I feel like this story will be finished by the end of next week. I forgot how much I loved writing it.

Chto ty tozhe delayesh' = What are you up too?

D19

Rachel stared down at Santana, the girl fast asleep, and she smiled as she thought about earlier that evening. Santana's confession still echoed in her head and it wasn't until Sue returned did they break away from each other. Once they got home, the two disappeared into her room without stopping to talk to anyone. Santana ducked off into her bathroom while Rachel went off into her closet. Santana exited, bare faced and fang-free. She nervously asked if she could change into something of Rachel's, and Rachel swooned. Santana changed and lied down on the bed. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time. Santana learned Rachel was ticklish around her hips while Rachel discovered Santana slept with a stuffed animal. Somewhere down the line, Santana fell asleep while they were talking. Their bubble of silence was interrupted when Santana's phone rang. Santana groaned and blindly reached for her phone.

She looked at the screen and answered, "Quinn, I'm not in the mood."

She hung up and laid her head back down. Rachel snickered and checked her own phone. She stretched back and picked it up off the nightstand. She clicked it on and nudged Santana.

"What do you want?" Santana whined.

"Turn around."

Santana flopped until she was facing Rachel, and she stared at her expectantly.

"And they say I'm difficult when I wake up."

"You better have a good reason for keeping me from going back to sleep."

Rachel snorted and said, "I was just going to tell you I have missed calls from everyone in glee. They even left a ton of voicemails and several text messages. Even Mr. Schue and Mike reached out."

"How wonderful," Santana drawled.

Rachel bent down and slowly kissed her on the lips. Santana smiled into the kiss and ran her fingers down Rachel's hips. Rachel yelped and tried to pull away, but Santana had a hard grip on her waist.

"Quit it!" she laughed.

"Hell no. You woke me up. This is punishment." Santana continued to tickle her. "Tell me you're sorry."

"Never!"

Santana flipped over until she was on top. Rachel's laughs turned into squeals. "Come on," she said. "Say it."

"Okay! Okay. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry…?"

"Ugh. I'm sorry," Rachel paused and smirked wickedly, "Daddy."

Santana froze. Rachel switched their positions and pinned Santana down on the bed. "I knew it," she whispered.

"Knew what?" Santana grumbled. Her face was flushed and she couldn't look Rachel in the eyes.

"I had a feeling you would react strongly to that. It was either that or Papi."

Santana's eyes widened and she said, "Do not call me that in public."

"Why?"

"Don't make me say it."

Rachel leaned down and bit Santana's bottom lip. She tugged it with her teeth and released it with a pop. "Say it," she whispered.

"Because it's a turn on," Santana exhaled. "But only with you."

Rachel giggled and rolled off to the side. She propped her head and smiled. "I'll behave," she said. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"I think so."

"What did you mean when you said you stayed because of me?"

"Huh?"

"That night you were drunk, you said I was the reason you stayed. What did you mean?"

"Oh. That." Santana grimaced and played with her fingers. "Do you remember when I left for winter break earlier sophomore year?" she asked.

Rachel nodded.

"I went to Tuscany to participate in an international F-Class."

"What's that?" Rachel interrupted.

"F-Class is a long-range, high-power rifle competition. They have one in the States, but this one was International and, uh, sponsored by the kind of people who like their privacy. It was for anyone aged 13 and up. I was one of the youngest there, and the only American. I was pretty much the one they assumed would get eliminated in the 300-yard round. But I wasn't. I went to the very end. It was me and some guy from Finland in the final round. I managed to pull it off. I won the entire thing with high scores in every category. At the end of competition gala, one of the judges offered me a job within his organization to train as one of his long-range guards. I'd basically be someone who shot at threats from a distance.

"It was good money too and a fantastic opportunity, but there were many reasons for me to turn it down. One, I would have to move to Norway full-time, and I wouldn't be able to tell anyone why I was leaving. Contractual obligations and what not. Two, I would have to 'die' and live in the shadows. I couldn't do that to my father, not after Mom and Romeo. And three, I would miss my friends, mostly Brittany, and Puck to some extent, but there was one person I would miss the most. Like I said, I've been into you for a long time. When the judge offered me the job, I couldn't imagine not seeing you anymore. Sure, I didn't think we'd ever be together or be anything more than classmates, but I couldn't risk never seeing you again, not without at least telling you how I feel. So, I turned him down."

"You turned down a dream job for me?"

"I never said it was a dream job, and I'm pretty sure I listed two other reasons why I didn't take the job. But yeah, sure."

"You expect me to believe that?" Rachel asked, in disbelief. "You may not have tortured me, but you sure as hell didn't make my life easy. You called me names and even threw a few slushies in my face. And now you expect me to believe you got the opportunity of a lifetime and you said no because of some crush? Bullshit."

Santana narrowed her eyes. "Do you even realize I stopped doing that almost two years ago? Or are you so accustomed to me being a bitch and a bully you assumed I was behind most of it if Quinn wasn't around?" she hissed.

Rachel felt guilty for throwing that back in her face. She worded her response carefully, "I'm sorry. I'm still having a hard time believing you actually like me. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, and that Quinn is going to pop up and tell me how much of an idiot I am for thinking a girl like you could-

Santana rolled over on top of Rachel and clamped a hand over her mouth. "If you finish that sentence, I will get up and leave this bed," she warned. "This isn't a movie, and we're not some romantic comedy duo caught up in the highs and lows of high school. I'm an award-winning, internationally known sharp-shooter who has lost both a mother and a brother to gun violence. I'm also a lesbian in a small town where being gay is almost as bad as being Hispanic. I can't even begin to explain the shit my father and I go through behind closed doors in this backward-thinking wasteland. You are the daughter of not one, but two mercenaries, both of whom were responsible for the death of so many different men and women that I'm sure the various governments lost count. You're also the sole heir of a family with ties to three different Russian mobs. Yes, I did my research on your last name. So cut the shit. A girl like me can fall for a girl like you because we're not like other girls.

"In addition to everything I said earlier, you, Rachel Eva Krayevsky, get on my nerves like the best of them. You make me want to slap the fuck out of you most days. You're stubborn, emotionally volatile, and I know you have a temper, I can see it lurking in your eyes when you get irritated or frustrated, but you're sweet when you want to be. Your heart is as big as your ego, and you never let anyone you care about get hurt. You make me feel safe, and I don't feel like I have to keep secrets around you. I can be me with no exceptions or excuses, and you have no idea how much that means after pretending to be something I'm not for the last few years. You drive me crazy in both a good and a bad way. So, yes, Rachel, I turned down a damn job for you, and if you still don't believe me, then we can chalk the last few weeks up to temporary insanity on my part."

When she didn't immediately respond, Santana scoffed and was halfway off the bed when Rachel reached out and tugged her back on the mattress. That time, Rachel was the one who was on top. They stared at one another, one irritated and the other annoyed, and Rachel clicked her tongue against her teeth.

"You are as frustrating as I thought you would be," she said. "And you will have to excuse me because even this daughter of two mercenaries gets insecure when it comes to love. I could never get close to a girl because I was afraid she would run once she discovered what all I could do, what all I have seen, and the type of person that I am. And, since you are not like other girls, I can be honest with who I am because I trust you. Plus, I know you understand the other side of life. Your father patches up thieves, serial killers, spies, and mercenaries as a hobby for fuck's sake. Oh yeah, I've done my research too. But beyond all of that, you are more than I could have ever dreamed. You are my weakness and my strength, and I could continue but if I started to list the things I love about you we would be up for the rest of the night."

Santana peeled Rachel's hand away from her mouth and flipped them back over. "I love you too," she said. "Even if you are an asshole."

"You're an asshole too."

"Are you my girlfriend?"

"Hell no."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're have to take me on a date first."

"Jesus," Santana said, exasperated. "Fine. Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow afternoon?"

"I'll have to check my schedule."

Santana pinched Rachel in the hip and Rachel slapped her on the cheek. Santana gaped at her. She then bent down and bit Rachel's neck hard enough to draw blood. Rachel moaned and arched off the bed. Santana licked away the blood and straddled Rachel's waist. She sat up and stared down at her.

"You done being a smart ass?" she asked.

Rachel's chest rose with each breath. "You can't do shit like that," she groaned.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm trying to stand by my not fucking you until after the first date rule."

"Pity."

Santana's phone vibrated again. She used her finger to keep Rachel in place as she reached over and grabbed it. She answered, "Hola papá. Qué pasa?"

Rachel ran her hands up and down Santana's thighs, massaging and squeezing with each motion.

"Shit. Eso es hoy?" Santana frowned and rubbed her temples. "Lo siento, papá. Estaré ahi pronto. Si… Si. Okay. Adiós."

Santana hung up and smiled apologetically. "I have to go," she said. "I forgot I was supposed to go with my Dad to some birthday dinner for his coworker."

Rachel pouted but nodded. "I understand," she said.

"Don't do that." Santana bent down and kissed her on the cheek. "Is it okay if I come back tonight?"

"It's more than okay. Just text me or Brittany. We'll come get you."

Santana grinned and slid off the bed. She forewent changing out of her clothes. Instead, she grabbed her wallet and phone, kissed Rachel again and ran out of the room. Before she closed the door, Rachel heard her yell for Puck or Sam. Rachel threw an arm over her face and failed to keep the goofy smile off her face.

Brittany ran up the stairs two at a time. She banged on the door. It took less than a few seconds for Rachel to yank the door open. Brittany didn't give her a chance to talk. ""Three of the traps set near the perimeter of the North Wing just went off. Cameras show there's a group of men sneaking up the property."

"Give me a few minutes to change," Rachel said. "And see if Puck can be on ride duty for Santana tonight. Make sure she knows."

"Okay."

Brittany wasn't even offended when the door slammed shut in her face. She turned and ran back down the stairs.

Rachel came down the stairs in an all-black suit and her black wig. She'd also removed her contacts again and was still tying her tie. "Do we know who they are yet?" she asked.

"All we can see is that they're connected to your father."

"Which one?"

"The Russian one," she said.

Rachel frowned and looked at the security footage. Sam froze the screen and zoomed in on their outfits. She recognized the crest and sighed, "Dammit. Those are Olezka's men."

"Who?"

"My Uncle," she huffed. "I should have known my Dad would keep in contact with him."

"Why are they sneaking up on the property?"

"No idea." Rachel chewed on her lip. "Turn of the traps."

"All of them?"

"Just the ones by the North Wing. I want this on my terms, and I would be more comfortable if they were in my backyard and not in the woods. Make sure they know we know they're here."

Brittany nodded and went off to do as she asked. Sam turned in his chair when she called his name.

"Call up about five guards to the main house. Tell them to come armed."

Sam picked up the phone and called down to the guard house. Rachel stared at the images. Why was Olezka sending men to her compound? Six men at that. Surely he'd have to know the place was well-guarded.

"Chto ty tozhe delayesh'?" she murmured.