It was always the same. Every time. The well-rehearsed, though bordering on superstitious, routine that saw her through even the toughest of matches. She didn't know exactly when she had started doing it but considering her current run of form, she was not about to stop.

A deep and calming breath to steady her nerves, two quick bounces of the ball. Pause. Visualise.

"Come on!" Rachel shouted, pumping her fist as she watched the ball fire past her opponent, the extra spin sending the other player frantically stretching out of court with no chance of stopping an ace. Rachel might have been one of the smallest tennis players on the tour but that didn't mean her serve was any less fierce. Height be damned, she had accuracy.

Stepping forward Rachel reached out her hand to high-five her partner, it might have been their first tournament together but that hadn't stopped them reaching the final. It hadn't been easy at first, her new partner was volatile at best and Rachel had been unaccustomed to dealing with such outbursts, having prided herself on maintaining a cool composure at all times. But in spite of her temper Santana Lopez was one hell of a player, it was one of the reasons Rachel had approached her to play doubles with; racquet smashing aside, Santana won points. And points meant matches.

"You know, you keep firing off aces like that and we'll be hitting the showers in no time." Santana quipped as she leant down to re-tie her shoe laces, "You're on fire today."

Rachel nodded her mouth suddenly dry as her eyes fought to avoid the way the other girl was bent over at the waist, her short skirt hitched up slightly over toned thighs and revealing almost too much flesh. She could hear wolf whistles from the crowd and clearing her throat she gestured for her towel from the ball boy, anything to distract her from the figure in front of her.

She knew her less than stealthy ogling was doing nothing to stop the rumours flying around the media about her new formed alliance with the infamous Lopez. The newspapers were still having a field day over the second round, where distracted by the thought of her partner's abs she had stumbled over her own feet during the change of ends and found herself tripping and falling into a bemused Santana's lap. Those pictures had graced the front cover of more than one gossip magazine.

Resetting herself at the service line Rachel found her eyes drifting up from the court, her grip tightening on the handle of her racquet as she was met with the sight of Santana's toned behind once more. She was swaying now, shifting her weight from one foot to the other while she flicked the racquet in her hands, Rachel could imagine the fierce determined glint in Santana's eye as she stared down their opponents.

The sound of the chair umpires voice ringing around the ground broke Rachel from her increasingly frustrated thoughts, "Miss Berry to service. First service."

Trying to hide her distraction, she was thankful to not be receiving a time violation, so shaking her head to clear her thoughts she took that deep, calming breath. Then paused, visualised the ball whipping through the air before taking aim. She hit the ball solidly, the satisfying clunk as it came off her strings ringing through the air but unlike before, it fell short. The opposing player wasted no time in taking advantage of the less than stellar serve and fired back a strong forehand pushing Rachel back well past the baseline and out of her comfort zone, sliding across the surface she managed to push the ball back as her feet gave way causing her to crash to the floor. She didn't even have time to spring to her feet as she heard a resounding cheer blast out around her. Lifting her head from the hard court beneath her Rachel laughed as she watched a beaming Santana jogging towards her.

"No, that's fine." Santana joked as she reached out a hand to pull the smaller girl to her feet, "You enjoy your nap and I'll fire home the smashes."

Grasping the extended hand Rachel hoisted herself to her feet, she hadn't been expecting Santana to tug her with so much force though and stumbling over she found herself falling into the other girl's arms. She could hear the laughter floating down from the crowd and trying to hide her blush she giggled, her hands playfully shoving Santana away.

"You know…." Santana drawled as she bent down to pick up Rachel's discarded racquet, "If you want to cop a feel, you only have to ask." Shooting her partner a wink Santana jogged back to the net, her ass swinging much more than was necessary.

In an attempt to move on swiftly from her minor faux-pa and to try and ignore the sudden breathlessness that had nothing to do with her fall or tennis, Rachel marched back to the service line. She cast a glance at the score board, 40-15 and Championship point, but before she could contemplate her next move her attention was drawn back to her partner, her partner who was currently mouthing off at her opponent at the net. Rachel knew Santana had a history with the other girl, a history that mostly involved Santana crushing her in big matches but that didn't seem to stop Santana from making whatever snide remark she just shot over the net.

"Lopez!" Rachel barked, trying to draw her partners attention away from a verbal sparring match right in from of the umpire and stadium full of fans, "Santana, get over here." She watched as the girl turned and shooting her opponent a final glare, jogged back to the baseline.

Santana stopped short of Rachel, one hand on her hip as she gestured with her racquet, "If you want to aim for her head, that's fine with me."

"Just focus on the game." Rachel berated, "We can't afford to-"

"I'm not going to let her talk shit about you like that." Santana barked, her eyes widening as she glanced around at the spectators. Satisfied no-one had heard her outburst she reluctantly turned back to Rachel.

Rachel blinked, she could see the umpire fidgeting in his chair but she had to ask, "What exactly did she say?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "It was stupid. She implied that I should escort you back to middle earth-"

"Really? Hobbit jokes." Rachel glared, eyes drifting away from Santana to scowl at her opponent. It was like the time in the fourth round, some lowly ranked player had made a snipe about Santana's sexuality after a particularly aggressive exchange of volleys and she had responded by firing three aces straight down the middle and breaking her fastest record service speed. Rachel frowned as she muttered, "She's going down."

Santana grinned at the ferocious glint in her partner's eyes, she could see the way the other girl was gripping her racquet so tightly her knuckles had almost turned white and she felt her own determination increase; a fired up Rachel was a force to be feared. Stepping closer to Rachel she leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "If you make this shot, she won't be the only one."

Rachel felt her jaw drop as Santana slowly eased back, her pupils dark with lust she licked her lips, but found herself unable to reply. It wasn't the first time Santana had flirted with her, on or off court, but something about the way the other girl was gazing at her made Rachel's pulse race.

Realising they were under threat of a time warning Santana jogged back to her position and crouching down to the floor she waited. She could feel Rachel's eyes almost glued to her butt and turning to glance over her shoulder she grinned, mouthing game on.

Rachel nodded her back straightening as she focused back on the court. Taking one more motivational glance at Santana she smiled and took a deep breath, two quick bounces of the ball. Visualise.