Time jump. For clarification, I don't hate Finn or Quinn, but for the sake of the story, I do.
D19
Santana slept at home the week before they were due back at school. Her father wanted to spend some time with her before she unofficially moved into Casa de Chaos. It was a good week. By the time Monday morning came around, Santana had packed up her brand-new SUV with some boxes and hugged her father tightly. He'd kissed the top of her head and laughed under his breath.
"I can't believe you're moving out," he said.
"Me either."
"Are you happy?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you happy? With her, I mean."
"Yes, I am. Very happy. Extremely. Disgustingly so," she sighed. Santana brushed off her hoodie. "But at the same time, it's weird. Like, aren't we moving too fast?"
"I married your mother a month after we met."
"Fair point. Guess it's a Lopez thing." Santana looked around and shoved her hands into her sweatpants. "Are you going to be alright here? On your own?"
"You don't need to worry about me, little one. I'll be okay."
"Right. Don't forget to eat three times a day. I will show up to the hospital with your lunch if I have to."
"Gloria will keep me fed."
"Is she still… you know…"
"Unfortunately. Marvin said it'll be a minute before she's able to walk again."
"Wow." Santana hugged her father again. "I will miss you and our movie nights."
"I know, Tanny. I'll miss you too. Now go on, get to school. Call me when you're settled."
When she showed up to school, she noticed two things. One, Sam had broken up with Quinn, which meant the blonde was a terror at the ungodly time of seven-thirty a.m. Two, she was the only one at school. She had a weird feeling in her stomach. Then she noticed a familiar group of people making their way through the crowd. Santana inwardly groaned. She should've known leaving them alone would have consequences. That damn Brady Brunch came back to school looking like- like- something she couldn't think of at the moment, but she'll figure it out later.
Santana pursed her lips, closed her locker and took in the new changes. Sam had cut his hair while they were in Aruba and decided not to shave which left a little stubble on his jaw. He looked like a cowboy with his leather boots and button up shirt tucked into his skinny jeans. Puck, on the other hand, looked like Bender from the Breakfast Club minus the, uh, hair. She barely glanced at Brittany, knowing the red, thigh high boots, leather pants, and black turtleneck sweater were tame considering her best friend had a penchant for wearing things that were close to indecent. Puck pushed some random kid into a locker who stared too hard at Brittany. It was sweet, a little aggressive, but sweet.
It was Rachel, however, that held the attention of everyone in the school. Santana specifically remembered dying Rachel's hair black, which technically, was her natural hair color, but the red streaks were new. Naturally, the colors looked good on her. On top of that, she'd gone and put on a black and white, checkered suit that was tailored perfectly. Santana thought she looked like walking sex.
Her thoughts went down a different path, and she blushed when Rachel gave her a knowing smile. Rachel backed her into the locker when she got close enough to do so.
"Koroleva," she greeted. Rachel shoved her hands into her pockets. "I missed you last night."
"I missed you too. My father made me sit through Pretty in Pink because he wanted our last memory together in the house to be a good one. It was my Mom's favorite movie that we both hated."
"Are you sure you're okay with this? It's a pretty big step. And fast."
Santana brushed her thumb across Rachel's bottom lip and smiled sweetly. "My Dad married my Mom a month after they met. If anything, we're moving too slow. And I'm sure. This is a big step, yes, but I'm excited for it. I'm really, really looking forward to being with you morning, noon, and night," she said.
There was a sudden silence in the hall, and Santana instinctively pushed Rachel behind her only to get hit with two cups of slushy. She shivered as the ice dripped down her face. The coldness seeped through her clothes, and she knew there would be a stain. She swiped at the liquid around her eyes and glared at the two jocks laughing in front of her. She didn't recognize them, which meant Quinn was using freshman or sophomores to do her bidding.
"Are you okay?" Rachel asked. "Like did it get in your eyes or anything? Oh, fuck. I left my shampoo at home."
"Baby, I'm fine."
Rachel huffed and attempted to wipe off the slushy with her jacket sleeve, but Santana wouldn't let her. She pushed her aside and slid off her hoodie. She used it to wipe off the remaining liquid and removed her hair from the ponytail. In the back of her mind, she was running through her options. The liquid definitely went through her uniform and Sue would not let her walk around like that. Maybe she had a spare set of clothes in her car. While she was making her plans, Puck stepped forward.
"Bad move, McKenzie, Harris," he said. "You two will be running laps for the rest of the year."
Santana glanced up and frowned. She'd heard those names before.
"Fuck you, Puckerman!"
"Yeah, you aren't even the captain!"
"No, but I am." Sam folded his arms against his chest. "As of today, you two will run laps before and after practice for the rest of the year and don't even think about going to Coach because I'm sure she'll love to hear all about how you slushied the co-captain of the Cheerios."
"If anything, you idiots should be more concerned with Coach Sue, as you've ruined one of her winter uniforms. And we all remember how much those cost, right?" Brittany added.
The jocks paled and dropped the cups to the floor. Santana, with her purple stained face, approached them. "Unless, of course, you explain to everyone in this hallway why you came over here in the first place?" she said.
The taller one, McKenzie, answered, "I'm not scared of a couple of laps, and I'm not scared of you, Santana Lopez, aka Easy Rider. You're well known in the boy's locker room. But some rumors went out about you over the break, and I was blown that a girl like you, who sleeps with anyone and everyone, decided to go off and sleep with the reject spawn of Liberace and Elton John? Disgusting. Harris and I figured you needed a little wakeup call. Shock you out of your abnormal behavior."
Harris and McKenzie were the only ones to laugh. Not even the other jocks in the hall smiled.
"There's a reason I don't get slushied. But for you and anyone else in this hallway who thinks this is a good idea, a bit of a fair warning. If you plan on throwing another slushy in my face, pick a different flavor because," she stopped and reared back her arm, "purple really isn't my color."
McKenzie's nose broke on impact. He hunched over in pain. Harris swung a wild punch that Santana easily dodged. She kneed him in the groan and swiped out his legs. He hit the floor and curled into the fetal position. McKenzie recovered and tried to make a grab for her. She stepped to the side and brought his elbow down on his head. She managed to control her hit just enough that he fell to the floor dazed but conscious. Santana turned her attention on Harris. She nudged him onto his back and kneeled beside him.
"We both know you two are not smart enough to come up with this on your own. You're puppets. Now tell me who the puppet master is."
"Screw you," he groaned.
"Wrong answer." Santana stood up. She lightly placed her shoe over his crotch. "You only get one more chance. Who sent you the order?"
He still refused to answer. Santana stomped down. Harris screamed.
"Quinn! It was Quinn!"
Santana moved away and let him roll back into his fetal position. McKenzie had regained some form of awareness and was climbing to his feet. Santana grabbed him by his collar and threw him into the lockers. She brought her arm to his throat and smiled. She spoke loud enough for the entire hallway to hear, "Let me make something explicitly clear. Quinn Fabray does not make the rules around here. Sure, she sounds scary, but trust me when I say her bark is worse than her bite. As for me, well, I'm the real head bitch of this school. And if any of you half-minded, imbecilic, backwoods motherfuckers disrespect me or my girlfriend again, I'll make your life a living hell until the point is made."
Santana released McKenzie and turned into the crowd. She spotted Quinn and narrowed her eyes. The blonde's glare would've scared anyone else, but it made Santana smile. Quinn turned and left with two Cheerios flocked at her side. Guess she found her and Brittany's replacements. Harris and McKenzie disappeared into the crowd. Sam and Puck shared a look before they went after them.
"Rachel, I need you to find Coach Sue and tell her what happened," Santana said.
"Um, okay?"
"Thank you." Santana kissed her on the lips. "Love you."
"You taste like grapes," Rachel murmured.
Santana rolled her eyes and walked off. She took her hoodie from Brittany, not even remembering when she dropped it, and made her way to the parking lot. She had about twenty minutes to change and get to class. Hopefully, Sue could work some magic and get her a pass. She heard footsteps and slowed just enough for Brittany to catch up with her.
"Quinn's going to be pissed," the blonde said. "So is Sue, and you best believe Figgins is going to get involved."
"I'll apologize to Sue after I change. Quinn can kiss my ass. And Figgins won't do anything."
Brittany stopped their progress. She squeezed Santana's arm and said, "I've missed you."
"I just needed a reason to show off a bit. Guess you can say I found my reason." Santana tugged at her top. "Now, come on. This is sticky and I don't like being sticky."
"Unless it's Rachel."
"Ew, Britt. That's fucking gross."
Rachel poked at the green and brown glob on her plate, trying to figure out how they could pass that off as meatloaf, and eventually gave up, pushing the mess to the middle of the table. Sam and Brittany long gave up on their food, nursing their chips from the vending machine, and Puck was too busy working on his history homework to eat. The only person missing, surprisingly enough, was Santana.
"Are you sure she was in class earlier?" she asked Brittany. Again.
"Yep. She had that meeting with Figgins once she changed. She was back before the end of the period. I heard a rumor the two boys are being suspended."
"Where was Tesla born?" Puck asked.
"Croatia," Rachel said.
"I just want to know what Santana said to Figgins to get him to suspend them." Sam crumpled up his chip bag. "Actually, you know what? No, I don't."
"Santana's always had something over Figgins," Brittany said. "She almost always gets away with certain stuff. I remember she took some kid's crutches and threw them in the dumpster after he asked if she had her green card. Figgins gave her a warning and sent her on her way."
"Did you guys know she's twenty?" Sam asked.
"Yes," Puck, Rachel and Brittany replied.
"It's not something we talk about at school," Brittany added.
"Oh, that's not why I mentioned it. Quinn's going around telling people Santana's been held back, and she keeps texting me-
"Wait, I thought you blocked her?"
"She apparently has two phones." Sam turned to Puck. "And it's getting really annoying. I mean, really, what else can I do to get her to back off? I'm not interested in being with her anymore."
"Tell her you're gay."
"Normally, I'd be offended you jumped to such a conclusion, but as I am bisexual, it might work."
"Then it'll get around the school."
"At this point, I'm desperate."
"Obviously not enough to take Quinn back."
"Nice."
Rachel ignored them. She looked around, trying to spot her girlfriend, and was hit with a strong, familiar scent. She froze, her head spinning and her eyes wide. The smell grew closer, and she closed her eyes.
"Good morning, angel."
"Hi, Papa!"
A younger Rachel climbed on top of a kitchen chair, her hair down to her lower back, and she smiled toothily. A bowl of her favorite soup appeared in front of her, and she clapped excitedly.
"Shee-shee!" she exclaimed.
Her papa chuckled, and ruffled her hair, sitting in the seat opposite of her. "Shchi, angel, not shee-shee," he corrected.
"Das what I said!" she huffed, picking up her spoon.
"Of course," he said. "My apologies, malyshka."
"S'ok, Papa. I still love you!'
Her papa bent down and kissed her forehead, and the memory faded back into the depths of her mind.
She opened her eyes, coming face-to-face with a worried Santana, and Rachel quickly wiped at her cheeks.
"Hey, are you okay?" Santana asked.
"Yes, I'm fine. I," she stopped and cleared her throat, "I thought I smelled something familiar. It's nothing."
"Uh, I wouldn't say it's nothing." Santana gestured down to the table. "I brought you lunch. Sorry it took so long. I think Mrs. Gordon stole my ladle."
"It's hard to believe this is the same girl who ended the Harris family line this morning," Sam said.
Rachel stared down at the steaming bowl of cabbage soup. She couldn't form any words, just a bunch of sounds, and Puck had finally looked up from his homework at the silence.
"You made me Shchi?" she asked softly.
"I asked Sue the things you really enjoyed to eat, you know, to make for you on our first day back at school. It took me a bit to get the taste where I wanted, but if you don't like it-
Rachel lunged across the table and cut her off with a kiss. She pulled back just enough to whisper, "It's perfect."
Santana blushed, and she kissed her again, uncaring about the fact they were in the middle of the cafeteria. Puck poked her in the side, and Rachel reluctantly broke their kiss, tugging on Santana's bottom lip with her teeth as she did so. Santana whined at the loss, and Rachel nearly said fuck it. Instead, she sat back down and rubbed her hands together.
"I haven't had this in years."
"Santana, how did you find a decent recipe?" Sam asked, leaning forward.
Rachel flicked him in the nose and he sat back. Puck scribbled something on his homework and passed it to Brittany. While she looked it over, he asked, "What's in it?"
Santana leaned her elbow on the table and put her chin in the palm of her hand. "Potatoes, carrots, celery, and onions with sour cream on top. I put tomatoes in the first batch, but I didn't like the way it tasted, so I took them out," she said.
"You made it last night?"
"I did."
"Are you taking special requests? Because I haven't had a good Swedish meatball in ages," Sam said.
"Is that your way of asking me to make them?"
"Yes, yes it is."
"Why Swedish meatballs?"
"It's the only thing I can't find here in Lima."
Brittany passed Puck his homework back. "I'd kill for a gyro," she said. "That or some really, fresh sushi."
Half-listening to the conversation around her, Rachel was in heaven. She was back home, back with her papa, and she couldn't help but smile each time she ate some of her soup. Santana's legs tangled with hers under the table, and the warmth that spread through her body didn't come from the soup. Instead, it came from knowing that she had someone who loved her enough to go out of their way to make her feel at home. Nothing else mattered in that moment. The noise of the cafeteria faded into white noise, nothing else registering but the slight crinkle in Santana's face as she laughed with Puck and the sound of her heart beating in her ears.
Not even Quinn's heated glare that burned into the back of her head.
Not even the hushed whispers and pointing that came from the Glee table.
Rachel knew without a doubt that the love she felt for Santana was destined by something other than pure happenstance.
The group bombarded Rachel with various questions. She answered to the best of her abilities and within reason. The only person not amused was Finn.
Rachel yawned and laid her head on Santana's shoulder. "Finn, why can't you just let it go?" she asked.
"Because there's no way you're a dyke. No way."
"Don't ever call me that again. And for the record, I've been a lesbian for a very long time."
"What about all those times you were flirting with me?" he exclaimed.
"Never in my life have I flirted with you. Ever."
"Bullshit." Finn stood up. "You're trying to make me jealous, and it's stupid."
"Sit. Down."
The door swung open, breaking the stare-off between Rachel and Finn, and Mike came in with Artie. The two were mid-conversation and somehow were oblivious to the tension.
"Did you see that bike outside?" Artie asked.
"Yeah, man. I swear I've seen that symbol before. Maybe on TV or something. That red snake wrapped around the skull with the bloody fangs? That's something I shouldn't forget, but I can't remember where it's from," Mike replied.
Rachel filtered through the bike gangs her father taught her about. Red snake. Skulls. Fangs. Oh, shit. The Blood Serpents. She lifted her head and asked, "You saw one today?"
"Yeah, there's one outside."
"Shit."
"What?" Santana asked.
Rachel had the attention of the entire room so she modified her response. "That symbol belongs to the Blood Serpents. At least, I think. I used to watch documentaries about them with my Dad."
"The Blood Serpents?" Kurt repeated. "Sounds like bad news to me."
"I wonder what the hell they're doing in Lima, Ohio," Mike said.
Sue cut off their conversation when she walked into the room and pointed at Rachel. "My office. Now." Then she walked out.
"That was weird," Artie said.
Rachel sighed. "Tell Mr. Schue I'm with Coach," she said.
When Rachel got outside, Sue grabbed her elbow and led her away from the offices. She pushed open the door to an empty classroom and Rachel froze at the beefy, bearded and leather clad biker sitting in one of the seats. Sue blocked the window with her body and gestured at the biker. "Rachel, this is Wynman. Wynman, this is Rachel."
"Pleasure to finally meet you," Wynman said, standing to greet her.
"I would say the same if I knew who you were."
"Oh, right. I used to work for your Dad, Leroy." Wynman pulled an envelope out of his pocket. "This is for you."
Rachel glanced at Sue, who nodded, and Rachel took the envelope. She pried it open and pulled out a- "Is this a contract?" she asked.
"Not quite. It's more like an acknowledgement for both parties."
"Pardon?"
Wynman chuckled and scratched at his beard. "Your Dad never told you about us, did he?" he asked.
"Us as in…"
"The Serpents. We, uh, well, we're his employees."
"Start from the beginning."
"About twenty years ago, your Dad showed up in the middle of South Texas with this wild idea of having his own biker gang. I was already in charge at the tender age of twenty-seven when Leroy comes in, throws a bag full of cash on the table, and says he wants to buy my gang to transport weapons across the country. Normally, I would've had him skinned and fried for something like that. But then I realized who he was, and I told him to let me talk it over with my boys. Three days later, he comes back, and we're all on board. We signed a contract and for the last twenty years, we've been doing his bidding whenever he needed.
"He was a good man. He helped pay for Thanksgiving dinners for a lot of my men's families. He got the kids Christmas gifts, set us up with a renovator for our bar, and really just made our life much better. Two months ago, he showed up with a new contract. This one had your name on it. He told me if something happened to him, to find you, and offer our services to you. So anything you need, anything you require, just call and we'll be there."
Rachel had a flare of emotion. She inhaled and smiled shakily. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm still getting used to being without him. What exactly does this partnership entail?"
"That's up to you."
Rachel went through her options. It would be nice to have some outside help, someone loyal to her Dad. She snagged a pen off the desk and read through the contract. It was simple enough. She signed it with a flourish and handed it back to him. "I'm going to need two things from you," she said. "A copy of this contract and the account numbers for all of your men."
"Account numbers?"
"Yes."
Wynman chuckled under his breath. "I can do that, Miss Berry."
"Rachel," she corrected. "Just Rachel."
"Alright then, just Rachel. I'll leave my number and the copy with your lovely bodyguard."
"She's my Mom," Rachel said wryly.
"Even better." Wynman clapped Rachel on the shoulder. "My Dad died when I was sixteen. There ain't no type of book or pamphlet that'll ever erase that kind of loss."
Rachel inclined her head and Sue told him to wait outside. She turned back to Rachel. "Your Mom, huh?"
"Am I wrong?"
Sue smiled genuinely and left the room. Rachel put the pen back on the desk and went back to the choir room.