A/N: Okay so I've never really written Pezberry before, so please go easy on me, okay? I'd really appreciate your feedback. Thank youuuu!
disclaimer: Still working on the actually owning Glee part.
"Berry!" she hears someone call.
Rachel turns around as she closes her locker. "Santana," she replies. "Hi." She starts to ask if he (ex)Cheerio needs something, but she doesn't get the chance.
"Look," the taller girl starts. "I don't apologize often because, frankly, I don't feel the need to be sorry for being myself, but— " She shrugs. "I'm sorry."
Rachel stares, trying (and failing) to hide the smile breaking onto her face because it feels like the acceptance she's finally achieved today is enough to make her heart burst.
"And I'll do my best to only call you mean names every other day from now on."
"But—"
"Baby steps, Berry. Don't get ahead of yourself."
She purses her lips, fingering the pendant at her throat. She still hasn't come up with anything to say, but it doesn't matter much because Santana speaks again.
"But Finn was right," she says softly, even smiling a little as she turns to walk away.
"About what?"
Santana stops briefly and looks over her shoulder. "For being proud of you."
"You know," Santana says as she sips lazily at her drink. "I think you should totally thank me."
"Really?" Rachel takes a slow bite from her sandwich. "And why exactly is that?"
She doesn't say anything immediately, but a smirk forms on her face. They've been sitting together at lunch ever since they'd won Regionals. "I totally gave you and Finn the best parts of that song."
Rachel frowns in confusion. She thinks maybe Santana's brownies might contain some extra ingredients today.
"Really Ber—Rachel? Who do you think wrote the parts about 'screaming my name' and 'push me up against the locker'?" She raises a perfectly-trimmed eyebrow and laughs hard enough to almost fall off her sat at the look on Rachel's face. It's priceless.
"You—I—Finn—I didn't, um…really, Santana?" she whispers. "That's so crude!"
"You totally know you wish both those lines were the truth."
"I'll have you know, I'm a perfectly respectable person, thank you, and I've even joined the celibacy club." She harrumphs and goes back to eating her lunch.
"Please," her sort-of friend (?) counters. "Once you open up those toned legs of yours, you'll be a total freak. I can sense these things."
Rachel's mouth drops open and Santana just laughs again.
"Do they even make shoes that aren't moccasins for midgets like you?"
Rachel opens her mouth, then closes it again, still unsure how to respond.
"Relax, it's a serious question," Santana tells her, digging through Rachel's closet.
"How?"
"Because we're going to get you looking sexed up, Ye—um, Rachel."
She frowns. "Why?" she asks.
"Because I saw one Finn Hudson checking you out today, despite what the moron thinks he doesn't feel about you."
Rachel's heart starts beating a little faster and she knows this isn't how it's supposed to be. "N-no. Finn likes the way I dress. And –and he's with Quinn, isn't he? I can't go on a date with him!"
Santana snorts. "You're not. You're going on a date with this guy I know from the Pick N Save. You'll look smokin' and totally make Finn jealous. Trust me, I've been acing this technique since before I learned how to walk."
"No," Rachel protests firmly. "If I want things between me and Finn to work out, I need to do it right. And this isn't right." Though she can't deny that a part of her wouldn't love to make him jealous.
The other girl sighs, resigned. "Fine, we can just watch that stupid musical for the eighteenth time. You're so boring, Berry, you know that?"
"I like to think of it as dependable," she counters, grinning when Santana just rolls her eyes.
"Whatever. Those pajamas still make you look like a toddler."
"Well, perhaps. But you still bought them for me."
Santana , for once, doesn't have anything to say to that. Rachel smirks triumphantly.
"Are you drunk?"
Rachel giggles, reaching for Santana's hair.
And that's a yes, the former Cheerio thinks to herself. "What happened to you never drinking again?" she asks wryly.
"Finn."
"What? Don't make me beat that idiot's ass." Santana frowns. Sure, Rachel is kind of annoying, but they're sort of friends or whatever and she doesn't deserve to be jerked around.
"It's really a nice one, too, don't you think?" Rachel laughs again.
"Are you telling me you like Finn's ass?" She snorts.
"Very much. He let me touch it, you know." Rachel stumbles a little and Santana catches her arm. But before she can ask what hell Rachel had been doing tonight, she says, "He was drunk, though. But I think we're making progress, regardless."
Santana doesn't say that Finn probably doesn't or wouldn't remember what happened. Even though he's not with Quinn anymore, he hasn't exactly encouraged Rachel either. She decides that if he really wants Rachel, then fine, she won't stand in the way.
But if he's leading Rachel on again, Santana will castrate him. "Yeah," she agrees half-heartedly. "I hope so."
"You love her, don't you?" Rachel asks softly.
"Go away, Yentl," Santana snaps back.
"You know you can be honest with me."
Santana doesn't say anything for a while. "I'll go make some tea," the shorter girl murmurs.
"We're not fucking British, Rachel. I don't need fucking tea," she grumbles as Rachel hands her a mug. "Why are you even here?"
"You just seemed sad today," she admits. "And I saw you staring at Brittany the way I—well, I know that look, Santana. And if you ever need—"
"I know. Thanks," she adds after a moment. And then, "Yeah. I do."
Rachel doesn't need to ask what she's talking about. She just strokes Santana's hair as the Latina cries on her shoulder.
"Santana?" Rachel asks softly.
"Yeah?"
"Why did you sleep with Finn?"
Santana sits up, her eyes guarded. "Seriously, Berry? You're pulling this shit now?" After they're like, friends, or whatever.
"No, I'm not mad anymore," Rachel insists. "Finn and I have gotten past all of that. Now I'm simply…curious."
Santana shrugs, leaning back against the bed post once more. "It was an image thing. He was the top dog around this joint—guess he is again now—and I dunno. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Shoulda known he would lousy in the sack, though," she adds under her breath, grinning at the way Rachel's face turns all flushed.
"Okay," she says simply.
"Okay? Seriously? You talk for three hours about Barbra Streisand's nose and all you have to say is 'okay'? What's wrong with you?" She frowns at the shorter girl, her eyes roaming expectantly.
Rachel smiles a little. "I forgave you both a long time ago. And even though you won't admit it, I know you didn't do it to hurt me just because you hated me back then." She whispers, "I know what it's like to have insecurities."
"Yeah well," Santana says. "Just yeah." She doesn't know how or why Rachel is so understanding, but she's grateful for it, even if the words to tell her that won't come out easily.
So she just closes her eyes momentarily and lets Rachel pick out some stupid musical that's the same as all the other stupid musicals they watch.
She really needs to take Rachel to a club or something.
Santana watches the way Rachel walks into her house. "Holy shit!"
Rachel turns around as they enter the kitchen, her eyes wide. "What is it?"
"You totally fucked him, didn't you?"
"Santana!" Rachel scolds, scandalized, but she can't hide the blush that stains her cheeks.
"Haaaaaaaaaaah!" The Latina fist pumps the air. "You and Finn totally played squeeze and squish all night. I can't believe it!"
"Not all night!" The shorter girl claps a hand over her mouth immediately. Santana laughs manically. "It's not funny."
"It's fucking hilarious! You can't even walk straight!"
Rachel's face goes even redder.
"I'm guessing that means the oaf's gotten better since I played that game with him—sorry," she adds.
Rachel shrugs—they've talked about this. It doesn't bother her like it used to and frankly, her evening had been lovely.
"It was amazing," she whispers.
Santana snorts because she still can't believe Finn's manned up enough to leave Rachel Berry walking crooked after just one night. But it's about time, she supposes—they've been back together for almost six months now.
And her eyes go wide when Rachel tells her just how much Finn has improved since her day.
"We'z finally getsin' outta this shithole, baby Berry!" Santana knocks down another cup of whatever she's drinking and takes a seat on Rachel's lap.
As it is, Rachel finds herself used to it and doesn't bother to ask Santana to move. She grins. "I can't believe our high school career is officially over!"
"It's about damn time," she mutters. Resting a hand on Rachel's shoulder, Santana calls out to everyone at her graduation party, "Hey! Drunkies and losers! My friend Rachel Berry here is gonna sing y'all a song. Know why? 'Cause she's gon' be a staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar! On Broadway." Santana starts crying a little and Rachel looks up at her, startled.
"S-Santana? What's going on?"
"Come on," she says, pulling Rachel up. "You want a last chance at kicking these scumbags' asses to the curb? Then makes it happen, my little dwarfy friend. After this, you enter the reeeeeaaaaaall world!" She throws her hands up, and her voice is still shaky from her hysterics.
"I don't…are you sure?" But people are cheering for her. Well, some are, anyway.
"Totally." Santana claps Rachel on the shoulder and hands her a cup to use as a pretend microphone. "Just for fuck's sake, don't sing that Vitamin C song."
"I don't know if this a good idea," Rachel says nervously.
"Please." Santana applies a little more lip gloss as they move up in line. "All these fine men here will be checking you out hardcore, trust me."
Rachel frowns a little, a crease appearing in her brow. "I'm with Finn, Santana. You know that!"
"Relax, my tiny friend. I'm not telling you to cheat on the guy." She aims a smoldering look at the bouncer, and then turns back to Rachel. "I'm just sayin' you should show all these deadbeats what they've been missing these last couple years before you high-tail it to New York."
"I suppose it would be nice to prove to everyone I'm not a nobody," she muses quietly.
"That's the spirit! We might as well make the best of our last summer before—" she forms air quotes—"'The Real World.' And I made a promise to myself to take you to a club, so let's go."
Rachel doesn't want to think about how Santana managed to get her into this club—seeing as she's still seventeen. But as the night progresses, she finds herself not caring too much.
Because people do notice her and it feels good. And it feels even better when she gets to tell them she's unavailable.
"Shit," Santana curses, wiping at her eyes. "I'm actually gonna miss your ass, Berry."
Rachel smiles and engulfs her friend in a hug as she takes a last look around Lima for now. She won't miss it, but she'll miss the people. "I'll miss you too," she whispers. "I'll be back for Thanksgiving."
Santana snorts and turns to Finn. "Take care of her, you nitwit, or I will kick your ass."
Rachel watches as Finn swallows audibly and says that he will, of course. "Santana!" Rachel chastises. "Stop that. And I can take care of myself just fine, thank you."
She watches as a slow smirk forms on the Latina's face. "Whatever you say. Now get out of here before I cry again. I has a rep to maintain you know."
"You're not really from the ghetto," Rachel tells her, laughing a little as she takes Finn's hand.
"Says the girl who grew up in a house where her dads have a room in the basement for each major award show event."
She grins and gives Santana another quick hug, as well as her other friends and family, before she boards the train to New York.
She'd made an unlikely friend in Santana Lopez, but also one of the greatest.
Even if she knows Finn is still scared of her.
so? what do you think? I'll probably write more of this at some point, uh, if you want that is. Let me know :)
Reviews = love.