So, the writing here is awkward, because it's third person and I very very very very rarely use that. It's even more awkward because it was originally written in first and I changed it. Hopefully it's still okay though. :) This is my first Glee fanfic and my first fic in third person, so be gentle (or not, I actually don't care, just let me know what you think!).

Chapter One

Sing us a song

And we'll sing it back to you

We could sing our own

But what would it be without you?

-Your Secret Admirer

"Rachel! Did you hear what I said?" Rachel dropped the dreamy smile she'd been wearing and replaced it with an innocent one.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Schue, I was distracted." She saw a shadow fall over her note and looked up to find Santana lurking and reading over her shoulder. "Santana!" She snapped, folding it and chucking it under her seat, "That was private!"

"I saw hearts. Got yourself a boyfriend, Berry?" Various gasps and murmurs erupted from the room – 'You didn't tell me?' 'Who is it?' 'Class! Quiet, please!' 'C'mon, Rach, tell us!'.

"It's – it's a secret admirer, guys. I don't know who it is." The class once again burst into noise – "ooh"s and "aw"s and more questions while Mr. Schuester tried unsuccessfully to get our attention.

Of course, Santana had to ruin Rachel's small moment of fame with one of her small remarks. "Yeah, if I liked you, I wouldn't want to admit it, either."

"Thank you, Santana," she sneered, then folded her hands in her lap and looked pointedly at Mr. Schue. "Now, I believe we were about to start our new assignment?"

"Yes!" He turned and thrust a finger to the whiteboard, grinning. They all took a moment to register what it said: Duets. Several people frowned or drew their eyebrows together. They'd all done plenty of duets – wasn't it time to move on to bigger and brighter things? "Now, I realize some of you are confused. But be honest. Look around – how many of these people have you actually sung with? That's why I'm pairing you up this time.

His pairings sounded disastrous, but they were certainly interesting. Finn and Lauren, Quinn and Tina – and then Rachel's head snapped up as her name was called. "Rachel and Santana." She tried not to grimace, instead she turned to look at her partner. They stared at each other blankly for a second before Santana finally moved, dragging a chair across from Rachel and straddling it.

"You got any ideas?" she asked in a monotone. She was focused on her nails rather than Rachel, and barely noticed when the girl shook her head. "Alright. I'll, uh, come over later, I guess. Can I crash at your place?"

"Um, y-yeah, sure." Never in her life would she have expected to hear that from Santana – but that was the point of the assignment, wasn't it? Breaking boundaries. But this was one giant boundary. "I'll, uh, meet you outside after rehearsal, okay?"

–!-!-!-!-!-

"Hey, Daddy! This is Santana." He smiled, but inconspicuously shot Rachel a perplexed glance. Her dads had heard all about Santana from their daughter, and a majority of it wasn't exactly nice. "Is it okay if she sleeps over? We have some stuff to work on for Glee."

"Of course it's okay! It's nice to meet you, Santana." They both got into the backseat of the car and were mostly silent as her father awkwardly tried to make small talk. Rachel would never admit it, but talking to Santana made her nervous. It felt like everything she said was wrong – probably because to Santana, it was.

When they got to the house, Rachel's other father was already cooking up his world-famous (kind of) spaghetti. From the glimmer in her eye and the fact that she was drooling, it was quite obvious that Santana would like it. "That smells amazing, Mr. Berry."

"Call me Leroy! Santana, right?" She nodded and her smile grew wider than it had been in a long time. She still felt out of place, but her smile was – dare she say it – almost real.

–!-!-!-!-!-

"I like your house. It's really... homey." The longing in her voice made Rachel wonder if her house was really a home. Maybe that could explain why she was so grumpy all the time.

"It doesn't bother you that I have two dads?" Sure, homophobes and glee club didn't exactly go together, but she'd never been the most accepting of Kurt.

"Of course not! They're great, and it'd be a little hypocritical if I was homophobic – oh shit." Their eyes widened simultaneously, Santana's in fear and Rachel's in shock. For a tiny moment Rachel looked beyond the deep brown of her eyes and saw how timid she really was. She started to lift one hand towards her, but with that small movement, she was closed off again. "Uh, what I meant was – well – you better not tell anyone, Berry."

"I – I would never." She tried to swallow her nerves, but her throat was parched, and all she managed to do was nearly choke. "Um. Who else knows?"

"Just Brittany and Dave." After a minute of confusion, Rachel finally realized who Dave was – not that that cleared anything up.

"Wait – what? Karofsky knows? Why?" Obviously Santana and Rachel were far from best friends, but she was a bit offended that he knew before she did. Then again, they had dated... which was even more confusing. "Wait, didn't you guys go out for a while? And what about Finn, and Puck, and Sam?"

"Dave and I were each other's beards." Rachel gave her a blank look and tried to ignore the mental image of Dave somehow wearing Santana as a beard. "We pretended to date so no one would know I'm a lesbian and he's gay," she clarified.

"Oh, that's pretty – Karofsky's gay?" Everything was becoming more and more of a jumbled mess in Rachel's mind. Even Santana seemed confused.

"Kurt didn't tell you? I thought you guys were like, BFFs." Did everyone know this but me? Rachel thought, I really need to start being more aware.

"I thought we were, too! Kurt knew?" She didn't know whether to be hurt or understanding – she didn't know anything, honestly.

She lowered herself onto her bed and blinked furiously, trying to process everything she'd just learned. And as if all that wasn't enough, she suddenly had another thought – what if Santana was her secret admirer? He/she/it did have pretty girly handwriting. She looked up at Santana incredulously, but tried to hide it. She couldn't be right. Santana was a lesbian, but that didn't mean she automatically liked Rachel.

"What?" she snarled, bringing Rachel back to reality. She was sprawled out on the bed. Rachel looked away sheepishly when she realized she'd been staring. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I want girls ogling me."

"I'm sorry, I was just – I zoned out -" she was cut off by a sigh and Santana scrambling off the bed.

"Whatever. I have to go." Rachel choked out one syllable of a protest before the door was slammed shut, sending vibrations all the way to the bed.

–!-!-!-!-!-

"Thanks for letting me stay after... after that," Santana murmured, but refused to even look at Rachel. Instead, she stayed completely focused on the newest Gossip Girl.

"Oh. It's no problem. But... don't take this the wrong way, but why did you stay?" She had seemed perfectly fine with never talking to Rachel again when she'd stormed off, but she showed up ten minutes later, damp from the rain and acting like a bitch.

"Didn't feel like walking home." She shrugged nonchalantly, but I sensed something more there. It brought her back to her thoughts earlier, about her home life.

"Okay. Well, um... you can always stay here, if you ever don't feel like going home." They gazed at each other, growing more intense each second, and for a while Rachel thought she was angry, until she finally spoke.

"Thanks," she muttered quietly. Her eyes moved around the room warily before falling on Rachel again. "You know, you're not that bad."

It wasn't exactly a compliment, but it was better than her usual nasty comments, and Rachel appreciated that. She gave Santana a glowing smile and replied, "Thank you. That actually means a lot to me. I kind of thought you were going to hate me forever."

"I never hated you, Rachel." Once again, Rachel considered the possibility that Santana was her admirer – no, no, she had to get that thought out of her head! "I'm a bitch to everyone. It's not personal."

"Oh, well that's... good to know." The next half hour was silent except for the TV and the occasional halfhearted chuckle. "It's getting late, we should get ready for bed. If you want I can throw your uniform in the wash?"

Twenty minutes later Santana was curled up on the couch (in Rachel's pajamas) and Rachel sat in the recliner, watching her. Her eyes were shut, but she was still awake. Rachel pushed against the back of the chair lazily to lay down and pulled the blanket over her shoulders, figuring she may as well try to sleep.

But she couldn't – she was plagued with thoughts of her admirer. Who was it? Did the person write the poem, or was it quoted? And most importantly, was it Santana? She didn't know what she'd do if it was – but it didn't matter, because it wasn't her.

"Rachel?" Santana mumbled sleepily, opening her eyes halfway, "Are you still awake?"

"Yeah, why?" Rachel whispered, although her parents were far out of earshot and already fast asleep. It just seemed appropriate.

"Oh." She was ready to question her, but she was already asleep.

–!-!-!-!-!-

"It's... well, it's certainly not a song I would expect you to choose." It was romantic, girly, everything Santana wasn't.

"Yeah, but it'll sound fuckin' awesome when we sing it together." She had a point – their voices were very different, but raspy and feminine always did seem to go well together.

"Yes... it will." She smiled and shut off her iPod. "Come on, my dad's waiting for us."

Alright, I know the way Rachel found out about Santana's sexuality was really bad, but I wanted to get it out of the way and Santana would never just tell Rachel, so... bear with me. Reviews, s'il vous plait? I'll love you forever, I need concrit desperately!