Fic: Santana's Christmas Story
Chapter 1: A Wonderful Life
Author: deeha
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

Summary: Santana thinks she is living the high life with all the fame and money she has. But a glimpse into what Christmas is all about, might just change her mind.

Night Before Christmas Eve

"Hey aren't you on that reality show? You're the hot one right?"

Santana smiles at the pretty young blonde. Being approached at a club isn't new, and flirting with a girl is certainly not old, at least for this particular socialite. Santana was "discovered" in New York when she was visiting Kurt and Rachel. The show's producer said "I like your look." He put her on television and as soon as she was on screen, all of America understood the word "wanky."

If getting recognized by people isn't a turn on, the $88,000 an episode is. But if that didn't turn you on, the women, the many women, who wanted to sleep with you, definitely worked for Santana.

Santana Lopez loves her life...

Christmas Eve

"Wake up. Oh my God. Wake up."

Santana can hear Quinn Fabray, but is choosing to ignore her. There can be no good reason why Quinn is in Santana's bedroom.

"Santana, I know you are awake. You're not snoring anymore."

"I do not snore."

"Morning. Now get out of bed, you need to get ready for the Vogue show. You can't stand Kurt up again. You promised him the support."

"I don't understand why you are here. It's the morning. I'm too rich to be awake before noon. Go away. Where is that girl I was with? Amanda?"

"You were supposed to meet me for coffee an hour ago. And Alexis, not Amanda, left because she couldn't handle my glare of disdain and utter repulsion."

"Your face is repulsive."

That earned a pillow smacked against Santana's head.

"Santana you're lifestyle is reckless and frankly disgusting. I mean, how do you know these girls are clean? These girls are practically prostitutes."

"Ok that's offensive. What did prostitutes ever do to you?"

This time Quinn chooses to ignore Santana and goes on to say, "By the way your Dad called me to see if you were coming home for Christmas."

"I have no idea why my Dad thinks you're my friend. When did that happen?"

"Since your producer decided you needed a friend on the show. And he couldn't pay enough for someone to pretend to be your friend. Apparently our hatred for one another is what viewers perceive as friendship."

"Remind me to call that bastard a bastard the next time I see him."

"I'm not your secretary or assistant. I'm trying to be your friend but you're being really difficult."

"Oh my God. Is this about the coffee? I have a Keurig in the kitchen. Go make yourself some coffee."

"You don't get it Santana."

"No I really don't. Can you leave now? I have this massive hangover and your so called seductive voice sounds more like my mother when she's pissed off."

"Aren't you tired of this partying around? It's Christmas and you're only thinking of yourself! You don't talk to your family, you barely have any friends, and I'm pretty sure you don't have that many brain cells left from all the drinking you do."

"Not everyone gets their dream life Quinn. Oh wait. This is my dream life! I'm rich. I'm famous. And I'm rich, which is worth repeating twice. Quinn I love my life."

Quinn throws up her hands, and on her way out shouts, "Fine. I'm out of here. But don't you come running to me when your life turns to crap. I hope you figure out what Christmas is. And I hope you show up for Kurt tonight. Rachel is going to perform too."

Santana rolls her eyes and falls back asleep. It was Quinn who didn't get it.

Like clockwork, Santana is up at noon and ready to go shopping. Christmas eve, a day to spend money on the person she loved the most. Herself.

It didn't even matter what store she ended up in, she would find something. Shoes, dresses, jewelry, handbags, even Christmas ornaments for the tree she didn't have, Santana would buy it. Her favorite thing so far in her shopping bag was a diamond encrusted bottle opener. Because well she needed it, and it was pretty.

Her cell phone kept buzzing from her Dad. Santana let it go to voice mail, she could get it later. Right now there were more important things to attend to. Like the sale at Barney's.

Even at Barney's she could meet some girl, spend some money on her, and get her phone number.

It wasn't until late in the evening when the girl (name forgotten), asked her if she was going to that Vogue show, that Santana remembered her prior obligations. But she quickly dismissed it and optioned for an evening with the girl (name still unknown).

Santana had a quick and easy line that always worked to get girls back to her place, "Hey want to go back to my place?"

Worked every time.

Christmas Eve...

"Wake up. Sex Goddess of my bedroom, and well the den, and the guest bedroom, which reminds me I need to buy new bed sheets. Christmas bed sheets! I wonder if I have a coupon to Bed, Bath and Beyond? Santana, honey...wake up."

Santana can hear this melodic voice, just talking, rambling about Christmas bed sheets. The voice doesn't sound like that girl she left Barney's with...what's her name. And what the hell are Christmas bed sheets?

More importantly...coupons, really?

It might not be safe to open her eyes. That's until she feels soft kisses on her neck.

This is a million times better than how she is normally woken up.

It can't be that bad to open her eyes, right?

Ok, she'll take the risk.

Shit.

It's Rachel Berry.