A/N: Here we go – let me know what you guys think? :)

And crookedspin, this is just for you ;)

CHAPTER 1

Santana Lopez pushed her black-rimmed glasses back up her nose as they slid down in her attempt to grab books from her locker. Of course, her locker was at the bottom.

"Hey, Lopez!"

Santana looked up just in time to see Artie Abrams, captain of the football team sending a blueberry slushie straight for her face. She squeezed her eyes closed because she hated the burning sensation that they always left. The icy drink hit her face and immediately started dripping down her t-shirt and into her bra.

"Fucking dickheads," she muttered, spitting some of the slushie onto the ground.

"What was that, Lupus?" Artie asked, leaning down so that his face was next to hers.

Santana took off her glasses and brushed the blue slushie from her eyes. She calmly blinked and put her glasses back on so that she could see again. Artie's smug face and big ass mouth were a few inches from hers. She swirled some slushie that was still in her mouth and spat it into his face.

"I said, you're a fucking dickhead," Santana said calmly.

She stood up, violently shaking her long black hair and sending blue clumps of slushie everywhere. Students all around groaned their disapproval at the Latina's actions, but when they saw who it was, they just rolled their eyes and continued about their business.

Artie stood up and pushed Santana into the lockers behind her. She lost her footing on the slippery floor below her and crashed to the floor, her glasses flying off her face.

Crap. Now I can't see anything.

Santana tried to focus on the blurs in front of her and saw one particularly big blur encompass most of her vision. She squinted.

"No one wants you at this school," Artie hissed. "You're weird and you're a freak."

"That kinda means the same thing, dumbass," Santana replied, shaking her hands of excess slushie.

She felt a hand grip her hair and pull her up painfully by it. She winced and tried to maintain a footing, but her Chuggs couldn't seem to find any kind of solid grip on the slippery floor.

"Fuck," Santana muttered through gritted teeth.

"It seems like you need another lesson in how things work around here," Artie said menacingly. "And since it's the start of a new year, I'll give you a reminder. Us jocks take penthouse along with our beautiful Cheerios. All your creepy, talentless Glee buddies end up in the sub-basement. But you, there's a special place for dykes like you."

"Oh, yeah, where's that?" Santana dared ask.

"Sewers."

"Really? I'll tell your mom I say hi when I get there. We had a great time the last time she swung by."

Santana knew that she'd probably overstepped with that remark, but she was so sick of being picked on by these jock losers. It wasn't her fault that they were so pea-brained that they couldn't accept that it was actually ok for someone to be gay. Ironically enough, it was fine for Cheerios to be gay; they didn't get treated any differently, but Santana took all the abuse and taunting and bullying so that her friends in Glee didn't have to.

Santana felt, rather than saw, Artie shove her backwards into the lockers. Her shoulder struck the edge of one of the handles and she winced at the explosion of pain and fell to the floor again.

"What is going on here?"

Oh, thank God. Salvation.

"Just getting cosy with your students, Miss Sylvester," Artie replied conversationally. "I don't think she got the message I was trying to send."

"Maybe if you drew it in crayon?" Santana offered from her position on the floor. "I hear Coach Figgins is accepting that now."

"Abrams, don't make me send you to Schuester," Miss Sylvester warned.

Santana could hear the shuffle of the jocks walking away and she leaned her head against the locker, resting her eyes. She could feel the slushie residuals slowly sneaking into her jeans.

Fucking great. I only have an extra shirt here. It's not even first period and I have to deal with remnants of blueberry slushie in my jeans.

"Santana?"

"I'm ok," she mumbled. "Could you see if you can find my specs? I can't see anything."

"Here they are," another softer voice said.

"Thanks, Quinnie," Santana said, holding her hand out. She felt the frame being pressed into her palm and put them on.

"Ah, to see the world in all its ugliness,' she quipped. "Maybe I should just stay blind."

"You're suck a dork," Quinn said with a smile.

Santana shrugged and pushed herself up, her shoulder jarring against the door. She hissed in pain and turned her head to see a red mark on her shirt. She frowned and lifted the sleeve to show a small cut in her shoulder where she'd hit the handle.

"What in the hell happened, San?" Quinn cried, gripping Santana's arm.

"Easy on the lock down, Quinnie," Santana said, trying to shake her arm free. "I just hit my shoulder is all. It'll be fine. Miss Sylvester, do you think I could be excused from my first period to get cleaned up? Or at least have a late pass? I can't sit in this stickiness all day."

Sue Sylvester nodded. "Come and pick it up from my office when you're done, Santana."

The Latina turned back to her locker and grimaced. Her textbooks and notebooks were covered in slushie.

"Fuck!" she swore under her breath. "This is just really inconvenient."

"San," Quinn said sympathetically.

"Don't, Quinnie," Santana interrupted, holding up her hand. "I stand by what I told those assholes last year, ok? I'm not about to let everyone in New Directions suffer because we go to school with a bunch of close-minded ignoramuses."

"I don't think that's a word."

"Of course it's a word!" Santana snapped, pulling her extra shirt out from the back of her locker. "It's of Latin origin around the sixteenth century."

"Seriously, you say stuff like that and you wonder why people treat you like you're a weirdo." Quinn shook her head.

"Wow, so nice to know that I have a best friend who supports me," Santana said dryly. She pulled out the books she'd need for her classes until lunch (she was one of those kids who was the last in class because she always had some random question for the teacher).

"I'll see you in Physics," Santana mumbled, heading for the locker room.

She dumped her books on the bench, grimacing at the sticky blue slushie now covering her hands.

"So gross," she muttered, her voice echoing slightly in the empty locker room.

She put her bag in her gym locker and pulled out her body wash and shampoo. After being slushie target practice for the final two months of her freshman year and now the start of sophomore year too, Santana was always prepared. Miss Sylvester had tried time and time again to talk Santana out of the arrangement she had with the jocks and cheerleaders. She didn't think it was fair that Santana bore the brunt of the bullying. Of course, Principal Schuester was so oblivious to what was happening because he was too focused on making sure that Emma Pillsbury was always happy. And that meant that the Cheerios got whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.

Fucking cheerleaders.

Santana rolled her eyes and pulled her ruined shirt off. She frowned. It was one of her favourites too. It was difficult for her to find Captain America shirts in her size. She'd have to give it to her mom to take to the dry cleaners. Maybe they could salvage it.

She reached inside her locker and pulled out one of the plastic bags she kept there, stuffing her dirty shirt inside and putting it in her backpack. She was reminded of the condition of her books and went to grab some paper towels before straddling the bench and wiping them off. The notebooks weren't a problem – she had plenty of those at home. The textbooks however, were school property and her parents would kill her if they had to fork out cash to cover them. They'd tell her to cover the cost and she really didn't want to dip into the savings for her new computer.

Santana pulled her iPod out of her bag, put the earphones in and hit shuffle. She let the music wash over her as she carefully cleaned off the excess slushie mess on her books.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you could at least talk to her about it," Rachel Berry said, rolling her eyes. "Coach Pillsbury might even go for it."

"Rach, I don't care what Coach Em says," Brittany Pierce replied hotly, flicking her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder. "Puck is obviously just going through some sort of mid-high school crisis thing."

"Mid-high school crisis is growing his hair into that ridiculous Mohawk," Rachel replied, pausing at her locker and spinning the dial "It is not joining the fucking Glee Club. What in the hell did you do to him to make him go there to get his kicks?"

"Excuse me?" Brittany asked, drawing herself to her full height and towering over the petit (but lethally strong) brunette. "You wanna run that by me again, Berry?"

"Jesus, relax," Rachel chuckled. "Defensive, much?"

Brittany snorted and folded her arms as she waited impatiently for Rachel to get her books out. Puck, her on again, off again plaything, had decided to completely fuck her reputation down the toilet and go and join the retards of Glee Club.

The previous week, everything had been pretty fucking dandy. She'd had a solid, reliable booty call and some arm candy when she needed it. Hey, as Head Cheerio, she needed to keep up appearances. It had been a huge shock at cheer booty camp that summer when Emma Pillsbury had named Brittany, a sophomore, as her new captain. Needless to say, the seniors were very unhappy, but before Coach Em had had a chance to chew them out, Brittany had beaten her to it. Needless to say, Brittany's leadership abilities hadn't been questioned again.

Then, out of fucking nowhere, Puck came up to her and said that he was in Glee Club and they couldn't see each other anymore. When Brittany had demanded an explanation, he'd vaguely mumbled something about priorities in life.

Brittany had done her due diligence and given him a very public backhand through the face (she was pretty sure his face was still bruised) and as far as the school was concerned, she'd dumped him.

But one question burned. Why? What was in Glee Club that had Puck completely captivated? Unless…

"Oh, hell, no," Brittany breathed.

Rachel slammed her locker closed and looked up at Brittany in confusion. "What?"

"What if he joined Retards R Us because of a guy?" Brittany whispered conspiratorially.

Rachel raised an eyebrow and headed for the locker room. "Ok, first of all, Puck? Gay? My gaydar is idiot proof. Trust me, I would've seen that one coming. And second, being gay wouldn't hurt any of us. We're the top dogs."

"Just because you like chasing muff, doesn't mean it's for the rest of us," Brittany snipped, stopping at the locker room. "Why are we here?" It didn't matter that they were late for first period. All the teachers were so petrified of the 'Ginger Ninja' (self-proclaimed) that her Cheerios, especially her Head Cheerio, could pretty much do whatever they wanted.

"I forgot my spankies after morning practice," Rachel said with a smirk, twirling her short skirt and advertising the black thong she was wearing.

"Christ, Rachel, I don't need to see that shit," Brittany said, making a face.

Rachel chuckled and pushed the door open, heading straight for the back of the girls' locker room that house the Cheerios' private showers and lockers.

Rachel grabbed her spankies from her locker and pulled them on, checking her perfect make up and blowing a kiss at her reflection.

They turned to leave when a sound caught Brittany's attention. She held up a hand to stop Rachel and headed toward the source. As they got closer to the normal lockers, Brittany could hear something singing softly. Whoever it was had a pretty good voice, not that Brittany knew much about singing.

Rachel poked her and raised an eyebrow. Brittany just shrugged in response.

We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to…
I go back to us…

Brittany peered around the corner and the first thing she saw was a bare tan back with long dark hair that was kinda sticking up everywhere.

"I know her," Rachel whispered. "That's Santana Lopez. She's in Glee Club. And she's the only other lesbian at school."

Brittany rolled her eyes at Rachel's predatory look. "Yeah, I also heard that she does that live action role playing on the weekends and that she's on the school decathlon team. You really wanna slum it, Rach?"

Brittany let her eyes wander over the school weirdo. She wore the lamest t-shirts to school every day and got a slushie at least three times a week. She knew because she was the one who had issued the order. Towards the end of last year, Santana 'Lupus' Lopez had approached the jock and cheerleader tables in the cafeteria and demanded that if they were going to slushie or dumpster-toss anyone that it be her and they were forbidden to touch any of the other Glee Club members.

She'd looked pretty fierce and determined and hey, who didn't love an easy target? The jocks were guaranteed a slushie attack and order was maintained. They definitely couldn't have these damn show choir degenerates thinking that they were better than they were.

And you want to join them.

"Pffft," Brittany said aloud, causing Rachel to give her a strange look.

"Come on," Brittany said. "I think you've got enough for your spank bank."

Rachel blushed a little, but Brittany saw her eyes rake over the Latina's tanned, toned half-naked body.

Not that she'd noticed or whatever. Please, she was so not into that. Puck could definitely vouch for that. Oh, crap. What if she'd turned him gay?

She would honestly die if he came out of the fucking closet after having been with her.

She sent him a quick text.

Puckerman, if you turn fag, I will personally castrate you.

Feeling a little better, Brittany slipped her phone back into her bra and headed to Physics.

Rachel couldn't stop thinking about Santana. Sure, she was a little batshit crazy, but you know what they said about crazy people – sex with them was awesome. And Rachel Berry could definitely use some awesome sex.

Being openly gay had its advantages. Over the summer, she'd been laid a good number of times, sometimes with repeat performances. Ninety percent of those conquests had been girls who were curious and Rachel had simply shown them a good time. She wasn't about converting every girl that she came across. If a good time was on offer, then Rachel took it and ran – straight to her bedroom.

She'd heard the rumours about Santana just before Christmas in freshman year, after some wannabe popular junior had seen her making out with another girl in a movie theatre. It had spread like wildfire after that and when they'd all come back after winter break, Santana didn't seem to care what people thought of her. She took the daily slushies and weekly dumpster tosses without complaint and even though Rachel wouldn't have been caught dead talking to her, part of her had to admire Santana for her determination.

Rachel had always known she was gay. She had two dads so homosexuality was hardly an unknown thing to her. When she was ten and realised that she watched the girls during her swim meets more than the boys, she figured that maybe she liked girls. She had her first kiss at age twelve with one of the girls from cheer camp. She'd run away crying afterwards, but the experience had later only cemented Rachel's realisation that she definitely liked girls. She didn't need to validate it by kissing or sleeping with boys, unlike Brittany.

Her friendship with Brittany was unorthodox, to say the least. They were both arrogant, overpowering and promiscuous. It was an inevitability that they would be the top two at McKinley within a year. Brittany had taken Rachel under her wing at their first cheer camp at the age of eleven. The brunette had told Brittany about her female preference and Brittany had, at first, shunned the idea, but after seeing Rachel's confidence and skill, she'd decided that they would be best buddies and they'd steadily become a formidable duo. Rachel had understood the hierarchy and let Brittany take the top dog spot. She was quite happy to play second fiddle because it meant she still got to do what she wanted to without being as in the spotlight as Brittany.

Rachel came out right after Santana, when they came back from winter break in freshman year. She'd been snapped by a fellow Cheerio walking a prospective lay back to her house. Needless to say, the picture had been…saucy. Rachel hadn't cared and her dads had made sure that Schuester wouldn't let any harm come to their precious Cheerio with all sorts of threats. Rachel smirked to herself. Schuester didn't cope well with threats. She'd lost count of how much shit she and Brittany had gotten away with by simply mentioning having a certain mayor's name on speed dial.

So…Santana.

The nickname had been one of Brittany's more genius creations. Santana hardly did anything to discourage people's opinions of her, but she didn't seem to care. So Brittany and Rachel had kind of ignored her after the first week of solo Santana attacks. It was easy to get bored when you see the same person with a different colour covering their face day after day.

As they walked towards Physics, Rachel's mind ran through the image of the Latina's body. She definitely hadn't thought Santana was hiding that under those unflattering clothes she always wore. Well, actually, now that she thought about it, her jeans were always pretty form fitting and her shirts weren't baggy – in fact they were quite tight. She didn't even think that they made shirts like that for girls. She always looked comfortable and kinda sexy in her own way. Now that Rachel what was going on underneath those clothes, maybe this idea of Brittany's to join Glee Club wasn't such a bad one. She could sort out whatever her issue with Puck was, and she could put in some face time with Santana.

After all, she had to get some kind of action with the only other lesbian at McKinley. Right?

Santana ran to get to her last class. She'd ended up getting carried away, talking to Mr. Jones about quadratic equations and decided to take a shortcut past Emma Pillsbury's office even though the entire corridor was generally off limits to anyone not wearing a ridiculously short red skirt. She felt a book starting to slip out from her overcrowded arms and, still running, tried to keep it in place, momentarily taking her eyes off the path ahead of her. The next thing she knew, she had collided with someone at full sprint, sending her flying through the air and landing hard on her already injured shoulder.

Santana groaned in pain and rolled around, trying to stand up. At least her glasses had stayed on her face this time, miracle of miracles. Her arms were empty though, which meant that all her books and notes were now scattered around the floor.

Fuck! Fuck! She was going to be late for Spanish.

Santana hated being late for class, even if it was for a subject that she was fluent in.

"Who the fuck?" someone growled as they picked themselves off the floor at Emma Pillsbury's doorway. "Oh."

Santana pushed herself up, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. She started gathering her books together when someone handed her a small pile. She looked up and saw Rachel Berry smiling down at her.

Rachel Berry? Cheerio Rachel Berry was smiling at her. Her. Santana 'Lupus" Lopez. Santana Slowpez. Nicknames that she'd help manifest.

Santana glared at the Cheerio. "Thanks," she said through gritted teeth. She took the books roughly and stood up, quickly picking up the rest of her stuff.

"Santana!"

The Latina froze. Had Rachel Berry just willingly called her name? Her first name? She turned around slowly and saw Rachel jogging up to her.

"Uh, your shoulder is bleeding," Rachel said, pointing to the red spot on Santana's white shirt.

Santana rolled her eyes. "That's nothing. I'll be fine."

She turned around and continued her quick walk to Spanish, trying to shake off the feeling that Rachel was staring at her.

"Please tell me this is some kind of joke," Emma Pillsbury spat, looking down in disgust at her Head Cheerio.

Brittany held her strong gaze, determined not to let Coach Em get the better of her.

"Coach, you're always talking about how those Glee kids shouldn't even be allowed on the premises at the school. For some reason, Sue Sylvester has managed to keep them from being cut from the school programme. And also, apparently there's some TV show that's made show choir popular or something." Brittany waved her hand dismissively. "With me and Rachel on the inside, we can finally take down those losers and you can go back to making sure that our school remains clean of losers like them."

Coach Pillsbury sat back in her chair and threaded her gloved hands together. Nobody dared ask the reason why she always wore gloves, but there were some interesting hypotheses flying around, a few of which Brittany had originated herself.

"Fierce Pierce. That's what they called you at junior high, I believe?"

Brittany nodded once.

Coach Pillsbury stared at Brittany for a few minutes before standing up abruptly and walking to her wall of photographs. She stopped at the previous year's national championship picture.

"Brittany, this year I will claim the undisputed seventh consecutive national championship. No coach has ever done it before. Not in Ohio, not ever. This is my number one priority this year. Are we clear?"

Her big eyes pierced Brittany's and she held the gaze. She could do this. Coach Em thought she could and she had to prove that she was capable.

"Crystal," Brittany replied with a tilt of her head.

Coach Pillsbury turned her head, which Brittany took as her cue to leave. As she closed the door behind her, she saw Rachel watching a dark haired girl run down the hall.

"Was that-"

"Oh!" Rachel said in surprise, spinning around.

"Rach," Brittany said warningly.

"We ran into each other," Rachel shrugged. "Like literally. It's fine."

Brittany eyed her friend carefully. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Oh, what? Like join Glee Club?"

Brittany rolled her eyes and headed for her locker. Rachel jogged to catch up with her.

"So, we're really doing this?" she asked hesitantly.

Brittany nodded. "I got the go ahead from Coach Em. I just need to know what the fuck is going on with him. Once I know, we'll focus on bringing them down."

Rachel didn't say anything and just followed Brittany.

Santana was doing a handstand when Miss Sylvester walked into Glee. Quinn and Puck were cheering her on and even though Miss Sylvester told her to right herself up, Santana just straightened her legs and held her stance. She'd stopped gymnastics when she'd started high school, but you don't forget that shit, no matter how hard your try.

Santana walked (on her hands) to the chairs and pushed herself up onto the first step and then onto the second step where she always sat. Her bag was already waiting by her chair. She just enjoyed goofing off sometimes. At the end of the day, most of the Glee kids just wanted to laugh and forget about the shit and remember the awesome part, which was Glee.

Santana had always sung, for as long as she could remember. Her older brother had mentioned that she had a really good voice when she was about eight and she'd taken it to heart. She practised her singing every week and joined choir in middle school. She was disappointed to find out that there wasn't a choir at McKinley High, but show choir was actually better because she got to dance and she hadn't been able to do anything like that since her gym days.

Santana righted herself up and immediately did a back flip back down to the bottom. The Glee Club erupted into cheers and Santana took a dramatic bow.

"What, no roses for your performer?" she teased. "Such heedless confederates."

"Santana, seriously. You speak like that and expect us to understand you," Mercedes droned, giving the Latina a bored look.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Ill-educated ingrates, the lot of you!" she declared, grinning and walking back to her seat.

That was when she noticed Miss Sylvester standing with two girls in Cheerios uniforms.

What. The. Fuck.

"Now that Santana had finally decided to vacate the floor, I have some announcements," Miss Sylvester said. "Firstly, you all know what our policy is regarding new members, so I'd like to welcome-"

"Um, I'm sorry, new members?" Quinn interrupted loudly. "Am I the only one that sees espionage written all over this?"

"Uh, I think she may be right, Miss Sylvester," Puck chimed in.

Santana didn't say anything and simply folded her arms, watching the reactions of the two cheerleaders.

"Quinn, I really don't think you have to worry about these two taking any of your solos," Tina said dryly, resetting her tight skirt.

Santana didn't need to see her friend's face to see that she was rolling her eyes. Quinn stood up and Santana sighed, leaning forward to pull her friend back down before she'd even had the chance to open her mouth. The blonde turned around and gave her a dirty look, but Santana just raised an eyebrow and sat back again. Quinn knew that Santana was only looking out for her. She had a mouth that didn't have an off switch.

"I believe that Brittany and Rachel have prepared a number to perform for you today," Miss Sylvester said, stepping back to allow the cheerleaders to take the floor.

Santana bit back a smirk.

This should be interesting.

Holy crap.

Rachel tried to control her breathing. She was actually nervous and it absolutely had nothing to do with how she'd gotten a full show of Santana's toned stomach and a glimpse of a white bra when she'd been walking upside down. The cheerleader had to admit that Santana had really good balance, and she'd pulled off that back flip without a second thought.

Focus.

Rachel glanced up at Brittany who gave her a reassuring smile. They'd only gone over the number a few times before school, but Rachel had never even heard of it before. Brittany had said that the geeks would love it so she'd memorised the song the previous day and they'd gone over a little choreography that morning – they were Cheerios, after all. They couldn't have a performance without choreography.

Miss Sylvester hit play on the CD player and the small choir room filled with the sounds of Anything You Can Do from Annie, Get Your Gun. Rachel took the lines of Annie Oakley and Brittany, having the deeper voice, took Frank Butler's parts.

Anything you can do,
I can do better.
I can do anything
Better than you.

No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can, Yes, I can!

Anything you can be
I can be greater.
Sooner or later,
I'm greater than you.

No, you're not. Yes, I am.
No, you're not. Yes, I am.
No, you're not. Yes, I am.
Yes, I am!

I can shoot a partridge
With a single cartridge.
I can get a sparrow
With a bow and arrow.
I can live on bread and cheese.
And only on that?
Yes.
So can a rat!
Any note you can reach
I can go higher.
I can sing anything
Higher than you.
No, you can't.

Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can!

When Rachel hit the high note, she could see the surprise on everyone's faces, and took special note of Santana's impressed nod as her foot swung to the beat of the song.

Anything you can buy
I can buy cheaper.
I can buy anything
Cheaper than you.

Fifty cents?
Forty cents! Thirty cents?
Twenty cents!

No, you can't!
Yes, I can,
Yes, I can!

Anything you can say
I can say softer.
I can say anything
Softer than you.
No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can.
YES, I CAN!

Rachel grinned at Brittany as they played out the soft arguing and Rachel belted out the final line in the chorus. She was glad that their choreography was simple because the actual singing was taking a lot out of her.

I can drink my liquor
Faster than a flicker.
I can drink it quicker
And get even sicker!
I can open any safe.
Without bein' caught?
Sure.
That's what I thought-
you crook!
Any note you can hold
I can hold longer.
I can hold any note
Longer than you.

No, you can't.
Yes, I can No, you can't.
Yes, I can No, you can't.
Yes, I can
Yes, I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I No, you C-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-N'T-
CA-A-A-A-N! (Cough, cough!)
Yes, you ca-a-a-an!

Anything you can wear
I can wear better.
In what you wear
I'd look better than you.
In my coat?
In your vest! In my shoes?
In your hat! No, you can't!
Yes, I can
Yes, I can
Anything you say
I can say faster.
I can say anything
Faster than you.
No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can. Noyoucan't
YesIcan!

By this stage, the whole Glee Club was laughing and singing along, trying to better each other at each competition.

I can jump a hurdle.
I can wear a girdle.
I can knit a sweater.
I can fill it better!
I can do most anything!
Can you bake a pie? No.
Neither can I.
Anything you can sing
I can sing sweeter.
I can sing anything
Sweeter than you.
No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't.
Yes, I can. No, you can't, can't, can't
Yes, I can, can, can

Yes, I can! No, you can't!

Rachel was breathing heavily when they finished and was genuinely surprised to see the entire Glee Club on their feet and applauding. She glanced at Brittany, but she only had her eyes on Puck who was wearing a look of shock on his face.

The short brunette let her gaze travel to the Latina that seemed to have commanded her thoughts that day. Santana had a soft smile as she applauded. Their eyes met and Rachel smiled shyly. She couldn't understand why she was being like this. She was Rachel fucking Berry for Christ's sake!

If you turn to mush around her, I will disown you.

Great, her own conscience was turning on her. She raised her eyes and saw Santana look at her in slight confusion. She'd stopped clapping and was sitting down again.

"Well, I think it's safe to say, welcome to New Directions!" Miss Sylvester said with a big smile.

Rachel heard Brittany snort quietly at the name, but it was drowned out by the applause that started up again. Santana had her notebook out and was writing something down. Rachel sighed. There was something about the Latina that intrigued her. Maybe it was her nonchalance, maybe it was her hidden sexiness, maybe it was her determination to stand up for her friends. Whatever it was, Rachel was determined that she'd get close enough to find out why this girl was managing to dodge all her tactics.

A/N: So there we go. These chapters will generally be this kind of length. Let me know if I should continue with this (in conjunction with A Different Life) or leave it for now?

-H