A/N: I do not own Glee nor the characters within. Also, this drabble was written as I was drunk, so I wonder if I'll remember it very well in the morning...
Santana had cornered her in the girls' bathroom, smoothly locking the door behind her. "Berry," the corners of her mouth had lifted up, eyes sharp and predatory, "I've seen you looking at me. And I've found myself asking myself what it is, exactly, that you want." Pressing in close, the proud cheerleader's gaze moved swiftly back and forth from brown eyes and pink lips.
"I… I don't know what it is that you assume about me," Rachel protested, chin jutting up. "Because you are surely mistaken."
"Am I?" Taking another step forward, almost within arms' length now, Santana smirked. "So it's my imagination that you study the way I move? That your eyes catalog every little thing my body does? I've seen you watching me, Berry, and beyond my best judgment, I'm curious as to what is going on in that busy little brain of yours."
"R-really?"
"Oh yes." Long fingers coming up to ghost across Rachel's cheek, Santana smirked. "To get that expression on your face, you surely must be feeling something. And with your work ethic…" Santana pulled Rachel's head forward, tilting her head up, "I cannot help but find myself curious how committed you would be to seeing your interest through."
Rachel squirmed away, fists pressing firmly against Santana as she pushed her back. A bright red blush bloomed on her cheeks, expression indignant. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Hmm." Studying Rachel's face, Santana finally nodded her head, smoothly stepping forward. Hands sliding around to cup Rachel's hips, pulling her close, she smirked at the quick indrawn breath her actions yielded. "See, this is where I know you're lying." Clucking her tongue, Santana leaned in close. She watched as her breath ghosting across Rachel's lips caused her to shiver.
"Santana…"
"Yes…?" Santana leaned in even closer, feeling the electric current running through Rachel's body, nearly jumping up and zapping her. She could almost feel Rachel's trembling as if it was her own.
"You're mistaken."
"Oh, I am?" Shaking her head minutely, Santana smirked again. "I really don't see why you're protesting so much," she remarked genially, hands tensing lightly on Rachel's hips, "What could be the worst that could happen?" She traced the outline of her own lips with her tongue, smiling triumphantly at the badly hidden whimper Rachel let out at her action.
Taking a deep breath, Rachel reached up and gripped Santana's biceps with her hands, fingers digging in. "You're incorrigible," she breathed, flushing, eyes hiding behind fluttering eyelashes.
"True. I like to think so sometimes," Santana relented, dipping her head, "But that makes it all the more fun." Breathing in deeply herself, she lowered her head even more, smiling widely, "Don't you think?"
"…Perhaps." All she could offer, Santana could feel Rachel tensing on her toes, pushing herself up. Only a few millimeters separated them.
Santana smiled. "I knew you'd see it my way. After all…" she paused, one hand lifting to cup the nape of Rachel's neck, "The benefits reap the rewards…" And with a sigh, not knowing from whom, exactly, it issued, their mouths were opening into each other.
"Incorrigible," Rachel whispered again, pulling away slightly and brushing Santana's lips with her own, hands gripping her tightly to keep her close, "But I really don't mind."
Biting down on Rachel's lower lip, Santana smirked as she tugged it firmly, pulling her in tighter, "Yes. Me neither. Me… Neither."