This is the first time I'm writing for a prompt that wasn't extended to me, but because I love this pairing so much, I couldn't resist.
The prompt was given to purrpickle (who is a fantastic writer, and whose work I read when I'm in need of a little Faberry inspiration) by JackyKay, and it is as follows:
"Santana finds Rachel being viciously bullied after school by a bunch of jocks, when suddenly their teasing turns sexually menacing and Santana storms in to 'save the day' and breaks one of the boys' jaws with a hockey/lacrosse stick/baseball bat. Rachel in turn threatens to press charges on all the boys to keep the one boy from charging the Latina with assault. After that Santana takes it upon herself to keep an eye out for littlest Gleek. Rachel, being the whimsical woman she is, always did have a soft spot for that whole 'white knight' cliché.
Bonus points for Santana correcting her: "Hispanic Knight, Berry.""
I'm in the process of lugging my bulky McKinley Titans lacrosse bag out to the Mustang my mombought me for my 16th birthday when I hear the commotion coming from behind the field house.
"Why, hey there, Short Stack. Off to spread some more of your Glee fairy dust?"
"No, Azimio, I'm actually here waiting for Finn, so if you'll excuse me…"
Dammit. I'd know that self-entitled voice anywhere, I think to myself before taking a deep breath and stepping around the sand-colored brick wall that stood between me and the altercation.
My suspicions are confirmed when I'm met with the sight of Karofsky and Azimio backing none other than Rachel Berry into the outer wall of the boys' locker room. I try to keep my eyes down as I walk brusquely toward the chain-link fence that surrounds the field, when a squeal from the ensnared girl stops me in my tracks.
"Why wait for Finn? We've got all you need right here," Karofsky sneers behind me.
I turn on my heel, my dusty black Adidas sliders grinding hard into the pavement. The tips of my ears burn in anger as Azimio grabs Rachel's waist and pins her against the wall. His Caucasian cohort drags rough fingers up the girl's thigh and smirks harshly at her. Ensuring that the petite girl's assailants' attention is diverted, I slide my red and black zebra-striped lacrosse stick out from between the handles of my duffle.
"Please, let me go," Rachel pleads desperately, and hearing her do so breaks my heart a little. I've never heard her sound so helpless.
"No way, babe," Azimio snickers before bending his head to bite down hard on his prey's shoulder. "The party's just begun."
My fists are shaking with rage, my grip on the metal of my stick tight enough to blanch the skin on my knuckles. My eyebrows draw together in concentration as I make my way toward the group. Rachel spots me first and moves to cry out, but falls silent when I hurriedly hold a single finger to my lips. Gratitude swirls in her expressive brown eyes as I drop my bag on the ground with a gravelly thud. This draws the attention of the burly football players, who pivot to look for the source of the noise. I settle into my face-off stance and prepare myself for contact.
"Good afternoon, Neanderthals. A pleasure, as always," I say with a bright artificial smile. "I believe you have my Hobbit."
Rachel winces at the nickname and tries to wriggle out of Azimio's grasp. Karofsky spots her movement and slams her back against the brick. A lone tear makes its way down her flushed cheek as she sets her jaw to bite back a whimper of pain. He laughs cruelly before turning his harsh gaze back to me.
"Get lost, Lopez. This one's ours," the large boy growls. I simply smirk and twirl my lacrosse stick in my hands.
"Sorry, can't do that. I have Yentl down for a slushie on her walk home from school, and you messing with her is throwing off my schedule. Back up, afores I ends you."
Azimio takes a step toward me while Karofsky smiles and presses his frame against Rachel's, easily outweighing her and cutting off any chance she has at escape. There's absolute terror in her eyes now, and I send her a reassuring nod to tell her I have everything under control. I watch Azimio's feet carefully, looking for an opening just like Coach Holliday taught me.
"I ain't on the South Bitch Diet, sweetheart, so why don't you just run along and find your rugby dyke before this gets nasty."
And with that, I see red. My teeth clench hard when he mentions my best friend, the blood pounding loudly in my ears.
The line has been crossed, I hiss angrily in my head. No one bad-mouths Brittany.
The confident linebacker takes another large stride, and I finally have the opportunity I've been waiting for. His right foot comes down, the entirety of his body weight on his lead foot. I give him a menacing grin before jamming the crosse of my stick hard into his windpipe. Azimio drops to his knees and gasps for breath, allowing me to land a full force blow to the side of his head. Blood gushes from the laceration just above his ear as he falls limply on his side, losing consciousness before his body hits the concrete. I snicker darkly at the irony of the injury; one of our defensemen caught a swing in the same place during our match against the Lima Senior High Spartans two weeks ago. Their attacker had been slapped with a yellow card, and Matt's little sister Alexandra is now out for the season with a serious concussion as a result.
Karofsky, eyes wide at the damage I've just dealt to his partner-in-crime, releases his grip on Rachel to come at me, his meaty fist poised to strike. The petite girl scrambles to cower on the other side of the chain-link fence, tears and sobs escaping freely now. I quickly toss her a sympathetic glance before swiping the large boy's arm down with my crosse and sending the butt end forcefully into his chin. I'm rewarded with a blood-curdling crack, followed by a howl of agony from the Titans' star right guard. Karofsky's hand flies to his jaw, cradling it tenderly as he staggers backward.
"Fucking bitch!" he manages to grunt out angrily, his freshly broken jaw causing his mouth to hang open at an awkward angle. "I'll have your ass thrown in jail for this!"
Out of nowhere, Rachel steps between the two of us and begins jabbing her index finger squarely into the boy's chest to punctuate every word of her threat.
"Should you decide to press charges against Santana, I'll regale the Lima Police with all the details of how you and Azimio sexually accosted me on school grounds. I'll vouch for Santana, and tell them that you suffered your injuries as a result of her defense of me. In a small town such as this, the fall-out will be reminiscent of the Duke University Lacrosse scandal, circa 2006. Are we clear, David?"
She spits out his name as if it's bile in her throat, and I'm impressed and oddly aroused by Rachel's sudden display of courage. And, true to form, Karofsky lets out a frustrated sigh of surrender and stalks over to Azimio's concussed body, hoisting him up and proceeding to drag him into the boys' locker room. Still in an adrenaline-fuelled daze, I allow my lacrosse stick to slip from my hands and clatter to the pavement. My fists stay clenched until Rachel's soft hands cover my own. I break my focus on the locker room door to look down into her careful eyes.
"Are you alright, Santana?"
Her voice is almost at a whisper, and my ability to hear it draws my attention to our close proximity. I flash her a wry smile to hide the irregular beating of my heart beneath my red mesh Lady Titans jersey.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that, Berry?" I croak out, my hands relaxing at my sides. I slowly and begin to gather my gear, lifting my bag onto my right shoulder and taking my lacrosse stick in my left hand.
Rachel chuckles nervously and shakes her head. "I'm quite alright. A little shaken, but alright."
I nod and send her a soft smile before I start taking strides toward the student parking lot again. She lets me get a few steps before running to catch up to me and laying a light peck against my slightly sweaty cheek. I stop walking and stare at her in confusion, causing her to blush under my gaze. My eyebrow quirks up in surprise when her fingers lace themselves with mine and squeeze my hand.
"That was for saving me… being my 'white knight', so to speak."
I grin sincerely, something I rarely do for anyone other than Brittany, and return her squeeze. Her eyes light up at the affectionate gesture, sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.
"'Hispanic knight', Berry," I correct gently. Rachel's melodious laugh fills my ears as I lead her over to my car. "Now get in, Shrimp. I'll spare you the walk home today."
She launches into another long-winded monologue about how walking is good for your health, and I begin to question my motives for rescuing her in the first place.
Yes, there will be a second chapter; and yes, it will contain sexy times! Yay! : )