Chapter 6: The Question
The aftermath of Santana's defence lingered. People looked at them differently, searching for clues. Quinn pulled Santana aside. "What was that back there, Santana? Since when are you Rachel Berry's bodyguard?"
Santana deflected with practiced ease. "She's annoying, but she's our annoying diva. Nobody else gets to pick on her." Quinn looked unconvinced but dropped it.
The incident forced Rachel and Santana to confront the unsustainability of their situation. The secrecy was becoming a burden neither was sure they wanted to carry anymore.
"What are we doing, Santana?" Rachel asked one evening, sitting on her bed while Santana paced the floor.
"Surviving McKinley?" Santana offered weakly.
"No, I mean us. This... sneaking around. Hiding. Is this all it's ever going to be?" Rachel's voice trembled slightly. "Because I... I think I feel more for you than just... stolen moments in janitor closets."
Santana stopped pacing, her back to Rachel. The confession hung in the air. Rachel could see the tension in her shoulders. Finally, Santana turned, her expression guarded but her eyes betraying a storm of emotion.
"I don't know how to do... this, Berry," she admitted, gesturing vaguely between them. "The public thing. The holding hands and... Lima Heights doesn't exactly prepare you for dating Rachel freaking Berry."
"So, what? We just stop?" Rachel asked, her heart sinking.
Santana looked at her, a long, searching gaze. "Is that what you want?"
"No," Rachel whispered. "No, it's not."