Spoilers through 2.15 - Sexy. Special thanks to Spearleader who showed me the error of my ghetto speaking ways for Aphasia.

BZZT BZZT

Santana glanced down from the Jersey Shore marathon she was pretending to be interested in to her cell phone where it vibrated against the coffee table. There weren't many people she was enthused to hear from right now (only Brittany really, and she hadn't been hearing from her much since Britt picked hot wheels over her stunning, tear ridden confession of love a week ago). She reached down and cautiously checked the screen and felt her heart bottom out when she didn't see her best friend's name on the screen.

Unknown number.

Who the hell had her number that she didn't know? With a swipe of her finger, Santana unlocked the phone to see who was rude enough to interrupt her important wallowing session with Snooki.

bitch get ur pasty ass off the couch and meet me in 20

Well that solved the mystery of the anonymous texter. Santana gave a last glance towards the decidedly more pasty Jersey crew before getting up with a huff.

She needed a good cigar anyway.

Santana slammed her car door as she stomped over into the shadows behind her favorite Speedway gas station, picking her way through the beer bottles left around the dumpsters by other teenagers. As soon as she got close she could see a cloud of smoke trailing out of the dark corner and she knew she had guessed her texter correctly.

"How did you even get my number again, 'Phasia?"

"Bitch, how didn't I get your number sooner when all dem boys on the west side be holdin' it on their phones."

Santana glared at her former Lima Heights bestie where she leaned up against the cinder block wall. No one talked to her like that. Even the white rhino got smacked down for giving her lip. But Aphasia? Well. Who knew what she was packing in her boots today.

"Whatever, I did not come all the way out here to listen to your broke ass. So you betta be sharin' those stogies or I'm out."

With a grin Aphasia opened up her leather jacket and pulled another cigar out of her inner pocket. Santana snatched it away and leaned forward, letting Aphasia move in to light her cigar with her own. Her tongue rolled the smoke and she let the flavor sink into her.

Damn that hit the spot.

"That'll be twenty bucks."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Santana screeched. "This isn't even a real Cuban, bitch!"

Aphasia threw her head back and her throaty laughter filled the air.

"Calm yo' ass down. You know I gotchu. First one's on the house today. You'll be back later for another with way mo' in yo' pocket than a Jackson."

Santana grumbled as she stretched out on the wall next to her old friend knowing that Aphasia would inevitably be proven right later. As always.

They leaned against the wall watching the tendrils of smoke circle up into the sky. Santana hadn't seen Aphasia in almost a year; not since she had met up with her just to rub it in the delinquent's face that her Glee club was a pile of shit (not that she cares about Glee or anything but). That was just how Aphasia operated though. She would fade in an out of Santana's life, showing up whenever she got out of juvie just to make a fuss, steal some cash, and pass on some good cigars. It would upset Santana more if she didn't appreciate having some sort of constant in her life. Especially now.

"Interestin' how you here by yo'self with me instead of fuckin' yo' blond Barbie."

Santana could feel that aching freeze of fear spreading through her chest at the words.

"I-I don't know what you are talking about."

"Gurl, I got eyes. And apparently you don't, otherwise you'd be all up on that fine, white ass."

"Excuse you!" Santana gritted out through her teeth as she mashed her cigar out on the wall behind her.

"Mm-hm. Maybe I'll go down to her crib den 'cause way I hear it, she don't want what chu got."

Santana froze on the spot.

"…you heard about me and Brittz all the way in juvie?"

Aphasia glanced over at her terrified friend and calmly flicked the ashes off the smoldering end of her cigar. Santana shrunk into the wall just a little bit more to try and hide from the piercing stare. Fuck. Why was everyone just watching her all the time?

"Nah," Aphasia drawled through an exhale. "I'm jus playin'. But I do got a question fo' you."

Santana peeked out from behind her curtain of hair and arched an eyebrow curiously.

"You 'member when we use go to the tracks and tag the train cars until someone seen us and run us out?"

The cheerleader gave a nod in recognition. Of course she did. It was hard to forget a 300 pound train conductor trying to tackle you to the ground while you pass the spray paint off to your friend who is already booking it away without you.

"Mm-hm and you 'member when we went in dis Speedway ri' here and stuffed so much damn candy in our jeans that our pockets broke - all while shooting the finger at the security cams on da way out?

Another nod. Aphasia had gotten sick afterwards from the amount of Snickers she had eaten while Santana had nearly vomited from the sheer rush of it all (but the smile she had gotten from Britt after she dumped a mess of Dots on her lap had cleared any stomach issues right up).

"Pretty badass," Aphasia grins approvingly.

Santana shrugged her shoulders, feeling her jacket scrape against the grain of the cinder block wall.

"So I guess what I'm wondering is," Aphasia drawled out as she tosses the butt of her cigar into a nearby dumpster. "Who da hell is dis lil' bitchstanding next to me now?"

Santana tensed against the wall as the words cut through her. It was hard to deny when she had definitely spent most the day curled on the couch avoiding her phone and wallowing in reality show reruns. Aphasia stomped over and slammed her hand into the wall next to her friend's head.

"What the fuck, 'Phasia," Santana mumbled out as she turned her head to avoid the direct glare.

"Nuh uh. You look at Auntie 'Phasia when she breakin' it down fo' you. Da Santana I grew up with fucked who she liked, stole what she wanted, and ain't take no shit from nobody. So who da fuck is you?"

Aphasia pointedly jabbed Santana in the boob.

"Sometimes I don't know anymore," Santana whispered.

"Then let me remind yo' bitch ass," Aphasia continued with another finger jab. "You are Santana Mothafuckin' Lopez, the second terror of Lima Heights Adjacent. You gon turn on dat charm until you work yo' way back unda dat lil' red skirt of hers and take back yo' girl, Mm-kay?"

Well when it was put that way, it didn't sound nearly as daunting a task. Except.

"She has a boyfriend now."

Aphasia cupped the hand formerly reserved for poking sense into her friend to her ear.

"I'm sorry. All I heard dere was 'whine whine whine, I'm a lil' bitch'."

Santana bristled.

"If you call me 'bitch' one more time-"

"Mm-hm you gonna do what now?"

"I'ma go all Lima Heights Adjacent up in here!" Santana growled back.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout! Go home and wash da smell of smoke off fo' yo' girlfriend finds out, you whipped mothafucker," Aphasia crowed as she pushed her friend away.

"Fuck you," Santana called over her shoulder, stomping back to her car.

"You wish, Lezpez."

Aphasia reached into her jacket for another cigar, lighting it in just seconds, as Santana tore out of the parking lot shooting her the finger out the driver's side window.

"Mm-hm, Auntie 'Phasia done it again. And I think she deserve herself some sweet, chocolate love."

With that she disappeared into the Speedway, lit cigar and all. There were some Snickers calling her name.