Chapter 11
"Le voy a matar!" Santana Lopez fumed. "Si él piense que se puede amenácerte – a amenácer una amiga de mia - sin consecuencia, él no conoce Santana López!"
Rachel had been listening to the angry Latina rant for a good hour now, alternating between English and Spanish (and Spanglish), and, as much as she appreciated her concern, Rachel just wanted to go to sleep and pretend this day never happened.
Rachel had been in the kitchen preparing some chamomile tea when she heard the living room window shatter, quickly followed by the sound of screeching tires. Rachel immediately ran up the kitchen stairs into her room, locking the door. She then hurried grabbed her cell phone and into her bathroom, once again locking the door behind her. After dialing 911 and informing the operator of her emergency, Rachel hung up and dialed Noah Puckerman's number. Pick up, pick up, pick up, she muttered. Nothing. She tried again; still no answer. She tried his house. Nothing. After another three attempts, Rachel decided that if she couldn't reach Puck her best alternative would be Santana Lopez. The Cheerio picked up after two rings.
"Yeah?"
"Oh thank god," Rachel let out relieved.
"Hello?" Santana was unaware Rachel had her number.
"Santana, it's Rachel. Rachel Berry," she added as if the Cheerio wouldn't recognize her voice.
"Berry? What do you want? Who gave you my number?" Yes, Santana was trying to be nicer to Rachel ever since the swastika incident, that didn't mean she was going to transform into a care bear over night; Rome wasn't built in a day.
"I'm so sorry to bother you Santana, especially on a school night, but Noah wasn't answering," she rushed out, "And something just happened; and, even though I called the police, I would really like to be with someone I know right now."
"The police!" If Rachel's panicked tone wasn't enough to alert the Latina her mention of the cops was.
"Yes, I believe someone just threw something through my window. I'm not really sure what; I've locked myself in the bathroom."
"I'm coming over now. Give me your address." Rachel quickly informed the girl of where she lived. She then gave a surprised shriek when she heard the doorbell.
"What? What's happening?" Santana yelled back seriously terrified. Upon realizing it was the police assistance she had requested earlier, Rachel took a steadying breath.
"I'm sorry Santana, the police are at my door. I'm a little on edge. I have to go now."
"Rachel," Santana said before she could hang up, "It's gonna be okay." Rachel nodded even though Santana couldn't see.
"Thank you Santana." With that the two ended the conversation. Rachel cautiously made her way to the first floor to open the door for the police.
Back at the Lopez household, Santana was pacing around her room, muttering various threats, all aimed at Thomas Harding.
"Voy a empujar la pie tan profundamente en su culo que chupará los dedos del pie hasta la graduación!" Rachel decided if either of them wanted to be of any use during glee rehearsals tomorrow they would need to get some sleep.
"Santana, I think it's time for us to get to bed. I don't want to upset your parents after they graciously offered their home to me for the night." Realizing the smaller girl was exhausted, Santana decided she'd put a moratorium on planning Harding's violent and gruesome demise until morning.
"Fine. But tomorrow I'm gonna skewer that boy, ass to face." Blocking that lovely image from her head, Rachel just nodded and walked over to the right side of the bed.
"Are you sure this is okay?" Rachel asked, "I told you I wouldn't mind taking the floor." Santana just rolled her eyes.
"Shut up Berry and get in," Santana said as she switched the lights off, "I wants to get my sleep on." Choosing not to comment on the grammatical mistakes behind the sentence, Rachel simply slid under the covers and was instantly asleep.
When Santana heard Rachel's breath even out she quietly grabbed her cell phone, texting Puck that she was taking the hobbit to school tomorrow. Rachel had begged her not to call the boy and inform him of what had transpired outside her house, promising her that she'd tell him tomorrow along with Sue and Principal Figgins – the cops on the scene had radioed the detectives handling the case so they were already aware that Rachel's house had been attacked. Santana eventually agreed, but she figured that if Puck drove to Rachel's house in the morning to find it empty and the window covered in yellow 'Do Not Cross: Crime Seen" tape he'd have a heart attack.
Why? Puck texted back.
Because I'm treating her to breakfast so that she helps me cram for a history quiz. Rachel wasn't the only girl who could lie on a dime.
Get me a bagel. He replied
Fuck U.
U wish, Satan
No u wish.
With that the two teens ended their voice-less conversation.
Rachel woke up in the morning a bit confused as to where she was as well as she seemed to be weighted down. Everything that had transpired the night before came back to her when she saw Santana's hand and leg draped over her – apparently the Latina liked to cuddle.
Although it felt rather nice to wake up with someone holding her, even if that someone was Santana Lopez, Rachel carefully freed herself from the girl's embrace and sat up, hanging her legs off to the side of the cheerleader's queen bed. Looking at her phone she realized they only had an hour to get shower, eat, and get to school. She also saw a text from Noah telling her that he wanted a bagel with cream cheese. Setting her confusion and phone aside, Rachel looked back at her bedmate and gently tried to rouse her.
"Santana," she said softly, "Santana." The sleeping girl's face scrunched.
"Nooo. Five minutes." Rachel giggled lightly. Had she of had this image of Santana earlier in her high school career, she doubted she would have feared the tan cheerleader as much as she had.
"Santana," she tried again, "We're going to be late to school." Realizing it wasn't Stephanie, her step-mother, who was trying to wake her up, Santana's eyes flew open.
"Berry? Wha…" Then Santana remembered Rachel had spent the night along with why she had spent the night. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Santana asked if she had slept all right. To which Rachel replied yes and thanked the girl once again for letting her stay over.
"Oh, would you happen to know why Noah randomly asked me for a bagel with cream cheese?" Santana explained why the boy would make such an outwardly odd request.
As the two hastily prepped for school and made a quick stop at the Lima Bean for some breakfast to go, Rachel found that Santana could be quite an affectionate person; she definitely did not seem to grasp or recognize the concept of personal space. Santana knew Rachel probably woke up in her arms; the Latina had been told on numerous occasions that she was a sleep cuddler and Santana remembered that in her dreams last night the smell of vanilla – the smell of Rachel's shampoo – had been all around her, leading the girl to assume she had most likely been nuzzled up close to Rachel's hair.
"And one bagel with cream cheese please." Santana heard Rachel finish up her order.
"Are you seriously buying Puck breakfast?" Santana knew a girl as small as Rachel would not be ordering a fruit cup and a bagel just for herself. She also knew a vegan would not be ordering cream cheese.
"He did ask," Rachel tried to defend herself, "And he probably will not eat anything at home seeing as he expects us to get him breakfast." Santana rolled her eyes. Once the barista finished up their orders, the two girls headed back to the car and drove to McKinley.
A/n: If anyone watches Buffy then picture Rachel and Santana's relationship a bit like Willow and Evil Vampire Willow's (hands! hands!) It's short I know but I wanted to make sure I got something out today just in case I actually decide to study - unlikely but still…