So as always, thanks for the all the reviews and alerts. I really appreciate it. Now for this one, I kept it one POV to keep things simple. But finally. After much anticipation... Pezberry meets! How will it go? Well let's see, shall we?

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 5

Rachel POV

Why is it that Caroline and Becka have convinced me to go back to the Blue Mic two weekends in a row following the first night? And now, Caroline has convinced me to go again tonight. I don't know why I keep going. I'm still a bit apprehensive about going again at risk of actually running into Santana. My curiosity has me wondering about what the Latina has been up to for the last 4 years has me wanting to talk to her. Past experience has me scared that if I do meet up with the Latina, that I will just cower in fear. My all too active sex drive has me scared that I will just skip the talking all together and just pounce on her. But to be totally honest, none are really things I'm in the mood for right now.

So dressed in a simple black pencil skirt, sleeveless white ruffled shirt and black stilettos, I meet Caroline at the club around the time of Santana's usual first set. "So, you ready for another lap dance?" Caroline asks as we take a seat at the same table we had sat at the weekend before. Why can't she let that go? I glare at the blonde and proceed to ignore the question. "Oh sure. Be quiet. That's fine. I take your silence as a yes. So do you think you will talk to Miss Lopez tonight?"

"Not really. I mean as much as I would love to converse with my former arch nemesis and probably turn back into that insecure little Rachel 'Manhands' Berry again, I think I will pass," I say, turning to face the stage.

"Okay. Whatever you say. But I have a feeling that something's going to happen tonight. I mean, why else come here again if you don't want to talk to her?"

"Well, she is still hot," I say with a smirk.

" 'Nuff said," Caroline agrees as the lights dim and Carmine takes the stage.

#####

"Near lap dance. Again. I should've bet money," Caroline says, as we gather our things in preparation to leave. Okay, just to be clear, Santana did not give me a lap dance. She just sang and danced suggestively around me during two of her four songs. It's not like she actually danced on me or anything. Though, with that little blue number she had on, I wouldn't have been opposed to some physical contact. Not that I will admit it out loud though. "If tonight proved anything, it proves that Santana so wants you." Oy vey. I roll my eyes and grab my purse and jacket from the back of my chair. "Don't roll your eyes. You know I'm right."

"How many times do I have to tell you? Santana doesn't want me. Never has and never will." Like this whole thing is seriously getting old.

"But if she did, then what then?"

"Nothing. Because no matter what you say, Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez will never get together. So let's just go." Just when I turn to leave the club, I hear a strong, demanding, and oh so familiar voice. "Rachel fucking Berry." Shit. I stop and look at Caroline who is looking past me smirking. Ass. "Told you something was going to happen tonight," Caroline whispers.

"I hate you," I mouth silently before turning to face the Latina. She's standing in front of me with arms cross her chest, sporting her yet to be patented smirk and I can't help but feel like that damn 15 year old girl in the animal sweaters and knee highs again. "Yup I thought that was you," Santana says looking me up and down, "but with better fashion sense." Oh this is going to be fun.

"Hello Santana," I say. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah. Almost 4 fucking years. I almost expected you to grow but," she slowly walks forward and stops right in front of me. So close that I can actually smell her. Cinnamon, vanilla and something I can't put my finger on. But whatever it is, it's intoxicating. "still a hobbit." Well that feeling didn't last long.

"And apparently, you're still a bitch," I retaliate.

"Woah. I didn't know that hobbits were allowed to use such language." Okay, wow. And here I was thinking that the Santana Lopez I dealt with in high school might have matured and changed for the better but no such luck. If anything, she's actually gotten worse. And to make things even more irritating, Caroline has decided to leave me in here by myself to deal with the wicked witch of the East coast. Why do I have my friends anyway? They are no help at all. Time to end this little exchange because I really don't have time for this. "Okay, well I wish I could say it's been nice running into you after all these years but my dads always told me not to lie. So goodbye Santana. Have a nice life," I say with all the snap that New York has given me in my time here. I turn to walk away but she grabs me by the arm. Oy vey. I really don't have time for this bullshit but I stop anyway.

"Hey Berry look. I'm sorry, okay? Old habits die hard and all that shit." Did she just apologize? I didn't even know she was capable of doing that and even though I can't see her face, I can hear the sincerity in her voice. Plus, despite being the queen bitch, I do recall her having moments of kindness and remorse. Mostly towards one person but still. It was there. "Can we take a step back and start over?" I turn around slowly, simultaneously escaping her hold and look into her eyes. I'm not sure what I'm looking for really. Mischief. Malice. Anything to make me feel threatened but despite the dangerously sexy dark brown eyes I find staring back at me, I don't feel in danger. At least not now. "Fine," I say sighing.

"Wow. One word answers. Profanity. Looks like your wardrobe isn't the only thing that's changed. I guess New York has done some good for you Miss Rachel Berry," she says with the smirk that I'm never sure is predatory or seductive.

"What do you want, Santana? My friend is waiting for me," I look around the club, "somewhere." Where the hell did Caroline get to?

"Well tell her to wait. I wanna catch up with my dear old hobbit friend," she answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"I can't do that. Besides, we were never really friends." She puts a hand on her chest and leaned back slightly.

"Ouch. Damn Berry. Low blow. I thought we had at least a little something back in the day. Maybe a mutual tolerance perhaps?"

"A mutual tolerance? Oh please. You call you making fun of my nose, my height, my hands, my clothes, my drive to success, stealing my boyfriend and the list continues, every fucking day a mutual tolerance? Clearly you have your wires crossed on that one," I spit back and I can tell she wasn't expecting that. Sort of like the time I said that the only job she was cut out to do was be a stripper. But instead of leaving in a rush, this time she just stands in front of me and grins.

"Okay then. Well what about senior year? We were almost friends then?"

"When?"

"West Side Story?"

"Being in the same musical doesn't make people friends. We were also in it with most of the football team and I definitely wasn't friends with them."

"Okay. How about singing 'I kissed a girl'?"

"I was being supportive of your coming out."

"Forced coming out by your old tree-like BF but I digress."

"Regardless, I was being supportive of a f…"

"Friend, perhaps?"

"A fellow team mate," I correct.

"Sure. What about Graduation? And Christmas?" Excuse me?

"What about Christmas?"

"I gave Finnocence," oddly I sort of missed her random, harsh yet oh so clever nicknames for people, "the gift idea for the earrings you got senior year." Wait, what? I'm pretty sure my eyes can't get any bigger right now. I thought he picked those out himself but I should have realized that a guy who needed another girl to pick out a corsage for his date and couldn't remember I was vegan if his life depended on it, wouldn't be able to pick out the exact earrings I wanted. But how did Santana know? "What? You didn't know?" I shake my head. Of course I didn't know because I was too "in love" to notice what a douche my former lover was. "Oh. Well I'm surprised you didn't figure it out. I mean, what guy could go from forgetting that you were vegan to buying exactly what you wanted for Christmas, huh? Told he was a douchebag." Was she in my mind? I wouldn't be surprised that in the past few years, she had sold her soul to the devil to have the ability to read people's minds.

Wait?

The devil?

Santana?

Maybe? Possibly?

"Well Finnept aside, I figured that after all the shit we've gone through together with the rest of the Gleeks, we would've at least reached the point of casual friends," she says, breaking me out of my thoughts. Casual friends? What the hell does that mean anyway?

"What your angle here Santana?" Can't blame a girl for being cautious.

"Goddammit Berry. Suspicious much? There's no angle. No ulterior motive. Just an old sort of friend asking you to have a drink to catch up." Doesn't sound too bad. "Then you can go back to your whack ass blonde friend. Wherever the hell she went." And we're back.

"My friend isn't whack."

"Like it matters. So? Just one drink?" I narrow my eyes and look into hers again. The same dangerous sensuality is present in them but despite the seemingly harsh words that always manage to escape those plump lips of hers, all I else I see is sincerity. I mean, I'm not in the biggest of moods to chat with her tonight but I am sort of curious as to how she managed to fall off the face of the earth for years and then practically landing on my doorstep. That all can be answered over one drink, right? "Fine. One drink," I say finally. Instead of answering, Santana just smirks devilishly and saunters over the bar. Well damn. What the hell did I just get myself into?

"Yeah, what did you just get yourself into?" Holy. Did I just say that out loud?

"Where the hell have you been?" I ask Caroline, turning around to face my deserter friend.

"Calm yo tits woman," she says calmly. "I went to the bathroom after you got called back by Miss Sexy over there." I roll my eyes. "So, what's the deal? What did you get yourself into?"

"Well I was going to tell you to go on without me because I'm going to stay a little longer."

"Oh I see. So you are going after that?" she asks, pointing at the bar where Santana is animatedly ordering drinks.

"No. But she did ask me to share a drink with her."

"Oh really" she sing-songs.

"Yes really. So I'm going to share that one drink, catch up and be done with it."

"Sure you will."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Caroline looks at me knowingly and grin. The problem, I don't know why she's grinning because I have no plans to have more than a drink with the Latina demoness.

Wait.

Demoness?

Maybe? Possibly. Could she maybe…

"Okay. Whatever. Just call me when you're done. Maybe I'll find a Wal-Mart or something. Maybe some real food."

"You do that."

"I will. And you have fun getting your drink on. And don't do anything Becka wouldn't do."

"But she slept with her, you ass."

"True. Okay, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"But you would totally sleep with her if given the chance."

"Once again, true. But have you seen her?" I can't even with this girl.

"Just go. Please, go. Now."

"Okay, I got one. Don't do anything Kurt or Gavin wouldn't do."

"So don't have sex with her?"

"Exactly."

"Why do you think I would even try? What type of girl do you take me for?"

"The type of girl who practically wet herself and blushed every time we mentioned Santana these past few weeks." Just to be clear here, I did not blush. My face may have flushed a bit thinking about the way her body moved around my chair. Or the way that she looked at me with those eyes that could both captivate and kill.

"Whatev…"

"BERRY! Stop chatting it up with the person who already likes your tiny ass and come talk with someone who's still on the fence abouts ya!" I cringe at the sound of her voice. Why can she make me feel like that insecure high school kid with just a statement? Well, that's not going to fly because I worked too hard to grow past that girl and into the strong, confident woman I am today. I will not let Santana Lopez, a demon from my past, come and tear all that down.

"Stay nearby," I say to Caroline. "This should be quick."

"Gotcha. Good luck." She pats me on the shoulder, takes one last look at the Latina behind me then leaves the club. I sigh. This is going to be interesting.

I turn around slowly, mentally preparing myself for which look I may face on the Latina's face. Anger. Disgust. Irritation. 180 degrees around and I am so wrong. Actually, from the looks of it, it seems like she was checking out my ass because her eyes haven't left my waist and she just licked her lips. Well great. Now I feel like a mouse under that trained eye of a raven. This may be harder than I thought.

"Santana, must you be rude to everyone?" I ask, walking over and standing in front of her at the bar. It takes a second or two for her gaze to rake up my body and stop at my eyes.

"Not everyone, Berry," she replies. "Just you." I roll my eyes. It's like I'm dealing with a college freshman boy. But never the less, I pull out the empty bar stool next to her and sit down at the bar. "Here you go," tall male bartender says, placing a green drink in front of me.

"What this?"I ask the girl next standing there with a sly grin next to me.

"You take me as an appletini kind of chica. So…" I look at her curiously before picking up the glass and bringing it up to my lips. Although drinking it may be easier without her staring at me.

"You're so lucky you're right."

"Babe, I'm always right. Like I'm pretty sure that I'm going to be right when I assume that you've switched teams since high school." I practically choke on my drink. I knew that Santana was never one to mince words or beat around the bush and was usually blunt but damn. Should I let her know? I mean, it's not like she'd not be okay with it. She is a lesbian herself so what's the harm?

"Santana, what are you talking about?" Okay, so apparently my mind and my mouth don't agree on what to say and when to say it.

"Oh please, Berry. Everything about you now screams lesbian. You're about as straight as a circle."

"Um, Santana, how does one 'scream lesbian'?" I question because really, is there a way someone can scream lesbian?

"It's got to do with the simple fact that for the past three weekends, you've come here and sat in the front row and consciously or not, were checking me out and practically wetting yourself with arousal the entire time." She then walks around to the other side of the bar (for reasons I don't know) and leans over it in front of me and dear Lord. I see the rambunctious twins are still present. I'm trying not to look but dammit, they are just so right in my face. And so nice. And okay, one glance. Maybe she won't notice. "See? Right there." Damn. "Gay." She puts one elbow on the bar and rests the side of her face on her hand. "Now what I want to know is why after all those years, with all those boys and all that time sniffing after Finnocence, you would cross the rainbow into lady lovin' land? That is, unless you straddle the rainbow?" Okay, really. Should I divulge such personal matters to a woman I haven't seen in almost 4 years? But I guess if I'm going to get something out of her, I'm going to have to open up about myself.

"Well as you well know, I had exclusively male partners in high school," I start before taking a sip of my drink, secretly hoping that the alcohol inside will calm me long enough to get through this.

"Yeah. Sort of been through that already. What I wanna know is which side of the spectrum you're standing on? Are you teetering on the fence or are you a carpet muncher like me?"

"Santana!" I chastise the girl. She just shrugs, turns around, grabs two shot glasses and sets them in front of me on the bar. She then reaches under the table, pulls out a bottle of Ciroc vodka, and pours the clear liquid in each of the shot glasses. After returning the bottle to its original spot, in less than 5 seconds, she downs both the shots. Holy. Crap. Should I have found that incredibly hot? "Anyway, despite your vulgarity, which I'm sure has increased over the years, I will entertain your question with an answer. If you must know,"

"I must."

"Well, since you must know, I'm gay."

"Since when?"

"Well after graduation, Finn and I tried to maintain a long distance relationship for about a year or so with him being in the army and me being here. But sometimes, distance doesn't make the heart grow fonder. It makes it grow more paranoid and resentful. So we broke up."

"Yeah I heard about that. Wheezy posted about it on facebook a while back." So apparently she's kept in touch with some people? But why haven't I anything until now?

"So after the breakup, I was pretty upset about it. That was until I met Terry."

"Oh? Who's Terry?" she leans back on the counter and there's the twins again. Okay. Focus. I was telling a story.

"Well I met Terry in my first semester sophomore modern dance class. Tall, brunette dance major. We started talking because we were paired for a project. But even after we were done with the project, we still hung out. Hanging out turned into dating and dating turned into a two year relationship that ended when she graduated early and moved to California."

"Well that's unfortunate," Santana mutters, words dripping in sarcasm.

"Santana, is it at all possible for you to speak without sarcasm?"

"Probably not but with the right amount of alcohol, I'm sure I can be persuaded to try." She snaps her fingers at the bartender at the end of the bar. He excuses himself from the flirty blonde that had been engaging his attention for the duration of our conversation and walks down to us. "Another round?" he asks, coldly.

"Why the hell else would I be snapping my fingers at ya, Gerald?" Santana says as I watch the exchange from behind my martini glass. "So cut the back sass, get me 2 shots of tequila and another appletini of the sexy lady," she says with a wink. Did she just call me sexy? Like seriously, how can she be incredibly irritating one moment, then insanely sexy and charming the next? I think I probably should stop this little reunion at one drink like I planned but who can say no to a face like that? So the bartender nods and leaves to prepare the drinks. "So newly hot short stack, you were telling a story or something?" And back to irritating.

"Right. Well after Terry, I redirected my romantic interests to the fairer sex. I mean, I've always been attracted to girls and I even dabbled with the idea of me being bisexual but several girlfriends later, my interest in men as anything other than friends waned."

"Wow. Who would've guessed that after all this time, Rachel fucking Berry would be a big ol' lesbian like me? The universe has some damn sense of humor."

"Yeah. I guess it does," I think aloud, taking a sip of my drink.

"Hell yeah it does. How else do you explain us running into each other after all these years and you all brand new hotness and swinging for my team and me still gay and looking?"

"Um wha…" I start but am interrupted by the bartender Gerald returning to our spot at the bar with 2 shots of tequila in between his pointer finger and thumb in one hand and an appletini in the other.

"Here you go ladies," he says placing the glasses on the countertop in front of us.

"Thank you very much," I say kindly.

"My pleasure. Hey, if this one," he points to Santana with a tilt of the head, "screws with ya, just holler down the bar and I'll be right over."

"Walk away Gerald," Santana says, waving him off with her hand.

"Yeah whatever Satan. Just be nice to this one. I like her a lot more than the other girls you pick up here. She has manners," he looks at the almost empty glass in my hand, "and classy taste in drinks." I smile softly from the behind the glass at the compliment.

"Walk away Gerald," Santana repeats, shooting the much bigger man her best 'go the fuck away' glare. Though not outwardly unnerved, the way he says "Fine" as he leaves lets me know that even in big bad New York, Santana Lopez is still a force to be reckoned with.

After Santana quickly downs the new pair of shots, I finish my first drink and switch to the other glass. Just as I take a sip, I notice Santana staring at me. "What?' I say after swallowing.

"Geez Berry just starting the second drink? Still the light weight I see," she mocks.

"Just because I choose not to pop back shot after shot doesn't mean I'm a lightweight," I say unmoved by her mocking tone. The more time I spend with her, the more her taunts and jabs have little on effect on me.

"Sure you aren't. So new hot Rachel Berry," she says slowly, walking around the bar with one hand dragging along the counter.

"Yes, Santana Lopez," I say confused by her change in tone.

"So after this whatever it is, are we going to go back to my place or yours? I don't care really which one." Excuse me? What?

"Umm, excuse me?" I love how my brain says something right before my mouth says it. But really, what? " Santana, why would we go back to yours or mine apartments?"

"For sex. Duh."

"Wait, why would we do that?"

"Isn't that where this is going?"

"Santana, I'm lost here."

"Sex. Ever heard of it? It involves two people or more sometimes, engaging in some naked Twister that usually ends in some sort of amazing climax." God, I hate her condensing tone right now.

"I know what sex is, Santana."

"Okay, then why aren't we doing it? Or at least going somewhere to do it?"

"Seriously," I place my glass down on the counter top and turn on my stool to face her. "why on earth would you expect me to have sex with you?"

"Because tu es caliente y soy caliente."

"Flawless logic," I reply sarcastically.

"Well, I know that seeing you now all sexy and confident and shit, I sort of want you. And I'm sure that you want me too from the way that you practically jizzed in your panties during my performances." Dammit. I turn my head to hide the red starting to seep into my face. I didn't think I was that obvious. I mean sure, I ogled the other woman a bit during the performance but that was mostly because I was surprised to see her here. "Look Santana," I start calmly, "when you asked me to share a drink with you, that was my intention. To share a drink. Nothing more."

"Well you already broke your one drink rule for the night, why not break a few more rules during this little reunion?" She takes a few steps closer to me, puts one hand on my bare thigh and the other on the counter next to my drink hand. "I mean, who knows when we might see each other again after tonight," she very gently starts to caress the skin of my thigh with her thumb. I let out a sigh because, dear lord this woman is good. I see why all the boys at school wanted a chance at McKinley High's hot Latin HBIC. But it has been a while since the last time that…Okay, no. Stop thinking it. Nothing can happen. Nothing will happen. "It would be a shame if this possibly last meeting wasn't a memorable one. Am I right?" Okay, like what would be so bad about sleeping with Santana?

Pros:

1. I could take her back to my place and in the morning, kick her out on her ass like she did to Becka. Thus getting her back for screwing her my friends

2.I would have sex.

3. I would have sex with Santana Lopez.

Cons: I would have a one night stand with my former high school nemesis who wants me for nothing more than to have sex with me.

As I continue weighing my options, my phone vibrates in my jacket pocket on the back of the stool. I turn to face the bar (and to escape Santana's touch) and grab my phone from the pocket. The action doesn't go over well with the Latina, who lets out a very audible groan. "Hello," I say, answering the phone.

"Hey Rach, so are you spending the night with the slutty songstress or am I coming to get you?" Caroline has the best timing ever. I look to my left at my first option shamelessly checking me out with eyes I remember her using when she was on the prowl. Now sure, I reiterate, having sex with Santana would be no doubt, a lot of fun and God, she is so damn sexy looking at me like she is now but she's also vulgar, rude, harmfully honestly and difficult to trust. Okay, I've made my decision. "Come and get me," I say finally and hang up. Santana groans again and this time, it's followed by a "Dammit". I put my phone away, take a few final sips of my drink and get up from the stool. "Well Santana, it was nice running into you," I say grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair, "Hopefully we'll run into each other again. But New York is a big state so who knows?"

"Really Berry?" she says, perfectly manicured eyebrow raised.

"Really what Santana?" I'm so over this meeting.

"Are you really blowing me off right now?"

"I have a play I need to work on for the morning so in a sense; yes; I blowing you off." Santana looks at me curiously before taking another step closer to me. So close I can actually feel her breath in my face. Even though there is only like, a three inch height difference, the way that she stares down at me make me feel even smaller. But like I said before, I'm not that girl anymore. And I'm not backing down. "Look Santana, you've clearly made your intentions for this meeting of chance known and I want to reiterate my position by saying that I will, in no way, have sex with you tonight."

"And why the fuck not?" She snaps, crossing her arms across her well sculpted chest. Okay, time for some tough love.

"Well first off, I don't know you," I argue.

"Oh please. We've known each other since junior high. So don't try to give me that bullshit," she counters.

"Though that may be true, I haven't seen or heard from you in nearly four years so I don't know this new you."

"Not much has changed so next point?"

"I don't do one night stands," I state firmly and all she does is laughs. She fucking laughs at me.

"Oh come on Rach. Don't tell me that this little personality and wardrobe make over did nothing for your spontaneity as well." I roll my eyes

"Though my style of dress has changed and improved over the years, doesn't mean I'm more promiscuous."

"And why not? You're letting all that hotness go to waste."

"Because I still believe in sex as a way to connect intimately with another person." She rolls her eyes and scoffs.

"I guess I'm really not going to get a taste of Rachel's berries tonight." Okay, the line? She just crossed it.

"You know what Santana?" I say, raising my voice. Santana leans back slightly on one foot, puts on her best 'bitch smirk' and waits for me to continue. "I'm never EVER going to have sex with you because you are arrogant, perverse, cocky, profane, disrespectful, and I don't want to spend any more time with you. I'm not sure what happened to you over the years that had made you this intolerable but I hope you make some changes soon if you want to keep my company. So goodbye Santana." I don't even give her a chance to respond before I push past and storm out of the club in true diva fashion.

Hell yeah, that felt good.

So, what did you think? Was the meeting what you expected? What would you like to see happen next between the girls? Shoot me a review and wait to watch the story unfold. Thanks for reading and see you all soon.