A/N: I do not own Glee nor the characters within. This was originally supposed to be a Scrap, but again, it got away from me and didn't want to be contained. Note, this will be random. And yes, a familiar plot bunny struck again. Dun dun dun.

Santana raised an eyebrow. The world had to be ending because Rachel had just drunk texted her. Santana! I forgive you for sleeping with Finn. You want to know why?

Oh, this should be good. She could care less about the apology, but she was interested in hearing Rachel's reasoning. Not that I need your apology, but whatever. Hit me.

It took over five minutes to get a text back, and when she got it, Santana could see why. Because you're smoking hot. Oh, kind of like those cigars you smoke. What do those taste like? I don't think I want to try one, for my vocal chords and lungs, but they sure make you sound so sexy. Have I ever told you how sexy you are?

Santana's eyebrows rocketed up her forehead again. Jesus. How much beer had Puck plied her with? Now she was almost disappointed she'd had to miss his party. However, before she finished replying with, No. Tell me more, her phone vibrated with another text.

You're sexy like some really spicy salsa. Full of lots of different ingredients and hot to the tongue, but delicious and not racially stereotypical as that might sound. You're just hot. Really really hot.

Oh my god. 'Racially stereotypical'. Even drunk, Rachel still had her vocabulary. And had she even misspelled anything? Quickly flipping through her texts, Santana snorted and shook her head. The girl probably obsessively read over the texts before sending them.

…Which asked the question: if Rachel had enough sobriety to proofread herself, then she'd be realizing what she was saying, right?

Hmm. Santana tapped her lower lip. Looking over at her two younger siblings who appeared to be almost asleep as the end of the movie they were watching flickered in the darkened living room, an insanely evil idea took root in her mind.

Using the correct remote controls to shut off the DVD player and TV, Santana slid off of the couch and padded over to Cesar and Mariel who were both slumped against the arms of the other couch, "Alright, c'mon you two, time to get up and get ready for bed."

"What time is it?" Cesar mumbled, dragging himself up.

What time was it? She glanced quickly at her phone and dropped it onto the coffee table, poking Mariel. "It's almost ten. C'mon. If Mamí and Papí knew I was letting you guys stay up this late, they'll kick my ass. So, up up!"

Her sister squeaked and pulled the blanket she was under over her head. "You just want us to go to bed so you can talk to your boyfriend," burbled out from the blanket.

"Excuse me?" Santana stared down at the lump, mentally crossing her arms.

"You've been texting him for the past half hour," Mariel giggled, briefly pulling the blanket down to grin cheekily at her older sister, "And now you want to be alone so you can talk dir-ty to him~"

Santana shook her head, eyes towards the ceiling. "Ay dios mio; you're full of crap," she yanked the blanket away, throwing it behind her, "And you're too young to think of that kind of stuff."

"Am not!" Mariel protested, swinging the pillow she'd been hugging at her.

Blinking at the edge of the pillow that managed to hit her face despite throwing her shoulder up to block it, Santana let out a low growl and pounced on her sister, calling out, "Cesar, grab me the pillows from the other – hah! – couch!" Laughing as Mariel squealed and twisted under her relentless tickling, Santana let out a startled protest when Cesar used the pillow she'd told him to get on her instead of Mariel. "Oy! Pendejo! Traitor!" Abandoning her sister for the moment, Santana turned and launched herself at her brother. Locking her arms around his waist, she hoisted him up so she could toss him at the sofa and onto Mariel. Smirking at their combined squawks, she swiped his abandoned pillow from the floor.

She held it threateningly in the air. "Surrender!"

"Never!" Mariel retorted dramatically, pushing hair back from her face after shoving Cesar off her legs. She reclaimed the pillow that had dropped onto the floor, looking insanely cute with her stubborn expression.

Santana moved her gaze to Cesar. "And you?"

Looking around for a weapon of his own, both Cesar and Santana realized at the same time that on the armchair about a foot away from the sofa, a perfect pillow waited for someone to scoop it up. Trying to keep her attention on both of her siblings, Santana knew she needed to get to that pillow first if she wanted to win.

With Mariel willing to cover her brother's back, Cesar looking back and forth from his older sister and the armchair, and Santana tensing for any possible attack or movement, the living room was full of vibrating expectation.

And then Cesar made a desperate lunge, Santana leaped a second later, and Mariel threw herself after, madly whipping her pillow at everything in front of her. Reaching the pillow first, Cesar tucked it solidly into his body, half-rolling, half-dropping over the other side. Catching one of his feet with her free hand, Santana grunted as her lower stomach impacted the hard arm, grunting again when a heavy pillow was repeatedly slammed into the back of her head, courtesy of her sister. Struggling to hold onto her brother and her pillow under the onslaught, she growled out, "Oh, now it's on," when Cesar twisted and added his newly acquired weapon to the attack. Pushing herself, she dropped her brother's foot, tucked her pillow into her stomach, and somersaulted backwards far enough to twist and start whacking Mariel, Cesar a second later.

A loud cleared throat and the flicking on of the living room light put an almost immediate stop to the assault. Blinking furiously to acclimate herself, Santana groaned. "And what did I tell you?" she stated loudly, dropping the pillow and taking the ones her siblings held, "No, you can't stay up, and it's off to bed for you!"

Giggling nervously, Cesar and Mariel chorused a couple of good nights to Maria and Carlos Lopez, Mariel sticking her tongue out at Santana and Cesar grinning cheekily at her before scampering out of the room.

Placing the pillows back where they came from, Santana gave her parents an innocent smile, "Hi, Mamí, Papí. How was the movie?"

"Mmhm," Maria gave her daughter a pointed look, Carlos just shaking his head with an amused look on his face. "It was fine," he offered, "A bit too mushy for my tastes."

Maria rolled her eyes. "And who was it," she gave her daughter a long-suffering look, "Who was crying at the end?"

"I had something in my eye!" Carlos protested, turning to lead his wife out of the room. Pausing to wink at Santana, he mouthed, 'keys are in the duck' before continuing, "And besides, you were the one rooting for him to end up with her in the end."

Maria allowed her husband to distract her, waiting until they were almost all the way out of the room to sign, upside down and behind her back, 'money's in the car; be responsible'. "You were too, dear, and you know it."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say."

Waiting until they were down the hall, Santana smirked widely to herself, elated at the sudden freedom, bending down to swipe her phone from the coffee table. Sending a quick text off to Puck to tell him she'd be on her way, she strode up to her room, wanting to get ready to leave as soon as she could. She still had her drunken Rachel text plans, after all.

Quickly changing into her favorite fuck me dress and pumps, reapplying her makeup and running a brush through her hair, Santana smirked at her smokin' hot reflection, grabbed her purse, fished the car keys out of the wooden duck by the front door, made the appropriate 'pretending to sneak out of the house' noises for her parents' benefit, and was off.