough trying to be discrete with her cell phone in class. Teachers are on the look out for such thing.
Stacey just ignores it. She only gets one per class as long as she doesn't delete it. She stops looking after third period, because she's almost afraid to look. She already feels like she needs to scrub her brain out with bleach. She'd turn off her phone, but is afraid of what will happen while it's off.
…
Wednesday there is a large crowd around Stacey Hudson's locker. Apprehensive, she pushes her way through the throngs of people. And then she sees it. In thick, bright red lettering is, Stacey Hudson is a sinner and a whore written on her locker.
Not wanting to deal with it, she opens her locker and pulls out the necessary books. However, instead of going to class, she heads to Coach Sylvester's office to demand she find someone to clean it off.
…
Rachel is eating lunch in the choir room, wanting some peace in quiet when Santana storms in.
"What the hell is going on with Stacey Hudson?" she demands.
"I wouldn't know," Rachel replies. "You and Britt are the only Cheerios that talk to me."
"Then how do you know who she is?" Santana asks.
"Noah's been ogling her for weeks now."
"So you have no idea who glued her locker shut or let the air out of her tires or wrote in permanent marker on her locker?"
"Oh that?" Rachel says. "I may know something about that."
"Why?"
"Because she called you a slut," Rachel replies. "To my face. That just isn't allowed."
"You're so fucking awesome," Santana says, pulling Rachel towards her for a kiss. When they finally break apart, they're both panting. "I'm no saint, though, Rach," Santana continues. "I appreciate the sentiment, but she's not completely off base."
"Noah is a massive man whore and no one looks down on him for it," Rachel points out. "Besides, do not call my girlfriend a slut to my face and not expect retaliation. I don't care if you slept with every fucking idiot in this school. It cannot be tolerated."
"It's so ridiculous that you're defending my honor," Santana says. "But thanks. That might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."
"I'd do that and more," Rachel tells her.
…
Thursday morning, Stacey approaches her locker with a great deal of apprehension. She almost doesn't want to because she knows the outcome won't be good. She prays that whoever is doing this will have gotten bored by now.
Her locker is still calling her a sinner and a whore, though it has faded a bit. Carefully, she opens it.
And is then hit with a stream of cherry slushie. It continues for a full minute until Stacey's entire front is covered in sugary ice. She can't help it. She grabs her books, slams the door shut and runs to the bathroom, crying.
…
Thinking it was a one time thing, Stacey returns to her locker during lunch to switch out her books. She is, sadly, mistaken. Once again when she opens her locker a stream of cherry slushie hits her square in the face and continues until it is dripping everywhere. She grabs what she needs and runs to the bathroom.
Afterwards, she goes to Coach Sylvester again to complain. This time Coach tells her to see Figgins, she's sick of complaints.
Thankfully the principal has a janitor study and dismantle it.
…
It's Thursday night and it's finally the night. Santana is staying over and the two of them are going to sneak into McKinley and set everything up. It's the most intricate thing Rachel's ever pulled off and she's slightly nervous because nothing can go wrong.
"Have I ever told you how hot you are in jeans?" Santana asks.
Rachel's in her usual black jeans, converse and black hoodie. She smirks. "It's come up once or twice."
"If we weren't on a schedule, I'd so be hitting that."
"You're so romantic," Rachel says, exiting her bedroom.
"It's a compliment, babe," Santana calls after her as she trails Rachel down the stairs.
"Are you sure you have everything?" Rachel asks.
"Positive. I double checked the list you gave me. Twice."
"You swear?"
"Yeah. Because I knew if I didn't, you'd rant at me for like an hour."
"Ha! Try two."
…
At the school, they quickly grab everything they need from Santana's trunk.
"A Radio Flyer, Rach?" Santana whispers as they try to stealth across the parking lot.
"It's easier than carrying everything," Rachel replies. "And making two trips is out of the question."
"But it's a little red wagon."
"I didn't hear you coming up with any suggestions."
Rachel makes quick work of the lock on the gym doors and they hustle inside.
They both have specific jobs to do and so they split up. There's plenty of things that need to be done both separately and together, but Rachel's planning is such all the two person things are to be done at the end.
They work in mostly quiet. Rachel is constantly singing; depending on the song, the volume changes. Once in a while Santana finds herself singing along, usually if it's a song they've performed in glee. It does seem to make the work go faster.
…
Three hours later, they're done and exhausted. Silently, except for Rachel's humming, they pick everything and put it in the wagon. Rachel double checks that all evidence of their presence has been eliminated while Santana stares at Rachel's ass in those jeans.
They exit and the door locks behind them. They quickly put things into the trunk and speed off.
Back at the Berrys', they leave everything in Santana's car. They're both too tired to deal with things.
"Thank god, Coach doesn't believe in practicing the day of," Santana says as they head up to Rachel's room. "I can sleep in a little."
Santana quickly strips and watches Rachel peel her jeans off. "You're not getting up any earlier than we have to, either."
"Fine," Rachel says, stepping out of her jeans. "But we do need to take five minutes in the morning to take those things out of your trunk."
"Why?" Santana whines.
"Because I'm already under suspicion with these pranks. And on the off chance they begin to use their brains and decide to search for evidence, I'd like it not be so easy to find."
"Why would they check my car?"
"Because you're my girlfriend," Rachel replies. "And Ms. Badass, you've been fairly vocal lately about wanting to pull something."
"No one's going to think it's me," Santana says. "No one in their right mind would interrupt the Coach's routine."
"It was your idea," Rachel points out.
"Yeah, I know," Santana tells her. "But I'm dating you, so who said I was in my right mind."
Santana's answer is a pillow to the face.
…
The next morning, Rachel can practically feel the giddiness radiating off Santana. She doesn't comment because she knows her girlfriend will just scoff at such an accusation. She's excited too; this is the biggest and most elaborate prank she's attempted. If anything goes wrong her reputation will be ruined, well the anonymous prankster's reputation will be ruined, but it's the same thing.
Rachel receives a hot and heavy kiss before Santana is dragged away by a giggling Brittany. She waves at the blonde and makes her way to her locker.
…
When the bell rings for the pep rally, Rachel's body is humming with anticipation. Outwardly, she knows she appears calm, almost bored. She follows everyone else into the gym and takes a seat. She tries to discretely check everything out, but it's difficult with the multitude of things hanging off the ceiling.
Sitting in the audience, Rachel tries to wait patiently as Figgins talks about school spirit and other things that sound good in theory, but no one practices.
Finally it's time for the Cheerios' performance. Everyone claps as they get into position while Rachel is ready with the remote. The music begins and Rachel gives the performance her utmost attention, waiting for just the right moment.
When everyone's crouched together near the end, Rachel hits the first button. Smoke falls and surrounds them.
The audience assumes this is part of the performance, but Rachel's fairly certain the Cheerios are confused. She figures they're trying to carry on, since Sue wouldn’t have it any other way.
Next is a waterfall of sparks, falling through the smoke. Some people ooh and aw over it, but for most, the confusion is beginning.
The banner falls next. It unrolls as Saxons, or a spinning pyrotechnic effect, begins. The confusion becomes real when people read the two sided banner. It's difficult to read for a moment and then a spotlight hits it.
The truly wise worship Sue Sylvester. Convert and rejoice.
Then there are air bursts of more fireworks around the banner.
And finally the smoke clears and the lights rise. It's a moment of silence and then complete chaos.
Figgins snatches Coach Sylvester's bullhorn from her. "Everyone keep calm and stay seated!"
Everyone watches as Figgins forcefully converses with Coach Sylvester. After a few moments, he holds up the bullhorn again. "You're all dismissed early," he tells them.
A cheer erupts as everyone streams out of the gym.
…
"You are my hero," Puck says as he appears by Rachel's locker. "That was fucking epic."
"Keep it down, Noah," Rachel tells him. "Thank you, but it wasn't just me."
"Is someone else trying to take my place?" Puck asks. "That's not fair. Warn a guy first, Rach."
"Whoa there, bro," Rachel says. "I meant Santana."
"Oh. I guess that's okay then."
"Hey babe," Santana says appearing out of nowhere.
"Coach let you go already?" Puck asks.
"She had to investigate," Brittany says.
"What the hell was that?" Kurt asks as he strolls up.
"An unsuccessful pep rally."
"Or a very successful one," Puck says. "Depending on how you look at it."
"Coach is on a rampage," Kurt continues. "Whoever did it now has to face the wrath of Coach Sylvester."
"It was complimentary," Rachel points out.
"Yeah, I noticed," Kurt replies. "That was the oddest part to me, actually."
"Maybe she'll go easy on whoever because of that," Brittany says.
"Maybe," Kurt shrugs. "But I won't be holding my breath."
"Why would you hold your breath?" Brittany asks.
"It's an expression, B."
"Oh."
…
Since school let out early, Santana and Rachel decide to spend the afternoon together, celebrating a successful prank.
Walking towards Santana's car, they hear a scream of outrage.
"What now?" Santana grouses.
"Don't worry about it."
"You're not curious?"
"No. I am not."
"What did you do?" Santana asks.
"I merely finished off my week with a final message to that bitch," Rachel replies.
"If you're not going to tell me, I'm going to have to go check it out myself."
"Fine. She may have left her window open a crack. And I may have filled her car with grape slushie."
"Holy shit."
"I had some extra left over from yesterday's experiment," Rachel remarks causally.
"You're a diabolical bitch," Santana says, sounding impressed.
"I love you too."
…
Monday morning Rachel is greeted at her locker by Becky.
"Coach would like to see you."
Rachel shrugs. She knew it would happen eventually, might as well get it over with. She follows Becky to Coach Sylvester's office. Becky knocks once and then opens the door. She ushers Rachel in and closes the door behind her.
"Have a seat Berry," Coach says.
Rachel does so and waits.
"I know it was you, Berry," Coach Sylvester begins. "I was almost certain the minute it all began. But once it was finished, it was obvious. Don't bother denying it; because I won't buy it. No one else would have the audacity. I could ask you why you did it, but I already know the answer. Because you could. You saw an opportunity and seized it. That is a sentiment I can relate to."
"Coach, I--"
Coach Sylvester holds up her hand. "I don't want to hear it Berry. I'm letting it go this time. But the next time, you may want to flee the country, because I will come after you and it won't be pretty."
"Thank you, Coach."
"That doesn't mean you won't be doing penance, though."
…
"How mad was Coach?" Santana asks as Rachel exits Coach Sylvester's office.
"About what I expected," Rachel replies. "I don't have to polish all her trophies. But I do have to wipe down all the cases."
"That sucks, babe," Santana says. "And me?
"You got off easy," Rachel tells her. "Apparently, I'm a bad influence."
Santana chuckles. "She's probably just going to make me run a hundred laps all week during practice."
"Good," Rachel says. "You've been looking a little flabby lately."
This earns her a punch in the arm.
"Is that any way to treat your delicate girlfriend?"
"Delicate? Ha!" Santana scoffs. "If you're delicate, then I'm a virgin."
"You can't use that every time, you know?" Rachel counters. "It's not fair."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Berry. Life isn't fair. You know that."
"You're just jealous that Coach Sylvester likes me better," Rachel says.
"You wish."
"I know."
"You do not get to be Coach's favorite," Santana says. "You're not even a Cheerio."
"Rachel Berry strikes again," Rachel smirks. She kisses Santana on the cheek and skips down the hall towards her first class.
Santana can only watch with an amused grin on her face. Her girlfriend is so weird.