Author's Note: Happy Independence Day, my fellow Americans! Also, I am a pyrotechnics novice. Everything in here about them I got from the internet and I do not encourage building your own fireworks without the supervision of a trained professional.

Fourth of July. Independence Day. The Day I Get to Blow Shit Up.

Three names of the day that Santana Lopez loved the most. Sure, she had to drive an hour and a half and crash on her cousin's couch in Fort Wayne, Indiana to really enjoy it but she was willing to do it. She saved her money every year and headed to Pablo's apartment (by bus before she got her license) and then they'd walk to the nearby fireworks stand and Santana would empty out her wallet full of bills and coins and her fireworks guy would put together a nice package for her while she shopped around to get smaller things just to take apart and build her own.

Pablo had left her a note that year that he was gone out of town and probably wouldn't see her while she was there and she should make herself at home. Santana threw her bag on the couch and grabbed her wallet. She'd made quite a bit of money that year since she had to get a job to help out with fees for getting the glee club to nationals. Their budget had been cut once again and so each member had to pay a little out of pocket to get there. Santana and Brittany had both gotten jobs as lifeguards at the indoor pool even though Brittany had no idea how to swim. Santana put her in charge of the kiddy pool. Brittany played in it more than she watched over it.

Santana counted the bills once more and grinned, this was going to be a really good year. There was a bounce in her step as she drove the few blocks to the stand. She knew she'd need her car to transport everything this year.

Her fireworks guy, a middle aged man named Bill, smiled when he saw her coming. Santana dropped three hundred dollars down on the table.

"Give me the best you've got," she said with a grin.

"Coming right up, Santana! Looks like you hit the jackpot this year, huh?"

"I got a job."

"I'll get something together for you. We've got some new stuff you're gonna love."

Santana grinned and grabbed a basket to start going around the tables set up around the perimeter of the fireworks tent. She grabbed a box of every kind of bottle rocket she could find, three strings of 200 firecrackers , ground spinners, smoke bombs, cones, parachutes, five packages of giant roman candles, flying spinners, snaps, strobes, and wheels. She was almost back around the table where Bill was counting up what he'd picked out for it when she heard a familiar shrill voice that made her cringe.

"What do you mean I don't get a discount for being an active member of the Pyrotechnics Guild International? I've been a member since the day I turned fourteen! The previous fireworks selling establishment provided me with a ten-percent discount on my purchase for being a card carrying member."

Santana slowly turned her head to see none other than Rachel Berry staring down one of Bill's sons.

"Go back to that other stand then," the young man mumbled.

"There was an incident," Rachel huffed. "Some unintelligent oaf tossed a lit cigarette at the stand. Luckily, no one was hurt but it destroyed the inventory. I've selected this establishment because you seemed to be fairly well stocked, though your lack of large aerial repeater cakes has me concerned, but I am highly disappointed at your refusal to accept my PGI card as a discount tool."

"Look, talk to my dad, okay?" the young man snapped. "I just stock stuff but I've never heard him mention any discount."

"You can be assured that I will be having a discussion-Hey! Where are you going! Get back here, I wasn't finished!"

Santana rolled her eyes and hoisted her baskets up onto the tabletop. "Berry, shut the hell up and leave him alone," she barked.

Rachel turned on her heel and jumped a little at the presence of the Cheerio.

"Santana?"

"No, it's Finn. I'm in disguise. God, Berry, has the gunpowder caused you brain damage?"

Rachel scoffed. "My brain is quite undamaged, thank you. Do you know if this establishment sells Class 1.3G pyrotechnics?"

"Only for displays," Bill answered. "Unless you have a permit, no go."

"Damn," Rachel muttered. "I suppose I'll have to build my own, yet again. Please direct me to the aerial shells, sir."

Bill pointed to a table stacked with tubes and shells. Santana's jaw dropped.

"Wait a minute, Berry. You know shit about fireworks?"

"Yes, of course. I'm a card-carrying member of the Pyrotechnics Guild International." Rachel held out her laminated card. "My fathers have been taking me to their annual convention since I was seven and demanded to see it. I've been a member since I was fourteen. I also attended an explosives camp earlier this summer."

"And you know how to build aerial shells?"

Rachel scoffed. "I've been building my own since I was twelve. It's child's play, really. I have a dream of someday assisting a team of explosives engineers to destruct a skyscraper."

Santana growled. She had tried and failed on many occasions to build her own shells and the fact that Rachel Berry was besting her at something outside of a choir room made her a little jealous. "So you're like…a pyromaniac?"

Rachel grinned. "A little."

"What are you doing tonight?"

Rachel gestured to the tables of fireworks. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You wouldn't wanna like…I don't know, hang out? Blow some shit up? My uncle owns this little piece of land outside of town. I usually take my tools out there and set stuff off with my cousin but he's out of town. I'm staying at his place."

Rachel smiled. "I appreciate the offer, Santana. But, like you, I have family in the area. My uncle and his wife live out in a rural area just south of here, I stay with them every year. He's even granted me my own space in his workshop to assemble and experiment. Of course, that was after I set the drapes in my room on fire when I was nine."

"Oh, right."

"However, if you'd like to stay with me since your cousin is out of town I'm sure they wouldn't have any objections. Their house is quite large, you'd have your own bedroom."

"Uh…" Santana couldn't honestly think of a reason to say no. It wasn't like Rachel seriously annoyed her all the time at school. Only most of the time. And besides, they'd be spending time blowing shit up and there was no way that could get annoying.

"If I assure you that I will not play anything related to Broadway would that make your decision easier?"

"Save it, I was gonna say yes."

Rachel beamed. "Excellent! I assume you have things to retrieve from your cousin's place, if you'd like to just come back here I can call my aunt and tell her I won't be needing a ride back to the house. She's out shopping for a new fire extinguisher. I may have emptied what was left in their old one this morning when I was playing with some gunpowder and things went a little wrong."

Santana chuckled. "I'll meet you back here in a little bit."

Rachel smiled and nodded. Bill's son that Rachel had been yelling at helped her load her packages into the back of her car. She wrote a note to her cousin in case he came back early and then headed back to the fireworks stand where she saw Rachel waiting with a stack of boxes almost as tall as the brunette herself.

"Jesus, Berry! How much shit are you planning to fire off? And where the hell did you get the money for this?"

Santana popped open her trunk and prayed they had enough room for all of Rachel's purchases. The short brunette just grinned.

"Most of them will be disassembled," she said, loading one very large box full of nothing but aerial shells into Santana's trunk. "And the funds come from my grandparents."

"Do they know you spend their money on blowing things up?"

"They're dead, I'm not sure they mind."

"Oh, sorry."

Rachel shrugged. "I don't remember any of them. I just know that they were all very well off and I've benefited from that. College is taken care of as are all of my hobbies."

"Pyrotechnics being one of your hobbies."

"Of course. I can't exactly sing twenty-four hours a day, I have to find other things to fill my time with."

Once the trunk was packed with Rachel's boxes they squeezed the remaining few into the back seat and Santana drove where Rachel told her to. They turned off the highway and then off of that road and then onto a gravel road. They really were out in the middle of nowhere. With one last turn they were on a perfectly paved driveway approaching what was probably the biggest house Santana had ever seen. She pulled up next to the garage as per Rachel's instructions. The short brunette leaned over and pressed Santana's car horn twice and a young man about their age with eyes and hair matching Rachel's came running out of the house pulling a dolly.

"Hi Ben!" Rachel greeted the young man with enthusiasm.

"Hey, who's your friend?"

"Ben, this is Santana Lopez. Santana, this is my cousin Ben."

Santana gave a nod and popped open the trunk. She reached in to get one of the boxes and Ben all but shoved her out of the way.

"I got it," he said. "You guys can go inside, Greta made lemon pie and lemonade. And the pool guy cleaned today. I'll put this stuff in the shed, okay Rach?"

Rachel nodded. "Take Santana's bag up to the room next to mine, if you don't mind."

Santana growled a little at the young man as he reached for her bag but before she could say anything Rachel grabbed her arm and led her through one of the side doors of the house and into the kitchen. The space was massive. There was a middle aged plump woman humming happily at the stove and three pies on the kitchen island. Rachel reached for one and the woman at the counter cleared her throat.

"What do you think you're doing, Miss Rachel Berry?"

"Uh…"

The woman turned around and her mouth turned into a frown but Santana could see the woman's eyes sparkle. "You come in this house earlier and run upstairs to get rid of your things and then go back to that fireworks stand without so much as a 'hello' to your favorite cook and now you come into my kitchen and try to steal a slice of my pie? I don't think so."

Rachel bounded over to the woman and enveloped her in a hug. "I'm sorry, Greta. You know how Independence Day has the tendency to over-excite me!"

"One day you're going to blow yourself up!"

"At least it'll be a spectacular death and very colorful!" Rachel grinned.

Greta shook her head. "And who might this lovely young lady be?" There was a hint of a smirk on Greta's face. "A gir-"

"A friend!" Rachel cut her off. "Santana…is my friend."

Santana stuck out her hand and introduced herself, her mother's voice in the back of her head yelling that she wasn't raised in a barn and she knew how to make a proper introduction.

"Santana Lopez," she said with a smile. "We're in glee club together. And apparently we share a love for explosives."

Greta wiped her hand on her apron and took Santana's hand in a firm handshake, all the while smirking like she knew something Santana didn't.

"Santana Lopez…" the woman repeated. She shot a glance to Rachel. Santana looked in the same direction just in time to see the short brunette's eyes go wide and a blush tinge her cheeks. "Well, Santana, if you're a fan of lemon pie there's one already cut into in the refrigerator." Greta let go of her hand. "The rest are for my church social tomorrow evening, assuming the two of you don't set fire to the house with your experiments."

Santana smiled a little. Rachel quickly started raiding the refrigerator produced a bright yellow pie. She cut two thick slices and plated them, handed one to Santana and took the other for herself.

"Nice meeting you," Santana said as Rachel pulled her out of the kitchen.

Greta nodded and chuckled.

Rachel led Santana outside to the back deck. Santana stared in awe at the immaculate flower gardens beyond the crystal clear swimming pool and hot tub. It was a sea of color gently swaying with the soft breeze flowing through the back yard. Santana took a seat next to Rachel on one of the three porch swings overlooking the pool and gardens.

"So your family's like, loaded?"

Rachel chuckled. "We are rather affluent, yes."

"Shouldn't you be spending summers in New York or Europe or something? Why the hell are you in Indiana?"

"It's become tradition that I spend the month of July here while my dads go on a cruise. They don't approve of me traveling great distances on my own and I refuse to have a hired chauffeur. I rather enjoy it, though, mostly for the simple fact that I get to spend a few days in the workshop trying new things."

Santana nodded. "Right. I think I'd take the hired chauffeur and go somewhere."

The pair finished their pie in silence as the temperature rose a few degrees. Santana felt a sweat breaking out on her forehead and the pool was looking more appetizing than assembling aerial shells right then.

"Would you like to go for a swim?"

Santana snapped her head to the left and furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you a freakin' mind reader or something?"

"You were staring at the pool like a wolf at a raw piece of meat, Santana. It honestly didn't take much to deduce that you were contemplating throwing yourself into it."

"I don't have a suit."

"I'm sure I have one you can borrow."

After dropping their plates in the kitchen, Santana followed Rachel up the stairs and into what she assumed was the brunette's bedroom. The walls were pale pink, the canopy bed was immaculately made. All of the furniture was white and there was barely a touch that said Rachel lived there. No Broadway posters or Care Bears.

Rachel pulled open one of the dresser drawers and pulled out a red one piece and tossed it at the Latina. Santana shrugged, she was normally a bikini person but she figured this would have to do.

"The next door on your right should have your things in it," Rachel said. "You can change in there."

Santana nodded. Her room looked similar to Rachel's aside from the fact that it was pale yellow instead of pink. She changed into her suit and met the shorter brunette, wrapped in a towel, in the hallway. Rachel led the way back downstairs and outside, Santana immediately dove into the deep end of the pool. The water felt spectacular. It was perfect. Just as she came up there was a splash near her and Rachel surfaced and pushed her hair back out of her face. Santana blinked a few times and stared.

Rachel had chosen a black, barely there bikini and Santana couldn't figure out for the life of her why Rachel hid under ugly animal sweaters. She treaded water as she watched Rachel swim to the opposite side of the pool, her shoulders and back muscles twitching and working. Once she reached the other end she stood and Santana had hold back what could've been an embarrassingly loud moan. The water was up to Rachel's hips, her toned stomach glistening with beads of water. Santana's eyes raked over the girl's body and she took in every curve, the swell of each breast, every droplet of water on tanned skin.

"Is the temperature satisfactory?" Rachel asked.

Santana shook her head, breaking her from her trance on Rachel's body.

"Yeah, it's great."

The Latina swam a few strokes until she could touch bottom, her eyes locked with Rachel's again. The shorter girl smirked and moved a little closer. Santana found herself extremely grateful that they were far away from Lima, Ohio at that moment because if she was caught ogling Rachel Berry it would be the end of her. Inexplicably, ever since Rachel had spouted off about fireworks, the urge to torture the girl into oblivion had left Santana completely. Sure, she'd been a little nicer to her that year because glee club was kicking ass and taking names and it made Santana pretty damned happy but she still called Rachel names like "Treasure Trail" and "Stubbles" and Rachel shrugged it off. Now, though? This was full on attraction.

Rachel inched closer and Santana's breath hitched in her throat. Rachel's small grin drew into a devious smile. Santana braced herself as Rachel reached out and cautiously put her hands on the Latina's shoulders. The shorter girl's thumbs traced soft patterns on her skin, her devious smirk still present. Just as Santana moved her head forward a little to try and steal a kiss the pressure on her shoulders increased and she found herself submerged in the water.

When she surfaced she sputtered and coughed to get the water out of her lungs. Rachel's laughter, coming from somewhere, filled her ears.

"Damn it, Berry! I'm going to kill you!" Santana rubbed her eyes to get the burning chlorine out. The attempt was futile because just as she opened them she saw Rachel jump from the side of the pool and the Latina got a face full of water. Again, laughter filled her ears but then Rachel's hands were on her face and pushing her hair back.

"Consider it payback," Rachel said. "Although slushies are considerably colder and more difficult to rinse off."

Santana grumbled.

"Are you okay?"

Santana nodded and with her Cheerio reflexes she grabbed onto Rachel's shoulders and pushed, sending the girl under water. She wasn't quick enough in her getaway, however. Rachel shot up out of the water and onto her back. Fortunately, Santana could still touch bottom and all that happened was Rachel clinging onto the Latina's back and Santana standing there.

"What are you trying to do, Berry?"

"Well it was my intention to dunk you again."

"You're kind of failing at it."

Rachel growled and hopped off the Latina's back and settled for splashing her. Santana just rolled her eyes and headed for the diving board. She cannonballed as payback. The pair spent the next two hours swimming and lounging in the pool. They talked about music, school, books, college, and the weather. Greta brought them cold glasses of lemonade when they got out of the pool and settled on deck recliners to dry off a little.

Showered and changed, Rachel led Santana to the outbuilding that served as her uncle's workshop and her haven for playing with fire. Rachel had her own table on one corner with a barstool on either side. Ben had stacked up the boxes off to one side and they sorted through them to figure out what belonged to whom. Rachel then sorted her own boxes into what she intended on keeping intact and what she planned on dismantling for parts.

The short brunette opened a nearby cabinet and pulled out a box. She opened it to reveal an assortment of exacto knives, different kinds of tape, fuses, pliers, scissors, wire cutters…

"You're crazier about this than I am, Berry."

"The proper tools ensure both safety and quality in the final result."

Rachel rummaged through a larger metal cabinet and pulled out two halves of a big shell. Santana's jaw dropped.

"Jesus, Berry! That's like…"

"It's only a six inch shell, Santana. Last year I successfully built a sixteen inch but unfortunately it was the only sixteen inch shell I had. The rest are either sixes, eights, or tens. I purchased them at the last PGI convention I attended."

Santana helped Rachel cut open the small shells they'd bought at the fireworks stand and the Latina went about separating the stars from everything else until they had enough to line the shell. Santana watched as Rachel positioned the fuse just right in one half of the two shells and proceeded to line the edges. Santana lined the other half, mimicking the shorter girl's meticulous movements. Rachel pulled sheets of tissue paper out of her box of tools and made a pouch in the middle of the stars on each half and filled it with the set aside booster charge from the dismantled shells. Once filled, Rachel positioned the two halves next to each other and took a deep breath as she quickly and carefully snapped them shut. Santana furrowed her eyebrows.

"What the hell was that?"

"If you do it slowly things will rearrange and it could be costly," she said as she set the ball down on one of the tubes, fuse side down, and started tapping the top half to get it to close completely.

"That explains it," Santana mumbled. "I've never gotten one to go off."

Rachel smiled. "Well now you know."

The ball shut, Rachel taped it off and the pair began pasting it. They built the lift charge and Santana grinned at the finished product. She completely lost track of time building different sized shells with the pint-sized brunette until Ben came in and told them it was dinner time. Santana checked her phone, it was almost eight. They'd been building for almost five hours. The tables in the building were covered with finished shells.

Santana met Rachel's uncle and his wife at dinner and they both chuckled and shook their heads when Rachel told them there would be a doubly spectacular large fireworks display for them the following night because with Santana's help they were flying through building fireworks for the show. Santana complimented them on their amazing house and thanked them for letting her stay because once again her mother was in the back of her head screaming that she was a heathen for not thanking the couple profusely for feeding and housing her.

Although the workshop was well lit, Santana and Rachel decided to give it a rest for the night and instead opted for popcorn and a movie with Ben. Santana's eyes went wide when she saw the home theater. There was a projection screen, three recliners, a giant couch with a table in front of it, and a miniature kitchen in the basement of the house. Ben set to work making popcorn, Santana looked through the refrigerator/freezer that was stocked with soda, water, vitamin water, Gatorade, and an assortment of frozen foods. She stuck a pepperoni pizza Hot Pocket in the microwave just because she could and grabbed a couple cans of Mountain Dew.

"What shall be our cinematic adventure?" Rachel asked, standing in front of a cabinet containing rows and rows of DVDs.

"Rach, I swear to God if you make me watch Bring it On one more time I'll go crazy," Ben said. "Or any chick flick."

Santana choked on her drink of Mountain Dew. "Seriously, Berry? Bring it On?"

"I watch it for research! The choreography…"

"Yeah, right. You watch it for the same reason I put up with it," Ben chuckled.

"Shut. Up. Benjamin."

"So you have a thing for cheerleaders, Berry?"

Rachel spun around and smirked. "Probably as much as you have a 'thing' for young ingénues in black bikinis, Santana."

Santana snapped her mouth shut. No matter her retort, she was screwed. She could either insult Rachel (which again, inexplicably the urge to do so had gone away) or she could admit that she was eyeing her in the pool. Either way, completely screwed. She instead chose to sit on the couch with her Hot Pocket and Mountain Dews and stare at the blank screen.

Ben eventually won out and chose The Exorcist. Rachel whined when he loaded it into the DVD player and she took a seat next to Santana. The Latina kept her eyes glued to the screen even though she absolutely hated everything about the movie they were watching. Puck had made her watch it once and she hated it then and she still hated it now. When Rachel whimpered and the diva's arms found their way around Santana's shoulders, though, the Latina hated the movie a little less.

By the end of the movie Ben was snoring loudly and Rachel's head was in Santana's lap and she was gripping onto Santana's knees.

"I hate that movie," Rachel mumbled. "He knows I hate that movie."

"He's your cousin, he's supposed to torture you."

Rachel growled.

"I hate it, too," Santana mumbled to try and make Rachel feel at least a little better. She wanted to smack herself in the face for trying to make Rachel Berry feel a little better but she couldn't because it was in that moment that she realized one hand was tangled in Rachel's hair threading through the silky locks and the other was on the girl's shoulder.

Santana leaned her head back against the couch and sighed. In about twelve hours she'd gone from having Rachel Berry as a thorn in her ass to tolerating the girl to ogling her in the pool, almost kissing her, to laughing and talking, building fireworks, and finally sitting on a couch soothing the girl. And apparently Rachel had noticed the change, too.

"I saw you staring," Rachel said. "In the pool."

"Yeah, well, I didn't know why you would want to hide all of that hotness under hideous animal sweaters."

"So you do find me attractive?"

"It's kind of hard not to."

"And what would Brittany have to say in all of this?"

"Why would she have a say?"

"You're dating, aren't you?"

"Sex is not dating and we're not even doing much of that anymore. She's figured out she likes guys a lot better."

Rachel rolled over onto her back and stared straight up into Santana's eyes. The Latina chuckled at the look of pity she was getting.

"Don't worry about it, Berry. B's my best friend and sometimes we fucked, that was it. We're not in love. I love her, but we're not gonna get married and have kids or whatever."

Rachel smiled a little. Santana rolled her eyes but instead of her usual smirk she fought a smile.

The next day was spent again in the workshop with a break to swim and have lunch. They used Rachel's entire supply of shells and still had plenty of still-assembled fireworks left. Ben helped load them all in his truck and drove them out to the middle of a field down the gravel road they'd come in on. The field had been freshly mown, Santana noticed, and there was already a large wooden platform with several different sized tubes attached to it settled on a flat spot as well as a three sided and roofed wooden shack off to the side that had a hole to see out of.

Santana laid out the fuse from the platform to the outbuilding while Rachel got the correct shells into the correct tubes. They would have to reload a few times because of the amount of shells they had but Santana knew that it was going to be worth it. Rachel said they'd simply set off one of the multiple shot cakes they'd purchased earlier to keep the crowd entertained while they reloaded.

"The crowd" consisted of Rachel's family and Greta, nearby neighbors, friends of the Berry family, a fire truck, and EMTs. A few dozen people in all.

"I thought you didn't have a license for a show," Santana said as Rachel warmed up to perform The Star Spangled Banner.

"We don't. But my uncle donates heavily to the rural fire department and EMT service and they just sort of look the other way as far as permits go."

After Rachel's performance and generous applause from the crowd they headed to the bunker with Ben and two blow torches. Just as the sun fell below the horizon they lit the first batch of fuses sending off six of their homemade fireworks. Santana stared at the sky in awe and with quite a bit of pride that she had been the one to help build those. They lit off the second and third fuses with no problems and while Santana and Rachel re-loaded the tubes, Ben went further back in the field and set off a couple of the aerial shot cakes. The system went perfectly, just as the last of the purchased fireworks went off the homemade ones were ready to go.

The last round of the homemade fireworks Santana handed Ben the blowtorch, told him to have fun, and dragged Rachel out of the bunker. She took her back a few yards where they could still see the show but not run the risk of getting hit by shrapnel and pulled her down to the grass. After the first round went off she snaked an arm around Rachel's waist and pulled her in close. Rachel settled her head on the Latina's shoulder and Santana glanced down to see the girl's eyes wide with anticipation. When the second round went off she could see the reflection of the fireworks in Rachel's eyes.

When Santana heard Ben light the third and final round of fuses she reached over and cupped Rachel's jaw, tilted the girl's head up, and kissed her.

It was cliché as cliché could be, making out underneath the fireworks, but Santana didn't care. Long after she stopped hearing the deafening booms of the colors exploding in the air her lips were still on Rachel's and the shorter girl's tongue was dancing in her mouth.

Santana smiled when she pulled away and Rachel pulled her right back in. The next time she came up for air it was because Ben was shining a flashlight on them and telling them he'd already loaded the truck. Lips barely left lips for the three minute drive back to the Berry house. The last thing Santana was aware of before she finally fell asleep that night were Rachel's lips on hers. They hadn't had sex even though the Latina really, really wanted to but the making out was pretty damned spectacular. Santana grinned before she fell asleep and added "The Day I Said 'Fuck It' and Started Dating Rachel Berry" to her list of things she called the 4th of July.