Disclaimer: I own no part of Glee, and I become more and more grateful.

Stop Messin' 'Round

"We have to stop meeting like this, Rachel."

"… I'm not supposed to come by your house?"

Santana narrowed her eyes, "I could have spotted your 'I want something from you' face when we didn't associate on a near daily basis. Since I've accepted you into my circle of friends, I've become painfully familiar with it. So," she paused to give Rachel a very direct look, "out with it."

"I'm not so much here to ask for a favor, as to share an oppor-"

"Rachel!"

"Right..." Rachel changed her tactic, "I've made an arrangement and I think we'd sound fantastic on it. With your knack for sexy jazz and my powerhouse technique, it's going to sound magical. And, honestly, I can't believe we haven't done this song before. It would seem the obvious and natural chain of events."

This, Santana wasn't sure she liked the sound of. Rachel'd done some damn fine arrangements, and they'd certainly done some good duets together, but the girl could be a loose cannon at times when it came to musical taste. That last sentence? That sounded suspiciously like one her tells when she was thinking in strange, jazz hands sort of places. "I make no promises of any kind, but if you tell me what song is, in your words, 'obvious and natural' within the next five seconds, I might allow you to make your case."

In lieu of speaking, Rachel simply handed over some neatly written and labeled sheets. Seeing the arrangement in front of her, Santana had to admit that it was a good song and that the two of them could knock it out of the park in a way that may well not have been heard before. She also now understood where the 'inspiration' had come from, and that was the bit that was giving her mixed feelings.

Now, Santana thought that Carlos Santana was as awesome as the next person with ears and any musical sense, but yeah, mixed feelings. It was kind of a strange thing to know that to anyone who wasn't in your family or at your school, upon hearing your name would conjure up a picture of an old man who could make a guitar sing, and who had a penchant for being called by his last name. She wasn't absolutely sure that she wanted to reinforce the connection between that image and herself. On the other hand, it was a damn good song.

"You may make your arguments now."

Having been given Santana's blessing, Rachel proceeded to do just that. "Of course, Black Magic Woman is an iconic song of the genre..."

"The pulse is weakening, the patient is going into cardiac arrest..." Santana warned.

Rachel regrouped, planning another method of attack. "It's sexy!"

Santana nodded, "That's one."

"It provides an excuse for festive but dark decor and costuming."

"Nerdy, but still somewhat appealing, I'll give you two."

Rachel was a bit desperate. This gambit could easily go either way. "You can use it to reinforce people's association with you and your rumored psychic, Mexican third eye!"

Santana squinted her eyes at the shorter girl in front of her, who was currently gulping nervously. That sounded a bit like a judgment, maybe some disbelief, and possibly a small insult. "Is it me, or does that statement smell of doubt?"

"No." It was said firmly, but also too quickly.

Santana squinted some more at Rachel. Twenty very quiet seconds passed. "Agree not to make eye-sex at Finessa or anything else cringe worthy and I'll accept."

"Done!"