Title: I Didn't Really Mean It

Rating: Rated: M/NC-17

Summary: Rachel gets a call from an old friend asking for some help, but when Rachel responds she may have gotten into much more than she expected.

A/N: This is based off of that Naya video that came out from when she was 20 doing a striptease on Spike and this Pezberry manip (dreamsofgoldstars tumblr com/post/23258616977) based off of that.

I Didn't Really Mean It

"Hello," Rachel greeted warmly when she picked up the phone. There was no answer, but Rachel could hear sniffling and heavy breathing coming from the other end. "Hello?" Rachel repeated again, a little more timidly.

"R-Rachel?" The trembling voice seemed very familiar to her. "Rachel, It's Brittany."

"Brittany?" Rachel is genuinely confused. The only people she's talked to since high school have been Kurt, Blaine, and Tina, but only because she and Kurt go to NYADA and Blaine, who is still dating Kurt, is going to NYU and he met Tina there. Rachel figured that after high school no one really wanted to keep in touch with each other unless they had practically been attached at the hip with them or went to the same school. "Brittany, are you alright?" Rachel asked when Brittany began to cry hysterically.

There was a rustling and a scraping noise as the phone seemed to be passed from Brittany to someone else to take over for the hysterical girl. "Rachel," a strong commanding voice said, "It's Quinn. I- We need your help."

"Q-Quinn? Help? Well... what kind of help?" Rachel got up from the couch and escaped into her bedroom when she became aware of Kurt and Blane's prying eyes.

"You're the only other person that could possibly get through to her, Rachel. Britt and I tried, we even got Puck to come in from Cali and even he couldn't help. We need you, Rachel."

"Wait, wait! Quinn, slow down. What is it, I don't understand," Rachel rushed out as she paced her bedroom furiously.

"Ugh! It's Santana! She's in trouble and we need you to do one of your annoying Berry rants and talk her out of the hole that she's in."

Rachel stopped where she was. Santana? As in Santana Lopez? As in the most badass bitch to ever roam the halls of William McKinley High, or the streets of Lima, Ohio much less? "Well... what's wrong with Santana?"

"I can't tell you over the phone, it's too hard to explain like this. You have to come here."

"Quinn, I have school. I can't just leave and fly up to New England on a whim!"

Quinn let out an infuriated sigh on the other end. "We aren't in New England, Berry. We're in New York- Brooklyn."

"What?" Rachel practically screamed into the phone, "You guys have been in new York all this time and you didn't tell me? What the hell are you doing in New York?"

"Never mind that, Rachel! Just come here! Tonight!" Quinn rattled off the address and before Rachel could ask any more questions she had hung up.

Rushing from her bedroom, Rachel grabbed her winter coat, her wallet, keys, and cellphone. When Kurt asked her what was wrong Rachel just brushed past him and told him not to wait up for her, there was an emergency and she would call him later. And then she was gone, out of the apartment and tearing down the streets of Manhattan to the nearest subway station.

After Rachel had called back multiple times and finally gotten the address out of Quinn before she hung up again, she in Brooklyn, following the street signs to the address written across her palm. When she finally stopped, she found herself in front of a seedy looking bar with neon signs in the window stating "GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS!" and moving pin-ups of girls opening and closing their legs. "I swear, if this is some childish prank that these girls set me up on, I will be showing them just how displeased I am," Rachel said to herself as she pushed open the door.

Upon entering, Rachel's eyes adjusted to the awful lighting of dim overhead lights and bright neon coming from the floor and under a stage. The only decent lighting, it seemed, was pointed at the makeshift stage where Rachel tried to ignore the topless girl sliding up and down a pole as Rachel tried to look for her old friends. She spotted Brittany and Quinn in a booth across the way, stuck in a corner. Both of them had very worried looks on their faces. This was either a very elaborate plan to embarrass Rachel, or they were, in fact, in great need of her help. She walked over to them and slid into the booth and waited for them to begin.

She didn't bother greeting them because, if it was as urgent as it seemed to be over the phone, then they – or Quinn – wouldn't have time for any pleasantries. She was right. "Okay, Berry, here's the deal: we need you to talk to Santana – or yell at her, whatever – and get her to understand that her life is shit right now and she really needs to turn it around."

Rachel was still confused as to my she had to do it. "Why me? Why not you or Brittany?"

"We've already tried, multiple times, in multiple combinations, we even got the other gleeks to come over her and talk to her, but you know San! She's just as stubborn as you were in high school, and if you are anything like the old Rachel Berry, you are the only one who will have the patience and will to talk her out of it!"

"Okay, I think I should be flattered, so I'm just going to be," Rachel says. Brittany nods at her, as if confirming that she should. "But can you explain to me now what is the problem? And why you couldn't explain it over the phone?"

"Santana is..." Brittany begins, but is interrupted by an MC coming over the PA system and the music changing from a heavy techno song to a sultry base.

"Thank you, Lemon Drop! And now, please welcome to the stage, the exotic- the beautiful- the sexy- Daddy's worst nightmare- Snix the Sex Ba-Bomb!" The men in the club seemed to scream their appreciation and all rush to the stage, waving bills around to get the new dancer's attention.

"Santana is... that," Quinn said, pointing over at the stage. Rachel turned hesitantly and let her eyes roam over the new girl. A girl with obviously died blond hair – or possibly a wig – and wearing thigh-high socks with little red bows at the sides, and a red and black plaid skirt with black spanks, and a crisp oxford button down tied up around her waits to show off her flat stomach. She had skipped out onto the stage carrying a few books and an apple She took a bite from the apple and licked up all of the juice that had sprung from the fruit before she tossed it down into the audience. She was... hot! But when Rachel got a look at her face she nearly jumped out of her seat.

"Santana!" Rachel looked back over at Brittany and Quinn who were just looking at her solemnly and nodding their heads. "But... I... What?" Rachel, in complete confusion looked between the girls sitting across from her and Santana.

She bent over and set her books down and carried only one loosely in her hand as she skipped over to the pole; bending over and placing her hand on the pole she raised the book over her head and brought it back down sharply on her backside. She threw the book down when she got the desired scream of appreciation from the men and then proceeded to haul herself up the pole and invert herself on it before sliding back down. She crawled across the floor and rolled onto her back, thrusting her hips up into the air to the beat and making the men yell and whistle more with each thrust. She grabbed hold of the book and rolled back over to her stomach, opening the book and pretending to be done, but when the crowd groaned their displeasure she let the book fall to the floor and winked at the men before pulling her shirt and bra own to reveal her bare breasts to the men – earning her yet another round of yelling and whistling, and lots and lots of bills being thrown her way. She shook her bare breasts a little before sitting back up and tucking herself back into her shirt and walking back over to the pole to roll her hips over it and shake her ass.

When the yelling and whistling became too much for Rachel to bare she looked straight at Brittany and Quinn and said sternly, "Give me a dollar." Quinn looked at her, confused and somewhat disappointed that she would encourage Santana's behavior, but Brittany just reached into her wallet and handed Rachel a dollar bill.

Snagging the bill from Brittany, Rachel walked over to the crowd and pushed through the sea of sweaty, disgusting men in business suits throwing bills at Santana. The crowd parted when they realized that they might get to see some girl-on-girl action, whistling at Rachel as she passed, some smacking her on the bottom, but she just walked by, resisting the urge to turn around and smack all of these men for being such pigheaded neanderthals.

Santana had begun to crawl across the floor and pick up stray bills to put into her costume and collect the bills being shoved in her face when Rachel came to the foot of the stage. She extended her arm and looked right at her old friend with a look of pity. She and Santana connected eyes so quickly and in a moment she just ran backstage, leaving Rachel and all of her adoring, and now disappointed, fans behind.

"Are you serious, right now?" Santana screamed her displeasure, "Are you fucking serious! Her? Her? You bring her of all people to talk me out of this?" Rachel stood against the wall, a sheepish look on her face as Santana raved at Quinn and Brittany in her dressing room. " Didn't really care when you brought Puck, or when you brought Wheezy or Finnocence, or even when you brought Schuester and Mrs. Pillsbury! But her?"

"We thought that she would be the only one to get through to you," Brittany said timidly.

"Fuck that noise! I don't need anyone to get through to me! I'm fine!"

"No, you aren't, S!" Quinn yelled back, unrelenting. "You think you can do this all your life? You can't make a career out of this!"

"Fuck you, Q! I didn't ask you! Why do you care what I do? We aren't friends anymore, we hardly even talked before you realized what I did for a living!" Santana tossed her arms up in the air furiously before growling out to the security guard just outside the door, "Hey, big guy! Can you get these bitches outta here? And don't let them come back in, okay?" He nodded and began to round up the girls. He had hold of the two blondes and was just reaching for Rachel when Santana stopped him. "Wait! Not her, let her stay. She came all this way, I might as well just hear what speech she has prepared." He nodded again before leading Quinn and Brittany out by the shoulders. Santana sauntered over to Rachel and slammed her hand against the wall to the right of Rachel's face, boxing her in. "So? Give it too me, Berry. Lay it on me."

Rachel, for once, was at a loss for words. "Well... I... um... How are you Santana?"

Santana scoffed and released Rachel from her human prison as she walked over to her vanity and began to remove the heavy makeup staining her face. "You aren't doing a very good job of convincing me."

Rachel watched her for a moment and saw her begin to remove bobby pins from her hair and eventually pulled her blonde wig from on top of her head, letting her dark, raven tresses fall around her shoulders. "Oh, thank god it's not real! You look awful as a blonde."

Santana turned over her shoulder and smirked a deadly smirk. "You know, as much as I can appreciate it, insulting me isn't the best tactic either, hobbit."

"Oh please, Santana! Will you just stop it!" Rachel walked over to her chair and spun the girl around until she was face to face with Santana. "Stop acting like such a brat! And that is coming from me! You should know how dangerous being in the flesh peddling business can be, if not for your health and safety, for any future jobs you wish to have after you've run your course with this job.

Santana turned around and looked at Rachel incredulously. "Flesh peddling? It's not like I'm a prostitute! And I do not sleep with any of my costumers." Santana leaned in closely, pointing to herself, "Lesbian, remember."

Rachel nodded, "Fine, but at least think about your future. What are future employers going to think about your previous... job?"

Santana fumed, slamming her hands against the top of her desk. "Why the fuck do you care?" She got up and walked straight over to Rachel. "Why the fuck do you care about me or what I do with my life? My life? Not yours!" Rachel wanted to take a step back, but Santana had backed her into a wall and now they were standing so closely that Rachel could smell Santana's aroma of sweat and her cinnamon perfume.

"I care about you," Rachel said. "We used to be friends, Santana. Remember?"

Santana scoffs again. "Yeah, I remember. I remember me picking on you and calling you awful names and I remember you predicting this exact employment situation for me, actually-"

"Oh, Santana, please. I didn't mean it when I said that! I was just angry at you. I never actually wanted you to become a... a stripper. All I ever wanted to do was be your friend, and we were... Remember?"

Santana looked saddened and took a step away and turned around again, mumbling, "Yeah... I remember."

Rachel took a step forward and reached her hand out to Santana, hesitating before lightly touching her shoulder. She tensed in response, and Rachel saw her quickly wipe away a tear in the mirror and moved around her to face the girl again. "Santana, look at me," she said, pressing the sides of her fingers to her chin and lifting her low-hanging head to face Rachel.

"I hate it here, Rachel. I can't stand what I know those pigs out there are thinking. I know they think of me as sexy, but all they want is for me to have sex with them, and that's why I get such big tips! I get more money than any girl in this joint, but I still get the most shit, from the girls and the guys." Rachel had to push down the disgust she was feeling, and she was sure that she was doing an awful job at it and it was showing on her face clear as day. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to ask Big Tony out there to walk home with me just to make sure I didn't get jumped y one of the girls or harassed by one of the guys."

She smiles softly, sadly, at Santana's sad face and brushes her fingers across her flawless skin gracefully. "You're so beautiful, Santana - like... really beautiful. You shouldn't be wasting it here. Stop letting people use you and think of you as nothing more than a sex object. You're too far above all of this."

Santana had finally let her tears fall at that. She ducked her head down and pressed her face into Rachel's neck and began to sob. "I don't know what else to do, Rachel," she said, muffled by Rachel's skin. "I need this job, I need it to pay the rent. I don't have any other choice, I can't do anything else. I have no other talent."

Rachel shushes her and strokes the crying girl's head lovingly. "No, no that's not true. You're good at dancing – and I don't mean stripping – and you're beautiful. There are lots of photographers and painters at NYU and other colleges and universities in New York that would pay really good money for a subject as beautiful and wonderful as you. And you're a very talented singer; you could sing at bars and clubs, you could even bartend on your off nights so you have a steady paycheck." Rachel lifted Santana's head and looked her right in the eyes, "You don't have to do this, Santana. Please... let me help you."

Santana just looked at Rachel longingly before swooping down to press her lips against the other girl's without thinking it through all the way. She pulled away quickly, though, and pressed her hand to her mouth as if willing her lips to take back what they'd done. "I'm so sorry, Rachel. I don't even... I didn't mean to..."

"No, no! It's okay," Rachel said, putting her hand on the Latina's shoulder in understanding. "It's okay, I understand. And besides... it's not like I didn't enjoy that."

Santana shook her head slightly and looked at Rachel incredulously, "Wait... what? Really?"

"Well, of course, Santana! It was a kiss, and as long as you aren't Jacob Ben Israel or that creepy guy in my History class, kissing is a very pleasurable experience for anyone." Rachel smiled at Santana coyly, "But I think that it's always better when it's you. I wouldn't really know, though, since we've only done it once."

Santana smiles back at Rachel, mirroring her coy smirk, and leans down to press her lips against Rachel's again. Before Santana could pull away however, Rachel reached behind her and pressed down on her neck, holding them in the kiss, giving Santana time to explore Rachel's mouth – much to her pleasure. Santana slid her tongue across Rachel's bottom lip asking for entrance which rachel granted eagerly. A moan escaped Rachel when she felt Santana slide her hands around her waist and press her back against the vanity and rolled her hips against Rachel's.

Santana pulled away just as Rachel began to get into the rhythm of their rolling hips. Rachel's whine of displeasure made Santana smirk mischievously down at the smaller girl as she huskily whispered, "So, what do you think now? Am I still the best?"

Rachel slid her hand over the side of her neck and ran the pad of her thumb across her cheek. She pulled the girl's face down so they could rest their foreheads against each other. "Always," she said simply before lifting onto her tip-toes and kissing Santana slowly. She never told anyone, but Rachel had always been slightly attracted to women, especially Santana – even when they hated each other – and so finally being able to kiss the girl that she's had a (sort of) crush on since high school was like a dream come true.

Santana's hands gripped Rachel's waist harder and wiggled her thumbs under the hem of her shirt to stroke the soft skin there. She edged the rest of her hands completely under the shirt and around her back and moved her lips from over Rachel's own to her neck where she began to kiss and suck and leave a noticeable dark mark. She bunched her shirt in her hands around her waist and whispered in a sultry voice into Rachel's ear, "Do you want to?"

"What a stupid question," Rachel replies. "Of course, Santana." Rachel smirks and brings her own hands around the front of Santana's waist to untie the ends of her shirt and begins to unbutton it. Santana is faster and reaches the middle of Rachel's back to unclasp her bra quickly and pulls it off skillfully while she takes off Rachel's shirt. The second that Rachel's shirt hits the floor Santana's mouth descends onto her breast, taking the nipple into her mouth and sucking until Rachel's moaning and rolling her hips against Santana's, begging for more. Santana switches sides and continues to work the one she left by rolling the now hard peak between her thumb and forefinger.

Rachel pushed Santana off of her and reached behind her to roughly yank Santana's shirt over her shoulders. After throwing the article of clothing to the floor she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, but couldn't find the clasp.

"Mmm... front clasp," Santana mumbled. Off of Rachel's look she continued with, "It's easier and less awkward to get off on stage."

Rachel didn't really need to hear that, and she hides her face to not let her displeasure at the thought of other people seeing Santana like this show and removes the offending article and tosses it across the room for good measure. Rachel's breath is taken away at the sight of Santana's bare chest and immediately she begins to suck on and lick the ample skin of her breasts, kneading the mounds of perfectly tanned flesh in her hands and scraped her palms against Santana's already hard nipples. "Mmm..." Rachel moans out, "You taste how you look..."

Santana's brow furrows, "And hows that? Delightful? Like a dream?" She jokes.

"No," Rachel says, "like caramel." Santana would have blushed if she wasn't so tan-skinned. "Now help me with your skirt so I can see if the rest of you taste like caramel to."

Santana reaches behind her and finds the zipper on the back of her skirt and pulls it down slowly. When the fabric of the skirt gives enough, Rachel yanks it down Santana's stocking-covered legs. Rachel turns the girl around and pushes her down to sit her on the vanity while she works on getting the spanks off of her. When Santana is fully seated on the counter top and her spanks are dangling off of her ankle Rachel leans back on her haunches and just looks up at Santana. "You're beautiful," she says tenderly, sliding her hands between her thighs to open her up more.

Rachel ducked her head quickly to take a long lick up Santana's dripping, glistening sex. "Mmm..." Rachel moans, responding to the glorious taste of Santana.

"Well..." Santana begins, "Do I still taste like caramel?"

"No..." Rachel says, "It's spicier. More like Brown Sugar." Rachel says, smirking before disappearing between Santana's legs again. She begins to lap at her vigorously until Santana begins to moan and rock her hips. Rachel slows and holds Santana's legs apart so they don't clamp around her head. When Santana begins to pull on Rachel's hair she begins to lick more, faster, and with more fervor, enjoying the reaction of pure ecstasy she seems to drawn out of the Latina.

"Use... mmm... use your f-fingers..." Santana moans out.

Rachel complies, removing her right hand from Santana's thigh and inserting her first two fingers. She thrusts in and out, slowly at first, but when Santana rocks her hips, silently asking for more, Rachel begins to go faster. Santana begins to moan loudly and thrash around on top of the vanity, making the mirror bang against the wall behind it to a rhythmic beat that is masked by any outside of the room by the pounding bass of the music in the club.

"R-Rachel... I'm s-so close... More... please, more!"

Rachel complies by curling her fingers back and forth inside Santana and thrusting them more rapidly. Rachel begins to suck hard at the swollen bundle of nerves on top of Santana's sex until she hears the Latina begin to scream her release. Rachel removes her fingers and licks up the remaining wetness from Santana's pussy and gives it one last kiss before standing back up and facing Santana. She holds out her fingers and brushes them lightly against Santana's lips until the girl opens her mouth and sucks them in, tasting herself.

"See? Brown Sugar," Rachel says with a coy smile. Santana smiles back at her and Rachel removes her fingers. "Come home with me? Let me take you away from here," Rachel says. Santana says nothing in response, she just gets off the vanity and begins to dress in her street clothes, getting ready to leave with Rachel.

EndNote: So... should I write a second chapter? I was thinking the morning after, but I don't know. Let me know in your reviews! 3