"Come back here- you are NOT leaving without your coat!"
Rolling her eyes, Santana didn't even bother to turn around to face her girlfriend as she continued to walk towards the front door, simply calling back to her somewhere over the direction of her shoulder.
"Yeah I am. It's not THAT cold."
"Santana, it is twenty degrees outside, the wind is blowing, and there is snow on the ground!" Rachel countered her, her tone louder than was strictly necessary and rather scandalized. She caught up to Santana from behind, taking hold of her elbow and tugging her back towards her so the other girl was facing her as she continued to lecture. "It's bad enough that you're wearing those horrible heeled boots with that skinny little heel instead of those nice sturdy ones I bought you for your birthday, the ones that offer a sensible height in heels along with proper thickness of the heel to counterbalance any slips you might encounter and also more reasonably protect your ankle from twisting should this still occur. They provide proper protection and support of your foot in various wintry weathers that New York City has to offer and they are certainly attractive in appearance as well and go with nearly every outfit if I do say so myself. I spent considerable time picking those out, Santana, and you only wear them if I make you-"
"I wore them last week without you making me…once," Santana protested, but even she knew this was not acceptable to Rachel.
Rachel didn't even bother to argue with her, simply plowing ahead where her impassioned speech to her had left off.
"As I said it is bad enough you refuse to wear appropriate shoewear in this weather, but I will certainly not allow for you to catch your death of pneumonia or perhaps hypothermia because you are simply too stubborn to properly dress for the December weather! We aren't on our parents' insurance anymore, Santana, and although your father is a doctor, he lives hours away, we wouldn't be able to afford the bills if you were to become seriously ill for the sake of fashion!"
"Oh, so it would be about the money and not your deep concern for my health and well-being that shakes you up then, is that it?" Santana lifted an amused eyebrow, chuckling, but even this didn't get a rise or provoke a flustered, apologetic response from Rachel, as she had hoped for and expected. And that more than anything told her that the other girl really was getting riled up over this, that she was taking this very seriously indeed.
"Santana, this is not a joking matter! You need to wear your coat at the very least and more reasonably you would also wear gloves, a scarf, and a hat!"
Santana looked Rachel up and down pointedly, her gaze lingering first on Rachel's large, puffy jacket, which she was wearing instead of the nice, sleek black coat that she had gotten her last year- this one, she insisted, though less visibly attractive, was also warmer and more wind resistant. She let her eyes slide to the purple wool hat jammed over her head, causing her hair to stick out with static electricity, the matching scarf knitted with snowflakes, and the little purple gloves with animals knitted on each fingertip, all the way down to the "sturdy" boots that she found so very boring. Beneath the puffy coat, she knew, were at least two likely animal print sweaters, and although Rachel might be warmer than the average desert-dweller at the moment, she also looked nowhere near how Santana herself wanted to.
"I got it covered, Rach. I'll be fine."
"Santana, you're shivering already and I saw you sniffle two minutes ago, and we haven't even left the house yet," Rachel pointed out, sighing. "If you're cold within our home, which admittedly is not exactly warm and toasty in temperature but certainly doesn't contain the rigors of New York wind and snow, then you will certainly not be fine temperature-wise to walk down its sidewalks without anything covering your arms and legs but your own skin."
"You're imagining things," Santana groaned, even as she gave an involuntary shiver which she quickly tried to hide by throwing her arms out wide, attempting to distract Rachel's all-too-sharp eyes from noticing. "Not everyone dresses like they're about to walk on foot to the North Pole to walk from their bedroom to their refrigerator."
"Firstly, I don't believe it would be a physical possibility for someone to walk from New York to the North Pole, I do believe there are various bodies of water in the way. Also the distance would take a considerable sum of years and you are certainly not properly equipped to handle the various struggles you would encounter," Rachel mused, momentarily distracted by her own mental calculations. "I suppose I could look up whether the effort has been made, but I am quite certain that even if it has, you would not do so."
"You saying you don't believe in me, Estrella?" Santana mock pouted, poking out her lip at her. She knew that this was generally a good way to further distract Rachel from the conversation at hand and to tilt the dynamics more towards her own liking- to pluck at the other girl's guilt strings. She regarded her with the most wounded look she could summon, and sure enough, Rachel started to backpedal, coming forward to look into Santana's eyes as she spoke with her earnestly.
"Oh no, Santana, I'm not saying that at all. I certainly do believe in you. I believe you can do anything you wish to as long as it's not physically impossible. But sweetie, you do have to admit that if you truly wished to walk all the way to the North Pole, you certainly could not do so in your current outfit, the eventual pain of your limbs and toes and fingers when you began to accumulate hypothermia and frostbite would be horrible and- and you are laughing at me, death from extreme cold is no laughing matter, Santana Lopez!"
"I'm sorry," Santana snickered, shaking her head as she tried and failed to stop herself. "It's just…wow, Rachel, you're so easy."
"You were attempting to distract me, but this is truly no laughing matter. If you go out there dressed like this and you get sick, then you'll want me to take care of you, you KNOW how you are when you are ill, Santana. Then because there is no one else around to care for you, all duty will by default fall onto me, and even if I take the utmost cautions to sterilize myself, then I could get sick. And if you get me sick, it could damage my voice, and you KNOW the Christmas showcase is next week, and certainly your voice will need to be utilized in your classes as well-" Rachel began to nearly rant, even as Santana continued to snicker at her, no less amused despite Rachel's obvious growing agitation.
"Rachel. Baby, you're so loaded with vitamins and vaccinations at this point it would take the black plague to take you down. You'll be fine and so will I. Let's go already, we're gonna be running late if you don't get yourself together." She looked Rachel over critically, her brow furrowing. "Is that really what you're gonna wear? Your real outfit is under all that…right?"
"Yes, this is what I am really going to wear, Santana. It's festive, and it's warm, and it's weather appropriate. As your outfit would rightfully be too, if you would only listen to me," Rachel informed her. "Santana, it's just for the walk over, you can take it all off as soon as we're at the party."
"No," Santana told her, the word flat, short, and final. She started towards the door, her hand on the doorknob as she looked back at Rachel, waiting for her to join her.
"Santana-"
"No! I'm not going out to the only Christmas party of the year we sort of halfway got an invitation to swaddled up like a freakin' burrito where no one can see this awesome dress that I spent three paychecks on!" Santana exclaimed, her voice rising slightly with her exasperation.
Rachel's mouth opened, then closed, and she shook her head, muttering to herself almost as much as to Santana. "Okay, one, that amount of money should have gone towards our rent and utilities, or towards your education, or at the very least something you can survive in if you accidentally locked yourself out of the apartment again while wearing it. Two…sweetie, again, you can take it off once we're there, and hide your coat somewhere so no one will ever know you even had it, if that is the impression you want to give off. Although why you would want to give off the impression that you are impenetrable when it comes to the cold, I have no idea."
She paused, taking steps towards Santana, and looked her directly in the eyes, her own large, soft, and pleading as she reached for Santana's hands, holding them in her own gloved ones and squeezing gently as she lowered her voice.
"Please, baby? Please wear a coat, at least? For me?"
Santana squirmed, not pulling her hands away, but trying to avert her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheeks, her cheeks flushing even as Rachel lifted her hands to her lips, kissing the back of each.
"Hey…stop it. That's not fair. Don't do the eyes…and the KISSES, come on, Rachel, how is this fair?!"
"Please…" Rachel deliberately kissed both hands again before looking back up at her, letting her lip poke out in a pout to match the puppy dog eyes. "Please, Santana?"
"Rachel Berry, I swear…" Santana grumbled, but even before she verbally relented, Rachel could see in her eyes that she was wavering. As the other girl exhaled out loud, her shoulders slumping, Rachel tried to hide a grin.
"Okay, fine, but no hat, it took me forever to straighten my hair just right. And don't you DARE try to make me hide my awesome nails in gloves."
"Thank you, dear," Rachel did smile at her now, trying not to let her expression become overly smug.
She leaned in to kiss her lips, gently at first, then a little more firmly, until Santana's eyes were bright, her smile something more like a grin when she pulled back from her.
"Damn…kiss me like that and I can guarantee I'll be warm, coat or no coat."
Both girls were smiling as Santana slipped on her coat and opened the door, gesturing for Rachel to give her her hand. And when Rachel took one of Santana's ungloved hands in both of subtly cupping it and rubbing her thumb over its back in an effort to keep it warm as they walked through it, Santana did not pull away, but instead, stepped closer, perhaps not so unconsciously seeking to share her heat.