For clarification, just because I don't update for a while doesn't mean I've given up on this story. I'm an incredibly busy person so I write when I have the time. Please be patient with me. I do what I can when I can, promise.

"Something just isn't right, I'm telling you San." Rachel mumbled nearly inaudibly from her perch on the windowsill in her sisters room overlooking the fabulous Fabray house.

"We don't know that for sure Rachel. It could have been food dye or some shit. Maybe she was making a cake." Santana's words ghosted above Rachel's head, reminding the smaller brunette that her sister had been leaned against the wall behind her to watch the Fabray house as well. Both eyes remained fixed on the doors of the mansion as if willing the understanding they craved to tumble out of them. Both of them had remained fixed in this spot since Britney had played them a visit. Neither of them read the note, Santana just picked it up in detest and marched into their home with Rachel hot on her heals. The note had been carelessly thrown onto Santana's aquamarine bedspread, neither sisters sparing it a second glance before they hurried to the window to watch for anything really. A reappearance of Britney, a flash of Quinn or maybe even a brief glance of the parents but not a single Fabray showed their face. Much to the sisters ever growing apprehension.

"A cake? Really San? Try sounding a little more like Finn." Rachel glanced over her shoulder to see her sister glowering down at the diva.

"Watch it mini me, just 'cause I love ya doesn't mean I won't ends you like that." The Latina snapped her fingers for emphasis much to the diva's delight. Santana was certainly picking up on Rachel's theatricality and if Santana kept at it then they would be well on their way to an all Berry production Rachel had been planning since middle school. She smiled broadly thinking of forcing Santana into a musical role she just knew her sister would hate.

"Stop smiling like that. It's giving me the fucking creeps."

Rachel pouted and moved from the windowsill for the first time in 20 minutes over to the bed the note still lay on. The smaller brunette carefully avoided it, sitting herself against the carved wooden headboard a massive pile of pillows lay against. She drew her knees to her chest, hugging her slender arms around her calves and resting her chin on her kneecap to stare down at the folded piece of parchment. It had long sense dried but remnants of red still remained in the paper which was the main reason neither sister wanted to read the note. They didn't want to touch what was sure to be blood. Sure both of them had come up with hundreds of excuses as to what it really could have been but there was no denying the truth. It was blood. Not a lot to be revolting but just enough to fill them both with uneasiness. Perhaps it had been as simple as a paper cut that had dribbled onto the note. Yet Rachel couldn't seem to convince herself of this. She may have if there hadn't also been a significant amount of blood all over Britney's legs and stained into her clothes. Something just wasn't right.

"Tana…do you think…" The words trailed off, a tightness suddenly enveloping Rachel's chest at the thought of finishing that sentence.

"What?" The Latina joined her sister on the bed, sitting against the headboard resting her shoulder against Rachel's as she also began staring down at the note. The damn thing just seemed so daunting, like if they gave into their impulses to read it that something horrible would happen. Something significant that would change life as they know it. Which, in reality, was absolutely stupid considering it was just a piece of water warped college ruled paper with words written on it. What could be daunting about that?

"Do you think that the reason Britney was bleeding…or had blood on her…that…" Again Rachel trailed off. It seemed she was physically enable to complete that thought.

Santana turned her gaze to her sister, narrowing them a bit as she watched Rachel worry her plump lower lip harshly between her teeth and pull her thin brows low into deep concentration.

"Rach whatever your trying to say just come out with it would you? I'm not a mind reader, believe it or not I need complete sentences to understand what your saying."

Tender brown eyes rounded on Santana, flickering all over the Latina's face like she was looking for something. Rachel was prone to do this so Santana allowed it even though it made her uncomfortable and always had. Rachel just had this ability to look at Santana, really look at her, and find whatever she was looking for despite how well the Latina was at covering her emotions up. Santana had worked hard on building up a reputation of being a non-caring bitch born straight from hell but one look like that from Rachel told the diva all she needed to know about how Santana really felt about the situation. In this circumstance she looked and saw that Santana did in fact know what Rachel was trying to say but was silently hoping she wouldn't ask due to it being far to close to home for Santana. Because Santana knew without a shadow of a doubt why that blood was there.

"Tana." The whispered shortening of her name was all it took for Santana to let that reputation fall free from her and be replaced by the caring sister she was deep down. Softness ebbed at the small frown on her face and her brows drew low, her eyes flashing to many emotions for a single one of them to be decipherable.

"Maybe we should read the note." It was an evasion, a desperate attempt to get Rachel to stop looking into her soul and to stop pulling up dead memories buried in the past that still haunted the Latina. Rachel's frown deepened just a fraction, that being the answer she didn't want to hear. She'd seen Santana like this before, at a much younger age when Rachel had asked why she was living in that ally and she knew that if Santana had that broken look then it must be in relation to the Fabray sisters. That was enough to make the diva want to burst into tears but she didn't let herself. Instead she broke the connection with her sister to look down at the folded up paper.

"Yeah alright I suppose that would the more logical thing to do. After all, Quinn did take the time to write it."

"Yeah." And yet neither moved. Their eyes remained locked on the offensive parchment, trying to will their hands to grasp it to no avail.

"So…"

"You can do it if you want Tana."

"Oh. Okay." Still no movement. "On second thought, why don't you Rachel?"

"Me?" The diva visibly paled just thinking about slipping her nimble fingers under the creases of the fold and pulling the letter open to read it's content.

"Yeah sure. You seemed more interested in Quinn than me anyway."

Rachel whipped her head to the left, eyes wide in disbelief, "What is that suppose to mean Santana Lopez!?"

Santana scoffed, folding her arms across her chest with that familiar bitchy smirk plastered on her face, "Oh you know what that means Rachel Barbra Berry."

Rachel folded her arms across her chest in mirror image to Santana, "No, I don't believe I do Santana."

"Really? Because I think the hole you burned into the ass end of her dress with your stare could beg to differ."

The diva's eyes nearly popped out of her head and her jaw about fell from her face with how low it hung, "Don't be so crude! And for your information I did not stare at her posterior Santana, I'm not you. I have tact."

A low chuckle rumbled from low in the Latina's throat, furthering adding to Rachel's insult, "Yeah okay. Tact. What that means is you have the ability to stair at her fine ass and not get caught."

Enraged and offended beyond belief Rachel shrieked loudly and threw herself off the bed to her feet where she stomped her foot loudly and turned swiftly to storm out of the room leaving a snickering Santana in her wake. No longer than a minute after she left in a tizzy did Rachel storm back in and stand in the doorway, throwing her index finger into the air to point directly at her sister. Santana sobered the moment Rachel's delicate finger was cast in her direction yet the amused smile she had been wearing before was still firmly in place.

"How would you know if she has a 'fine ass' if you weren't looking yourself!?"

Santana gave Rachel a 'duh' look and shook her head, more low rumbling chuckles seeping between her parted lips, "Because I was looking?"

Again Rachel shrieked and stomped her foot, tanned arms returning to their folded position across her bosom in her trademark Diva Berry pout.

"Santana!"

"What?"

"Why were you staring at her posterior!?"

Santana shrugged, leaning back against he headboard with her smirk flashing, "Why wouldn't I? Barbie had a nice ass. But her sister had it going on. Britney. Hot. Hot name too. I'd so tap that in a heartbeat."

A deep red blush crept up Rachel's neck, settling in her cheeks much to Santana's amusement, "Santana, really!?"

"Oh Rachel. Stop being such a prude." Another stomp and glare.

"I am most certainly not a prude Santana Lopez!"

"Yeah sure whatever you say Berry."

"Take it back!" "I'll take it back when you admit Fabray has a nice ass."

Rachel's blush turned darker if at all possible, and her eyes began darting around the room to look at anything but Santana's smug face, "W-why would I say that? I mean, how would I even know?"

"Rachel. Please. Stop lying to yourself. We both know you were looking up and down that body because you wants all up on that shit. Do us both a favor and admit it."

"I don't have the faintest idea as to what your talking about."

"Sure okay. Whatever. . . Prude."

Rachel rounded her gaze back to Santana, narrowing her eyes to little slits and threw her finger back in her sisters direction, "Take that back!"

Santana stood to her knees on the bed and pointed a finger of her own, "No! Admit it!"

"Take it back!"

"Admit it and I will!"

"Santana, damn you, take it back now!"

"Admit you want Fabray's hands all over you and I will!"

"I do not!"

"You so do! You wants you some blondie in your-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence Santana Lopez or I'll disown you right here and now!"

"I was going to say bed!"

"You were not! Liar!"

"Oh? What did you think I was going to say Rach honey?" "First off, don't mock me Lopez! And secondly, you were not going to say bed. You were going to say something crude and vulgar like you always do."

"Two words love. Prove. It."

"I don't have to!"

"C'mon Rach! Prove it!"

"Santana Freaking Lopez! Your insufferable!"

"And sexy as hell. Thank you. I knows it."

"Ugh!" Rachel screamed rather loudly in exasperation and turned to storm out once more only to collide roughly with her fathers broad chest. The tiny brunette recoiled, grasping her nose and whining lowly in her throat as little bits of pain made her nose burn. Why couldn't her Daddy be nice and squishy like her Dad instead of rock hard? Her poor nose. Eyes closed tight to stop tears from brimming and spilling over, Rachel didn't see but rather felt her Daddy's warm hands grip her shoulders gently.

"You okay honey?" Rachel didn't answer for fear her voice might crack but instead just nodded and moved back into her fathers chest, more slowly this time. As expected his thick arms fell around her in a warm, loving embrace that she burrowed into, taking immense comfort in her Daddy's presence. Already the pain in her nose was dissipating.

"Your Father and I heard yelling. What are you two fighting about now?" Leroy paused and his face scrunched up in thought, "Rachel, did you bedazzle something of your sisters again because I know we talked to you about that."

"She better not have! I'll beat me some Diva a-"

"Santana. Watch your mouth please." Leroy leveled a fatherly look in his daughters direction to which Santana wilted under, sinking lower into the bed and folding her arms in a pout.

"Sorry Dad."

"That's alright mija." Santana grinned at Leroy's usage of the Spanish language to which her Father smiled right back at. She had spent weeks tutoring him in her native tongue so they could converse though he mostly wanted to know how to call her daughter. She was quite proud of his progress thus far.

"Daddy," Rachel picked her head up off her fathers chest to look up into his brown eyes likewise in color to hers, a her lower lip jutted out in a pout, "Santana called me a prude."

Leroy's brows furrowed lowly and he scrunched up nose, pondering what it was his daughter said and trying to find fault in it. After a minute or so of silence he couldn't find any and let out a puff of air that ruffled the hair atop Rachel's head, "I don't understand how that's bad sweetheart."

Rachel's eyes widened comically, blinking rapidity as she stared up at her Daddy in shock. In the background Santana's chuckles could be heard, driving Leroy's even lower above his eyes. He must be missing something. He was pretty sure he remembered what a prude was. So why was he getting such a negative reaction?

"Dad," Leroy picked his head up to glance over at his grinning daughter lounging on her bed, "Don't be so old. Being a prude in our generation it totally lame."

"But…why? In my day-" Another wave of chuckling from his Latina child interrupted him along with Rachel loud, drawn out sigh.

"What? What'd I say?"

"Daddy. I think you should call Dad. He's more clued into this kind of thing."

By this point Leroy's eyebrows were so low his eyes were practically closed, "What does that mean?"

"Dad. You just went all 'In my day' on us. I had a 'To Kill A Mockingbird' moment there. I could've sworn you were going to call Rachel Scout and me Jim." Rachel nodded solemnly, patting her fathers chest in a manner that was almost patronizing. By this point he was completely lost. Having teenage daughter did that a man though. With a weary sigh he shook his head and broke apart from his diva of a child and stepped back to fold his arms, allowing a formidable look to cross his face.

"Well, whatever. Santana be nice to your sister-" At this Rachel turned smug and flipped around to stick her tongue out at a glowering Santana, "-and Rachel stop antagonizing your sister." Rachel instantly deflated and it was Santana's turn to look smug, snickering under her breath. Leroy rolled his eyes. "Honestly. I get enough drama from your father, I don't need it from you two as well."

"Excuse you mister? I believe your asking for a one-way ticket to Couch Land." Leroy's mouth fell open and he began bumbled over words that just seemed to continuously fall from his maw. Behind him Hiram smirked and winked at his daughters before stepping into the room with a look of contempt, a hand on his hip and began tapping his foot.

"Hi-Hiram! Love, when did you get here?" Both his daughters began laughing quietly at his clear distress, that is until Leroy shot them both a disapproving glance. Silence reined once more but that didn't stop the sisters from sharing an amused look.

"Busted." Santana drawled in a sing song voice. Hiram's lip quirked, nearly giving way to his carefully concealed amusement but he reined it in quickly. Rachel, however, burst into high pitched bell like laughter and strode over to the bed to award her sister with a high five for such a witty remark. Leroy made a mental note to hide all the ice cream and cookies from them for at least a week. The traitors.

"Dramatic am I?" Hiram reached up to push his glasses up with the heel of his palm, narrowing his eyes slightly when his husband floundered with his words once more.

"Um…perhaps…just a little. Sometimes? But it's absolutely adorable!"

"That so?"

"Yes?"

"Was that a question? Are you not sure if I'm adorable or not?" Leroy's eyes bugged out, his mouth falling open even wider if possible.

"N-no! I mean, yes! I'm sure your adorable! That's why I married you right?"

Hiram once again pushed his glasses up dragging the silence on a bit, "So you married me because you found me adorable? And here I thought this whole time it was because you loved me."

Leroy stammered, sucking in a loud breath, and began reaching out for his husbands hands only to have the smaller of the two men take a step away from him.

"I do love you! That is why I married you!"

"Oh? But didn't you just say it's because I'm adorable? Are you lying to me now Leroy? I thought you swore you'd never lie to me?"

"W-what!? N-no I-" Suddenly Hiram broke into a peel of contagious laughter that his two daughters joined in on, interrupting Leroy who now just stood in the doorway feeling dumbfounded and definitely looking it as well.

"You…you should have seen…your face! Priceless." Hiram managed between sporadic fits of laughter, his entire frame shaking. Rachel and Santana both began nodding simultaneously in agreement with their Father since they were both laughing so hard they could hardly breath let alone talk. Leroy astonishment quickly faded into a look of annoyance directed towards each member of his family.

"Funny was that?" He got a lot of nodding as an answer, "Great. Glad that was amusing. Hiram, dear, you can go ahead and sleep on the couch tonight." With that Leroy turned swiftly and exited the room. Hiram stopped laughing but remained smiling. He turned towards his daughters and gave them a sly wink.

"Guess I'm not the only one who has a flair for dramatics huh?" That broke the teens back up into another fit of laughter to which Hiram left behind when he went to go find his husband and soothe his bruised ego in the hopes he wouldn't be on a cold couch instead of a warm bed in his husbands lovely arms.

Rachel plopped herself onto the bed beside her sister, grinning madly now that her laughter had passed. She felt Santana bump her shoulder with her own and looked over at the Latina to see the same grin on her face.

"We have the coolest parents." Rachel giggled lightly and leaned over to rest her head on her sisters shoulder, eyes dropping back to the forgotten note.

"We sure do." Though still light with the giddiness of laughter, Rachel's tone had dropped low enough that Santana could tell Rachel was back to the moody broody attitude she was in before their fathers had come in. She could guess why. Her eyes dropped to the note again, her lips pulling into a tight line similar to a grimace.

"We really should open that thing and see what Quinn said." Santana felt Rachel nod against her shoulder and snake a hand around her bicep, gripping it tightly but not tight enough to hurt.

"I know but I'm kind of scared." At this the Latina frowned and glanced down at Rachel only to see her sisters expressive face tight with worry and tension, her eyes that were trained on the note were swirling and glinting a bit in the light.

"Why?"

Rachel finally pulled her eyes away to look up at her sister, noting the protective glow emanating from the Latina and the way her body had gone stiff the way a fighters does before a fight. Inwardly Rachel smiled at the display of fierce protection, she had always found it endearing that Santana cared so much. Rachel swore she'd never understand why. She was just a loud, outspoken, obnoxious diva with little to no taste in fashion (according to Santana though Rachel found nothing wrong with her clothes) and had a tendency to do incredibly selfish things. Rachel annoyed Santana constantly to the point sometimes Santana wouldn't even talk to Rachel for days. And yet, for reasons unknown, the Latina cared about Rachel more than anyone else aside from their fathers. No matter how many times Santana assured Rachel, she would always be flabbergasted as to why Santana chose her, Rachel Barbra Berry, to be her sister. Still, she'd decided a long time ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was lucky, so very lucky, to have Santana and she'd just continue to be grateful so long as she lived.

Rachel bit down into her bottom lip to prevent tears from making an appearance and instead gripped her sisters arm tighter as she hugged it to her chest. Closing her eyes, Rachel dropped her head back onto Santana's shoulder and let out a shaky breath.

"What if….what if she's mad?"

"What are you talking about Mini Me?" The puzzlement was clear enough in Santana's voice that Rachel didn't have to open her eyes to see it on her face.

"Well what if she wrote this letter out of spite because she got in trouble because of me and she was…hit…because of me? What if she blames me? Oh my god! What if it's a death threat!?"

A little fond smile struck Santana quickly and passed quickly like the eclipse of the moon because honestly only Rachel could worry about such insane things and turn into a mumbled ramble. Gently Santana extracted herself from Rachel's grip to lay that same arm over her sisters thin shoulders and pull her against her side. She waited for Rachel to burrow into her side and begin sniffing quietly, signaling that she was tearing up.

"Okay first off we don't know for sure that it was…you know…" The Latina trailed off when she grew uncomfortable.

"Child abuse." Rachel spoke quietly for Santana, knowing her sister still couldn't say the words.

"We don't know for sure. Even though it really seems like it. Second off, if it was, you know, she wouldn't blame you even if it was your fault."

Rachel's eyes slowly opened to stare at the door, blinking rapidity in confusion, "I don't think I understand."

"Well," Santana shifted uncomfortably, tightening her grip on Rachel, subconsciously looking for comfort, "When you go through that shit the only person you ever blame is yourself. You feel like its all your fault because you feel like your doing something wrong constantly. Because, if you weren't doing anything wrong then why would your mom hit you? You know?"

Rachel looped her arms around her sisters waist, hugging the Latina against her because she knew that even though she spoke of it like it was any person Rachel knew she was speaking form experience and needed the comfort of a hug, "I don't know but I understand now. Thank you Tana."

"Sure thing Mini Me. Now can we stop with all this lovey dovey shit? It's making me nauseous." Santana cleared her throat and shoved Rachel away, albeit gently, and returned the scowl to her face, holding her hand in front of her face to look over her nails. The action was just so Santana Rachel couldn't help the smile that lit up her face.

"Sorry Tana. Do you think you could open that? I don't think I can and it's been long enough. We're being rude."

"Whatever." Quicker than Rachel could register the Latina snatched the note up and slid her fingernail under the fold. Just as she was open to pull it open Rachel grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

"Wait. I want to do it." Santana merely shrugged and held it out for Rachel who remained motionless save from her eyes roving over the letter.

"Well? Are you going to open it or what?" The diva startled, having been so absorbed in her thoughts she managed to forget the other presence in the room. Slowly Rachel withdrew her hand from Santana's wrist and dropped it into her lap to fold it with her other hand.

"I changed my mind. You can do it."

"Rachel. I love you, I do but if you change your mind one more time I will murder you. And neither of us want that because you'd be dead and shit and I'd be forced to dig a grave and that would so fuck up my manicure."

"You would kill me and the only thing you would care about is your manicure?"

"That's love baby." The Latina smirked more so to herself than to irk her sister before turning her attention back to the note, sliding her long digit under the fold and pulling up. The paper fell open leaving Santana to unfold the paper and turn it over so she could digest the words with her eyes.

Rachel watched Santana's eyes move left to right over the page repeatedly until she couldn't stand the wait any longer and slapped at Santana's thighs. The Latina startled, immediately slapping Rachel's offending hands away with the one hand not holding the note.

"Stop it you crazy bitch! Why are you hitting me!?"

Rachel popped her bottom lip out, hands stilling midair, "Don't call names. It's hurtful."

"Okay, you crazy midget why are you hitting me?"

"That wasn't much nicer."

"Rachel!"

"What does it say!? Read it to me!"

Santana rolled her eyes, mentally reminding herself as to why she loved Rachel and why she wasn't ruining her manicure by digging a grave instead.

"It says, 'Dear San and Rach. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier, I'm mean sometimes but I don't mean to be. I thought you guys were pretty cool and I want us to be friends. But because me and Britney are home schooled we won't be able to hang out with you guys. So I wrote our phone numbers at the bottom. Call or text anytime. We don't really do anything. We'll be waiting for your text for sure! Love, Quinn.' I get the feeling Quinn didn't write this though. I think Britney did." Santana concluded by handing the paper over to Rachel, tapping her fingertip against the phone numbers scribbled at the bottom in sloppy handwriting.

Rachel re-read the note herself a few more times before setting the parchment down on the bed between them, cringing slightly when she noticed the blood was beginning to turn brown now that it was drying.

"I think your right. Quinn doesn't strike me as one to use such poor grammar. But I don't understand. If Britney wrote it, why would she say Quinn did? It's not like we'd mind the difference."

Santana shrugged, eyes narrowed in thought, "I dunno. Maybe Britney thought it would."

"But why?"

"Rachel, despite what any of my ex's tell you, I'm not god. Except in bed. I don't know everything there is to know about life and shit."

" 'And shit.' Very prolific and dynamic your thought process is sister of mine."

"Hey don't pull that sarcasm shit with me. I'll beat your ass."

Rachel smiled with a shake of her head, "And so loving too."

"I try. Honestly, I do."

"I can tell. It must be very difficult for you."

"You have no idea." The sisters shared a laugh, momentarily forgetting the two blonde's troubling them until the mirth passed. Then, as if on the same brain length, they simultaneously looked down at the note with matching frowns.

"You should call Britney."

"You should text Quinn."

"You call first then I'll text."

"Fuck that! I'll call when I'm good and ready. But you have to text Quinn right now."

"What!? How is that fair!?"

"Because I said so and if you don't I'll hide all the copies of Funny Girl in this house?"

Rachel gasped and slapped her hands over her chest, tears already filling her wide eyes, "You wouldn't dare!"

Santana leaned back against her headboard, resting her forearm on one of her bent knees, "Wanna test that theory?" The sisters stared at one another in silence for what seemed like hours until Rachel sighed loudly and threw herself down onto the bed face first. Santana took that as a victory and presumed to gloat by laughing haughtily to herself. Her victory laugh was interrupting by Rachel mumbling something into the bedspread.

"What was that Rachie?"

Rachel picked her head up, eyes burning with an intense anger all for Santana, "I called you a bitch."

At that the Latina began laughing again, "You and everyone else Sis. Now C'mon, text Barbie. She's waiting."

Rachel again sighed loudly and rolled onto her back, holding her hand out to Santana, "Hand me my phone."

It took Santana a few minutes to find the damn thing, Rachel had dropped it and accidentally kicked it under the bed during her performance of a Diva Storm Out, but when she did find it she finally gave it to an impatient Rachel.

"I hate your for this." The diva murmured while her fingers flew across the touch screen, saving Quinn's number into her phone.

"Yeah, yeah. Less bitchin' more textin'."

Rachel threw one last glare in her sisters direction before complying. Her fingertips tapped on the envelope insignia on her phone, bringing up a new message. There she paused. What was she suppose to say? 'Hey Quinn! What's up?" Certainly not. 'Dearest Quinn, how are you? How's your health? Do your parents abuse you?' Seems like that wouldn't go over so well. 'You have a nice ass.' That was absolutely not going to happen. Even if it was tempting.

Hello Quinn.

I just wanted to thank you

for your letter. It was sweet

of you.

Xo R.

"There. Done. I sent it." Santana looked up, pausing with the file against the tip of her ring finger's nail.

"Let me see."

Rachel floundered, quickly tucking her phone under her thigh so Santana couldn't grab it out of her hand, "Why? I already sent it."

"Yeah I know but I want to see what you said. C'mon Rach. What have you got to hide?" Rachel didn't like the mischievous glint in her sisters eyes.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Slowly Santana crawled across the bed towards Rachel.

"Then you wouldn't mind me seeing it then?" Before Rachel could protest Santana reached her hand under her sister's thigh and curled her tanned fingers around the phone and yanked it towards her. Rachel shrieked and lunged for her sister but came up with nothing but pillows. Santana had jumped off the bed as soon as she had the phone in hand, standing near the door with a knowing, slightly condescending, smile as she read the text that had been sent out.

"Xo? Really Rachel? A hug and a kiss?" "Shut up Santana!"

"I knew you wanted all up on that." The Latina tossed Rachel's phone on the bed in front of the blushing diva with a cocky smirk.

"I do not! Stop teasing me!"

"I'm not. But I'm sure you'd like to tease Quinn wouldn't you?"

"Oh my god. I can't believe you just said that." Rachel blushed profusely, dropping her head in her cupped hands. The sound of Rachel's phone vibrating stopped whatever retort Santana had been about to say from happening. In a flash Rachel had her phone in hand and was reading the message with a frown.

What letter? Who is this?

How did you get my number?

"I think it's safe to say Quinn didn't write that letter Tana."

"Why? Lemme see." The Latina sat on the bed behind Rachel, poking her head over the brunette's shoulder to scan over the message, letting out a low whistle.

"Well, that Britney is a sly one ain't she? That's hot." Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Do you ever let yourself, I dunno, think with your brain instead of your libido?"

"Why would I do that? That doesn't sound like any kind of fun."

It's Rachel Berry. From next door.

The letter that Britney brought over

had your number on it. Remember?

You wrote it? You signed your name?

Xo R.

"Another hug and kiss? Girl you gots it hot."

"I don't even know what that means Santana. You learned English for a reason, try using it correctly for once." Rachel felt Santana jab her fingertips in her side, eliciting a sharp gasp from the smaller teen.

"Watch it short stuff."

Britney brought you a letter I wrote?

"Oh yeah. Barbie is totally out of the loop. Britney is so hot." Santana beamed down at the phone, looking oddly proud for whatever reason.

"Your so strange."

Yes she did. I found it endearing

that you would like to be friends

even though your home schooled

and I'm not. It is alright? I can

text you right?

Xo R.

Um. Yeah. Could you excuse me

a moment Rachel? I need

to talk to B about something

real quick okay?

"Oh shit. Brit is so in trouble." Santana mumbled with something akin to a pout on her face.

So. Yeah. Sorry I haven't updated in ages but like I already said, it takes me a while to get time to write. Also I planned for this chapter to be a little more serious but for some reason, it took a humorous turn. I hope you all don't mind.