Hey folks! I am back again. I think I said that if I got another idea I would update? Well, here I am! No here's a question? Should I just leave this as the last chapter and be done... Or take it off the complete list and keep writing. Your choice..

Chapter 48

Rachel was actually frightened by the noises emerging from the garage. She had pulled up in her car no more than five minutes ago and as soon as she had cut off her engine. She was paralyzed. Like.. what kind of.. of.. THING, makes those noises. It was like an angry, fat cat trapped inside of a metal container. And Rachel had feared that Brittany was over and brought Lord Tubbington with her.

"Ha! I think I got it... Oh shit!"

CRASH!

Well that got Rachel to move as she bolted from her car and nearly kicked open the side door. Her jaw dropped. Santana was picking herself up off the ground, her hair back in her infamous high pony and spots of grease covering her face. She also had a wrench in one hand and what looked like to be a filter in the other. But that was only part of the reason Rachel had stopped walking... The main part was her outfit.. A baggy, greased up jump suit, tied around the waist and a black tank top. Not to mention the combat boots she had on for some reason.

"Santana?" A scream rang out as Santana whipped around.

"Jesus! Rachel for flying monkey fucks!" She threw her hands up, sending her girlfriend a glare. "Seriously, with your ninja shit. Cut it out." Rachel just stared at her.

"What have I told you about speaking that way?" She casually walked into the garage, her eye's grazing over the rustic car Santana apparently seemed to be working on.

"Well excuse me Miss Thang. But I think I have a right to speak that way, especially when other people are sneaking around like murderers." She finished her sentence with a twirl of the wrench. This was becoming dangerous.

"Okay.. Okay." Rachel backed up, eyeing the wrench. "You are right. I did not mean to sneak up on you. I was just worried when I heard a loud crash and you were facing away from me. I-"

"Rachel.. Shut up. I'm fine." Santana shot at her, leaning back under the hood. Rachel watched her for a few seconds.

"Well... If you are alright, then would you mind telling me, What are you doing?" She peeked around the hood, her heart stopping at how rugged but yet sexy, Santana looked. The other brunette rolled her eyes.

"If you couldn't tell. I am working on a car." Santana answered back in a clear voice. This time Rachel rolled her eye's.

"I know that. But why?"

Santana straightened up and looked at Rachel.

"Alright, You see this beautiful bitch right here." She walked over to Rachel. "This is a '64 Ford Thunderbird. It has been my dream car for as long as I can remember." Rachel smiled softly at that. "And this one is mine... Once I fix it up of course." She finished with a grumble, heading back under the hood. Rachel followed after.

"What's wrong with it?" She leaned forward a bit, her head swimming at the amount of loose wires and large metal pieces. Why does that look like a meat grinder? She shook the thought away.

Santana let out a low chuckle.

"Where do I start?" She glared at the engine before her. "It needs some new wires, which all of them look the same at this point." She pulled on one of the wires with a huff. "The air filter looked like shit. So that had to go. One of the cylinders is stuck and I can't figure out why." She wiped her forehead, smearing even more grease upon it. "And that's just some of the major stuff."

If Rachel's head wasn't swimming before, it was now. And it was drowning in the deep end.

"I'm sorry.. But what?" She let out a small laugh, rubbing her temples. Santana released a sigh.

"It needs a lot of work. Lets leave it at that." She leaned forward, reaching her arm down and pulled on something with a grunt.

What happened next had Rachel running for her life and Santana swearing up a storm.

What Santana thought to be the new hose she was hooking up, ending up being one attached to the oil tank. And with one mighty tug, the hose popped free, a fountain of oil coming right at her with no end in sight.

"Oh my god! Ugh!" Santana dropped the hose, spitting oil from her mouth. "Are you fucking kidding me?" She coughed, scrambling to stop the oil from entering her stomach. "So sick! Rachel!" She spit again, peering through one eye, for her girlfriend. "Help me!"

Rachel was hiding around the corner, staying far away from the possessed car.

"Walk to me." She called out. "This is a new outfit and Daddy would kill me if I got it dirty."

"I just swallowed a gallon of 20-year-old oil! And you are worried about your clothing!" Santana yelled, carefully making her way to the garage door.

"It was not that much." The other girl rolled her eyes.

"Whatever.. Just get the hose. I think I'm dying and I at least want to be semi clean for the corners." She had her head down, oil still dripping from her face and hair.

"Okay, hold still..." Rachel turned the faucet on and aimed the hose for Santana.

Santana screamed when a blast of cold water hit her in the ear. She tore the hose away from Rachel.

"Let me do it!" She gave Rachel a one eye glare right before rinsing her face off. She now had streaks of oil running down her face and Rachel couldn't hold back just how turned on she was right now.

She pulled the hose away from Santana and jumped her. Grabbing her neck, she pulled the other girl down and proceeded to kiss Santana... for about a second when she realized she hadn't rinsed her mouth yet.

"Oh my goodness!" Rachel cough, holding her stomach. "So disgusting." She frantically grabbed the hose, almost drowning herself in water. Santana smirked.

"Well.. at least my mouth doesn't taste like it anymore."