"I am so overdue for a night out!" Santana was on the loveseat, left foot propped on her right knee as she applied a second coat of burgundy nail polish to her toes.

Rachel didn't bother lifting her eyes from the textbook in front of her. She was perched on a chair in what qualified as the dining room. It was really just a space extending from the kitchenette with a tiny rectangular table. "If my memory serves me correctly, you went out three weeks ago."

Santana capped the nail polish and waved her hand over her toes to speed the drying. "Exactly."

"This is college. College requires focus and dedication to your academics."

"No, this is college, when we're supposed to get crazy and have fun."

"There's more to college than partying."

"Partying is fun; I like it. I can't help it. And I have a 4.0, thank you very much."

Rachel finally marked her place in her reading with her finger and looked up, shaking her head at Santana. "Then go party, but I'm going on record right now that I will not deal with you if you come home wasted or wake up hung over. You can hold your own hair back."

"You're so uptight. Have you even been out since the semester started?"

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "Focus. And dedication."

Santana stood up and walked the three steps across the room to the table. "What are you even studying?" Santana whipped the book away from Rachel, scanning the pages before clapping the book closed.

"English Lit. I was reading ahead to be prepared for next week."

"Reading ahead! No. No, no, you are finished. It's Saturday and you are not spending it in this box reading ahead for English Lit."

"Santana –"

"Non-negotiable."

"You can't make me go out."

Santana tossed the book back onto the table. "Wanna bet?"

Rachel lost the bet. She grumbled and griped the entire time she got ready, making sure to slam whatever drawers and doors she could in the process. Santana ignored her tantrum, content with her small victory.

She was ignoring her so well, in fact, that it scared Santana when Rachel burst through her bedroom door.

"Are you almost ready so we can we get this over with?"

"God, knock much?" She turned around as she finished putting in her earring, stopping short in surprise. She wasn't really sure what to say. Rachel actually looked…decent – skinny jeans, black heels, and a loose-fitting black top with a subtle silver pattern.

"Can we go now?"

Santana hoped her surprise hadn't been obvious. She compensated for it in the usual way. "That's what you're wearing?"

"I based it on what I see you wear. I think this is perfectly acceptable."

Santana glanced down, having forgotten what she was wearing: jeans, heels, and a similar shirt. Damn, she was right. "Fine. Let's go."

They took the subway downtown – way downtown – to a hole-in-the-wall bar in the Village where one of Santana's teacher's assistants waitressed. She and the TA flirted constantly. It was all in good fun, and it had earned the college sophomore an invitation to drink without scrutiny at the establishment.

"I really can't afford to get caught, Santana. NYADA has a zero-tolerance policy for behavior like this."

Santana led them to an empty booth in the corner. "I won't let you get caught."

Her friend showed up a few seconds later with a wink and a smile. "Hey, señorita. The usual? Vodka martini, shaken, three olives?"

Santana returned the smile, reaching out to touch the girl's arm. "You know how I like it dirty."

The waitress's smile grew and she turned to Rachel. "And your friend?"

Santana smirked at Rachel. "Tequila. Straight up. And a decent one, not that cheap shit. And bring a couple rounds and save yourself a trip." She handed the waitress her credit card to let her open a tab.

"Oh, no, I would really prefer –" Rachel started, but the waitress was already out of earshot.

"Tequila. You would prefer tequila."

"Santana, I hadn't really planned on imbibing to such a degree tonight."

"Oh calm down, Short Stuff. I won't let you end up puking in a gutter. Which just proves, by the way, how much better a person I am than you, since I still remember your earlier declaration that I would be holding my own hair tonight."

"You can't possibly compare my choice to let you suffer your own consequences to you forcing me to drink."

"Yeah, I tied you up and hauled you to this bar completely against your will."

Rachel opened her mouth but the waitress had returned with their drinks, cutting her off as she set multiple glasses on the table between them and handed Santana her credit card.

Santana picked up a martini that was so full it sloshed over the side despite her care. She looked at Rachel, and then at the twin shots of crystal clear tequila waiting for her. "Well?"

Rachel sighed and reached for the saltshaker as she licked the inside of her wrist, but Santana reached across the table and grabbed her hand to stop her.

"You don't need it for the good stuff."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you questioning my expertise in tequilas?"

Rachel laughed a little and picked up her glass. "No, I trust you."

Santana realized she was still holding Rachel's hand. She also realized it was kind of nice. She decided to not draw attention to it and raised her glass as much as she dared as a toast. "Cheers."

"L'chaim," Rachel replied, tossing her drink back.

Santana took a long sip of her martini, having to stop when she started laughing at the face Rachel was making. "Bad?"

"God, it's so strong!" Rachel's eyes were watering and she coughed a couple times, pushing her glass away in disgust.

Still laughing, Santana relinquished Rachel's hand and quickly walked to the bar, grabbing a couple slices of lime out of the garnish tray. "Here, you wuss," she said, dropping them in Rachel's empty glass.

Rachel grabbed one of the slices and bit into it hard, sucking on it for several seconds before dropping it back in the glass. "Ugh. Thanks."

"Gonna be okay?" Santana asked over her glass before taking another long swallow. She was going to have to drink quickly to keep up with Rachel and her shots.

"I'll survive," Rachel said with a smile, cheeks still pink from her ordeal. "So, is it safe to assume you and our waitress are…familiar?"

Santana took another sip before setting down her empty glass. "She's a TA in my Constitutional Law class."

"You seem close." Rachel pulled her other shot in front of her, twisting the glass slowly in place.

"Nah," Santana said with a wave of her hand. "I had to meet with her about making up a test. She noticed my necklace and we got to talking. Maybe a little flirting, too. That's all though."

Rachel leaned forward. "Your necklace?"

"Yeah." Santana fished the thin gold chain out from where it was hiding under her shirt, a series of hoops, each a color of the rainbow, lined up side by side as its charms.

"I've never noticed it." Rachel reached across the table, slipping her fingers beneath the chain, brushing against Santana's throat in the process. "It's cute. Subtle, but effective." She rolled the hoops along the chain with her thumb, examining it before looking up to meet Santana's eyes. "When did you get it?"

Santana felt weird. She had liked holding Rachel's hand. Now Rachel's briefest of touches and her proximity had her heart racing. She didn't understand it, but she liked it. And Rachel's cheeks were still flushed. She liked that, too.

"Last month."

Rachel dropped the necklace and sat back, lifting her hair off the back of her neck briefly. "Warm in here."

"Cold drink right in front of you." Santana traded out her martini glasses and waited expectantly.

"True," Rachel said slowly as she picked up her glass.

"L'chaim?" Santana asked.

"L'chaim." Rachel said as she carefully touched her glass to Santana's and drank.

Santana watched Rachel handle the alcohol far more smoothly than the first time and she sat back in her seat, getting comfortable. Rachel was bobbing her head along to the jukebox music as they chatted about school, and the off-Broadway audition Rachel was considering, and Santana's brutal professor that made the merciless lady professor in Legally Blonde seem tame.

"So, you feeling okay?" Santana asked, deciding to stretch her legs out under the table to prop her feet on Rachel's bench.

"I'm fine, how are you?" Rachel said with a bright smile.

"Not mad at me for pinning you down and pouring alcohol down your throat?"

"No, I wouldn't be mad."

Santana felt Rachel give her foot a wiggle and wondered if she meant that slight innuendo. "Then if you're good, I'm good."

"I bet you are."

Santana froze, staring at Rachel who was still bobbing to the music, though she was getting a bit more animated. She decided not to question anything. Rachel was proving to be quite intriguing now that she was coming out of her shell. Why call attention to the personality shift? Tequila did different things to different people. Apparently, it made Rachel flirty.

"I'm the best, baby," Santana replied, tilting her head and glass back to finish her drink quickly.

On cue, the waitress returned, gathering the empty glasses onto her tray. "Another round?"

Rachel nodded; too busy starting to sing along to bother answering. Santana added her glass to the waitress's tray. "Sure, we'll have another. It's still early."

The drinks were delivered almost immediately, and Rachel grabbed hers right off the tray. Santana laughed. "I thought you didn't plan to imbibe to such a degree tonight."

"You're a bad influence," Rachel said with a smile. "Cheers!" She downed her shot without waiting for Santana and without flinching.

Santana sat back again, this time settling in to nurse her drink. She wouldn't need a fourth, and Rachel definitely wouldn't, if the way she was ready to leap out of the booth and onto the empty karaoke stage was any indication.

It was as if Rachel had read her mind.

"Santana! They have karaoke!"

"Yes, they do," Santana replied coolly, intending to keep her ass rooted right where it was.

"Let's do it!"

Santana felt a smile play at the corners of her mouth, but she resisted making a sexual comment. "No one here wants to hear us sing."

"Nonsense!" Rachel declared and pushed herself out of the booth and onto the stage. She grabbed the microphone with a theatrical, "Hello, New York!" but it was turned off and only a handful of people glanced up.

Santana watched Rachel fumble with the microphone, obviously not realizing the entire system was off. Buzzed Rachel was fun, she decided. All her typically irritating traits were completely earnest and genuine and endearing now. Rachel wanted nothing more in that moment than to perform.

She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but Santana put down her drink and stood, first stopping at the bar to ask one of the bartenders if they would turn on the karaoke system, then joining Rachel – though she stayed on the floor in front of the stage. She would not be setting foot on it, God help her.

"Rache. Just wait. They have to turn it on." She heard the jukebox music cut off, leaving the bar in uncomfortable silence.

"It's not on?"

"No, it's not on," Santana said, amused with anguish in Rachel's voice. "Gimme that." Santana grabbed the microphone from Rachel and handed her the nearby binder full of song titles and codes. "Find your song and tell me the numbers."

Rachel flipped a few pages and ran her finger down the column until she found what she was apparently looking for. "34881."

"34881?" Santana repeated, committing it to short-term memory.

"Yeah. 34818."

"1-8 or 8-1?"

"1-8."

"You sure? Let me see that." Santana gave the microphone back and took the binder away to run her eyes down the list, struggling a little with the tiny print. Seeing that 34881 was a hardcore rap song, Santana returned the binder to its table by the stage, giving the bar employee code 34818. She hadn't thought to check what 34818 was for.

When the cheesy 80's percussion – made worse by the karaoke version – came in, Santana groaned. "I'm not doing this, Berry."

Rachel only smiled, opting for lyrics instead of arguing. "I don't know why I like it. I just do!"

Santana backed up but Rachel grabbed her hand.

"You're supposed to sing first."

The song was still in its intro and Santana pushed the microphone out of her face. "You're the one that wanted to sing."

"But you're so good, San!"

"I said no!"

Rachel pointed at the television screen with the lyrics, counting down to the first verse and shoved the microphone back in her face. "Santana!"

Santana didn't know what possessed her to do it. Probably two parts alcohol, one part Rachel Berry having the audacity to tell her what to do.

"I've been hearing your heartbeat inside of me. I keep your photograph beside my bed. Living in a world of fantasies, I can't get you out of my head."

Rachel squealed and yanked her, hard, and Santana stumbled onto the stage, almost falling when one of her heels landed on a cable. She turned to face the front of the stage, and was surprised that most of the bar was paying attention. Rachel grabbed her hand again, swinging it playfully as she launched into her own verse.

"I've been waiting for the phone to ring all night. Why you wanna make me feel so good? I got a love of my own, baby, I shouldn't get so hung up on you."

Rachel tilted the microphone toward her so they could sing together.

"I remember the way that we touch. I wish I didn't like it so much."

Dammit. She was having fun. She shook out of Rachel's handhold and wrapped her arm around Rachel's waist, pulling her close to share the microphone.

"I get so emotional baby!"

They finished the song to a decent round of applause and a few whistles, and she was thrown off balance when Rachel pulled her into a hug. She laughed, and Rachel pulled back, though she didn't let go.

"What?"

"Just déjà vu."

"Well, obviously," Rachel said with a scrunch of her nose before reeling Santana back in for another hug.

Santana returned the embrace, a little high on performance adrenaline, more than a little buzzed on vodka, and a tad…aroused by Rachel's closeness. Thinking clearly enough to know what she was doing, but not clearly enough to care, she let her hand slide down Rachel's back and over her backside, not quite grabbing it but not being so subtle that it could seem accidental. She felt Rachel jump and pull back, a quizzical look on her face.

"Santana."

Santana smiled. "Yeah?"

"Your hand…"

Santana did grab it that time, making Rachel jump clear out of her arms, sending Santana into a fit of laughter that had her doubled over, holding onto the mic stand for support. Vaguely aware that they had left the bar without music again, Santana pulled herself together enough to grab the binder and scan the pages.

"Are you going to sing?" Rachel said, fanning herself with her hand.

"Nope. You're going to sing what I pick."

"That's not fair."

Santana found the code she was looking for and gave it to the guy supervising the equipment. "Sure it is. I'm buying the drinks, you supply the entertainment."

"But –"

"We could just leave instead, if you want. No more singing."

Rachel held onto the microphone like a petulant child, keeping it out of Santana's reach.

"No? Then you will sing what I choose." Santana pointed at the monitor on the wall, the song title popping up for a few seconds: 'All By Myself' in the style of Celine Dion.

She saw Rachel's grumpiness disappear instantly and be replaced with a beaming smile. "Did I let you down?"

Rachel shook her head and gave the end of the microphone a flick to get its cord of the way as the mellow song began playing.

Santana returned to their booth, still able to see Rachel from her seat. She had always enjoyed watching Rachel sing. She always gave one hundred percent, regardless of the song – even that atrocious self-penned disaster about her headband. Santana snorted at the memory and sat back to enjoy her performance.

Even fairly drunk, Rachel was an amazing singer. Santana glanced around the bar, noticing that everyone had their eyes glued to her like it was a concert, not like it was karaoke in a dive bar. Rachel was magnetic. Santana felt longing stir within her. She knew the alcohol was partly to blame, but she knew enough about herself to know when she wanted someone. And she wanted Rachel.

But this was different. This wasn't just a desire to just take her home only to kick her out of bed before the morning. No, Santana very much wanted to take her home and wake up with Rachel in her arms. And then make breakfast together. And go for a walk in the park.

"Mhm," Santana hummed to herself as she made a point to finish her drink so they could make a quick exit. A couple minutes later, the song ended and she clapped and whistled with the rest of the bar, laughing at Rachel's dramatic bows before she hopped off the stage to return to their booth.

"That was fun!" Rachel said as she sat.

Santana smiled, feeling surprisingly calm for what she was about to try. "You're hot."

"What? Oh, yeah it's so hot in here."

"No, I mean," Santana set down her glass and reached across the table, trailing her fingers along Rachel's arm until she could entwine their fingers. "You're hot."

"Santana," Rachel said with somewhat of a nervous laugh. "Please don't tease me. I know you don't like me that way."

Santana straightened her leg under the table, dragging the pointed toe of her shoe up Rachel's calf. "You don't think so?"

Rachel shook her head, mouth setting in a grim line. "No. You're drunk. I'm just…you're just acting like I'm one of your…your conquests."

"You're not a conquest."

"I know how you get when you drink. I know how you bring girls home. I know what you're doing. You're trying to take advantage of my state, and –"

"I would never take advantage of you." Santana reset her hold on Rachel's hand, making it gentler.

Rachel shook her head again. "I don't understand."

"Then let's go home and I'll explain." Santana was up and out of the booth before Rachel could argue, still holding her hand. She pulled a little and Rachel slid out of her seat.

"I don't really think –"

"We have to go home sometime. Why not now?" When Rachel didn't reply, she tugged her hand again, pulling Rachel against her. She smiled, careful to keep her usual predatory glint out of her eyes. "It'll be okay. I promise."

They were alone in the subway stop, having just missed the train. Rachel was fidgeting with her left hand, but Santana still had a hold of her right. She felt unexpectedly calm, given the situation. Any other girl and Santana would have been full of nervous excitement, and in an empty subway station she probably would have had her partner pinned against a steel column by a demanding kiss.

It surprised Santana with how easily she had accepted this decision. However, as she thought about it as they sat side by side on a mostly empty train car, she saw how naturally her feelings had progressed. Though yesterday she hadn't even realized she had these feelings, she now thought it absurd she didn't notice it sooner.

Rachel took care of her.

When Santana decided at the last possible minute to forego her offer at the University of Louisville and move to New York City, barely making it under the wire to enroll at Columbia after ignoring their acceptance letter for months (she hadn't even told anyone she applied), the dormitories were already full, and livable, affordable apartments were impossible to find. It had been a complete shot in the dark, knowing Rachel had a thousand reasons to turn her down, but she called her anyway, asking if she could crash on her floor while she looked for her own place. She shouldn't have been surprised by Rachel's acceptance – the girl had tried to be her friend for the better part of their senior year. Of course she jumped at the chance.

Imagine Santana's pleasant disbelief upon arriving at Rachel's Washington Heights apartment that it was actually a two-bedroom. And her roommate? She wasn't on the lease so Rachel had kicked her out upon receiving Santana's request. A new lease and a pen were sitting on the window ledge in Santana's room, waiting for her. She signed it without hesitation. They had been roommates for three semesters, going on four.

When she had a test, Rachel quizzed her on Supreme Court cases. When she was so engrossed in a twenty-page research paper on ethics that she forgot to eat, Rachel shoved a plate of pizza in front of her. When she woke up hung over, Rachel brought her toast and water and tiptoed around the apartment. When she had an emotional breakdown from her demanding coursework, Rachel hugged her and then made her watch Weekend at Bernie's so she would laugh instead of cry.

Santana had never thought about it. Rachel made her feel like she mattered. And maybe, just maybe, she mattered to Rachel. Rachel was quiet, but Santana felt a thumb brushing back and forth over the back of her hand. She met her eyes in their reflection of the window opposite them and a hint of a smile graced Rachel's face. She wasn't fidgeting anymore.

Santana wondered if she was having similar realizations - all the times Santana ran lines with her as she prepared for her next audition, the times she had brought her flowers when she was cast (it was a lot; Rachel was cast in basically every production at NYADA.); especially the times she had brought her flowers the rare times when she wasn't. That night during their first semester that Rachel wanted to make sure Santana got home safely and accompanied her to a frat party – Santana was enjoying toying with the boys' attention until she saw Rachel across the room, repeatedly and somewhat frantically shoving a drunk's hands off her hips. Santana had knocked him out cold with a left hook.

Her knuckles were swollen for three days. Rachel had made ice packs for her.

It took nearly forty-five minutes to get home, even on the express train, and neither of them had said a word. At their door, Santana dropped Rachel's hand to deal with unlocking the apartment. Inside, they put down their purses and pulled off their heels, glancing at each other. Santana knew what she wanted, but on the train she had decided to forego her plan of controlled seduction to let Rachel make the decision.

"I'll be in my room," Santana said, receiving a nod in response.

Santana walked to her room, leaving her door slightly ajar as she changed out of her clothes and into a pair of shorts and a tank top. She brushed her teeth at the sink in her room – she always thought it weird to have a sink in her bedroom, but it was convenient – and turned off the light and climbed into bed, leaving on the reading lamp.

A few minutes later, she heard the familiar creak of her door and she opened her eyes to see Rachel in the doorway. Her stomach flipped, and she knew it wasn't the vodka.

"You can come in."

Rachel slipped through the door and closed it behind her, leaning against it. She had changed, too, and was wearing a T-shirt at least three sizes too big. Santana had to work to pull her gaze off Rachel's legs to meet her eyes. She pulled the blankets back in invitation and waited.

Rachel lingered at the door for several seconds. When she seemed to make up her mind, she moved quickly, slipping into Santana's bed but keeping a safe few inches between them as they shared the pillow.

Santana felt her heart in her throat and swallowed hard. If Rachel had come this far, she had decided she wanted it, and the knowledge turned Santana on. She tossed the covers back into place over Rachel, the anticipation killing her. Rachel's eyes were scanning her face over and over. Looking for what? She didn't know.

"Are you drunk, Santana?"

"Kind of. Are you?"

"Yeah, kind of." Rachel's eyes settled on Santana's in the dim light. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That I'm not…just another conquest."

"Of course I meant it." She paused, and then smiled. "If you were, I would have succeeded a long time ago."

Rachel giggled and pressed her forehead to Santana's. "And you think I'm hot?"

Santana felt her arousal find its footing in the pit of her stomach. "You have no idea."

Rachel sat up a little, propping herself on her elbow to look down at Santana.

"What?" Santana asked, marveling at the way Rachel's hair flowed over her shoulders.

Rachel leaned forward, reaching behind Santana to switch off the lamp. "I think you're hot, too."

Santana was ready with a cocky retort, but before she could say it, soft lips were covering her own. Her surprise must have been obvious, because she heard Rachel chuckle.

She let her eyes fall closed and relaxed into the kiss, fighting the urge to grab Rachel and pin her down. Instead, she let her hand rest on Rachel's lower back, pulling her closer. When their hips inadvertently collided and sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, Santana moaned.

The sound seemed to startle Rachel and she broke from their kiss. She didn't pull away, though. "Are we really doing this?"

"Only if you want to," she replied, hoping Rachel wasn't about to say she wanted to stop.

She felt Rachel's fingertips trail along her brow to her cheek, then down her neck to slip just beneath the neckline of her tank, sweeping back and forth against the sensitive skin between her breasts. "I want to."

Santana didn't need to be hesitant anymore. She would be gentle, but now…now it was on. She recaptured Rachel's lips, sliding a hand beneath her neck to hold her close. Her other hand pulled on Rachel's shirt an she felt it give way, slipping out from where it was pinned between their hips. Rachel's hands were under her tank, sliding up her back only to drag her fingernails down it. It made Santana shiver. She kissed Rachel harder, conveying her approval.

She pulled Rachel's shirt until it was caught at her chest, letting it go to brush her hand down Rachel's back. Her skin was soft and supple and Santana needed more of it. She let her hand drift lower and felt the thin cotton of Rachel's briefs. Rachel's breath caught when she plucked at the elastic, but she kept moving, sliding her palm over Rachel's backside, taking firm hold of it to press their hips together again. She felt Rachel's legs shift and she moved on instinct, sliding her leg between Rachel's, not hesitating to press her thigh against her. Rachel gasped and Santana pressed harder. When she felt Rachel starting to move against her, she grabbed the back of Rachel's thigh, pulling it gently to lift Rachel's knee over her hip, letting Rachel ride her thigh with ease. The shift made Rachel moan.

Santana moved her kisses to Rachel's neck, wanting to hear the way Rachel was breathing and whimpering, learning which spots made Rachel gasp and which spots made her groan. Her arousal was taking over and she slipped her hand under Rachel's waistband to feel the smoothness of her skin, holding the curve of her backside gently, feeling the muscles flexing as Rachel moved against her.

She felt Rachel's hand on her own ass, gripping it and pulling her closer.

"San?" Rachel breathed.

Santana ran her tongue up Rachel's neck, capturing her earlobe between her lips. "Hmm?"

"Can I take off your shirt?"

She let go of Rachel's ear and rolled back a little. "You can do whatever you want."

Rachel hesitated a moment, and then pushed the covers off them and reached for the hem of Santana's tank top, pushing it up slowly. She stopped when it got stuck and Santana sat up a little, letting her pull it the rest of the way.

Santana's head hadn't even returned to the pillow yet when she felt Rachel's hand cover one of her breasts. She arched into her touch and pulled on Rachel's shirt. "Yours, too."

Rachel let her pull the T-shirt off and Santana ran her hand up Rachel's side, grazing her breast. Rachel whimpered and Santana pulled her back in to kiss her. Their tongues battled for dominance and Santana felt Rachel moving against her more quickly, her breaths coming faster. This was going to be over, at least for Rachel, before things really started if she didn't do something. Not that she minded; the destination was the same regardless, but she wanted to take Rachel on the journey.

Santana shifted her weight and rolled them, pushing Rachel onto her back. She detangled their legs and straddled Rachel, earning a whine of protest at the loss of contact. She ran her hands down Rachel's arms to grab her hands, lifting her arms up to pin them above Rachel's head.

"What are you –"

"Shh," Santana said, kissing her way down Rachel's chest. "I won't hurt you." She heard Rachel let out a breath and Santana pushed down on her hands, making it clear they should stay there. She trailed her fingers down Rachel's forearms, and when she kept them in place, Santana moved her mouth over Rachel's breast, teasing the sensitive tip with her tongue. Her hands still on Rachel's triceps, she felt them flex but stay put. Rachel's submission fueled Santana, and she closed her lips, suckling until Rachel's back arched. She worked her way backwards, hands tracing patterns down Rachel's torso, touching all the places her lips had traveled.

"Santana, please."

Santana had stopped at Rachel's waist. She pressed a kiss to Rachel's stomach and grasped the waistband of Rachel's briefs, pulling. Rachel tilted her hips and she pulled them down, avoiding the place her mouth wanted to go to trail kisses down Rachel's right thigh, past her knee, all the way to her ankle as she tossed the garment over her shoulder. She followed the same path back up, this time with her left leg, slowing as she got to Rachel's thigh. She hovered over Rachel, absorbing the surreal moment. After a few moments, she lowered her head, but she felt Rachel's hand under her arm.

"Kiss me."

"I'm going to," Santana said with a smirk in her voice.

Rachel pulled her arm gently. "I need you to kiss me. Please."

Santana lifted her head, looking up at Rachel as she put her arm back in place, grasping her own wrists. Santana moved quickly, bringing their mouths together again. Rachel sighed and nodded, and bent her leg to bump her knee against Santana's side. Santana smiled against their kiss and shifted to lie next to Rachel, her right leg over Rachel's. She played with Rachel's tongue as she trailed her hand across her stomach, working her way lower.

When her fingers finally grazed between Rachel's legs, Rachel tore her mouth away with a moan. Santana waited, and when Rachel's hips pitched up, she caressed her gently. One of her arms dropped and wrapped around Santana as Rachel turned back to resume their kiss. This time, Rachel was the aggressive one with the kisses.

"Don't stop," Rachel whined between kisses, and Santana shook her head.

"Never." She couldn't help but moan when Rachel caught her tongue and sucked on it.

Rachel's hips were canting up into her touch, keeping a demanding pace. Santana changed her pattern and Rachel moaned, "Yes."

Santana committed to it, driving Rachel closer and closer. Santana was so turned on she was on the verge of breaking, and it became a race to get Rachel there before she couldn't hold back anymore.

Rachel's yeses and moans were overwhelming Santana. "Rache?" she said, breathing hard.

"Hmm? Ooh, mmm," was the reply.

"I'm close." Santana worked harder, both to slow herself down and speed up Rachel. "Are you close?"

Rachel slowed her hips, as though confused and trying to figure out what Santana meant. But then she moaned, and nodded, and kissed Santana again.

"Rache…" Santana felt herself slipping. She didn't know how to stop it. There wasn't anything to stop, since she wasn't even being touched. She was at the mercy of her own determination.

Rachel groaned a stifled, "Oh, God!" against Santana's lips and she felt Rachel's hips lose their rhythm, rocking hard against her as she moaned again and again.

That was it for Santana. She let go and came with Rachel, breaking their kiss for good to drop her head on the pillow, unable to do more than gasp for air as she came down.

Rachel was doing much the same – eyes closed, breathing hard, licking her lips. Moments passed, and eventually Rachel's head lolled to the side, meeting Santana's heavy gaze a few inches away.

"Wow," she said, still breathless.

"Uh huh," Santana replied, somewhat dumbly. She had never been so turned on that she came with literally no stimulation below the belt. She hadn't even realized it would be possible for her. She thought it was pretty awesome, though.

"That felt so good," Rachel said, starting to smile.

Santana moved back a little to see her better, but she didn't get far. Her hand was trapped firmly between Rachel's thighs. Not that she minded. "Mhmm."

"Does it always feel that good?"

"It will with me."

Rachel's face lit up with a smile and suddenly Santana was on her back and Rachel was on her knees, pulling her shorts down with determination.

"You don't have to," Santana said, though she worked with Rachel to take them off. She couldn't sleep in those anyway; she knew they were soaked through.

"I want to try." Rachel was already laying along side her, one hand propping up her head, the other teasing Santana's breasts, slowly dipping lower.

Santana didn't know why she was discouraging her. Probably because she didn't know if she had the energy to do it again, and it would likely kill Rachel's confidence if she failed at her first attempt. "I did. When you did. And you didn't even have to touch me to do it, which is pretty fucking rad. So it's okay, we can just go to sleep."

"You don't want me to?" Rachel pouted her lips but her fingers kept inching down until Santana's breath caught in her throat, Rachel's fingers sliding easily against her.

God, she felt good. Santana rolled her eyes at herself and opened her legs further. Was she really trying to stop this ten seconds ago? She felt Rachel exploring and let out a quiet moan.

"You feel…like me."

Santana nodded, and then felt a surge of arousal as the image of Rachel touching herself came into focus.

"You're so wet." Rachel sounded incredulous.

"You turn me on so much," Santana breathed, being driven slowly mad with the way Rachel was touching her.

"God, that's so hot."

Santana groaned; Rachel was getting gratuitous with her exploring and it was becoming more frustrating than pleasuring. Santana reached and covered the back of Rachel's hand with her own, guiding her fingers to the right spot. "Right there."

She let Rachel work out a rhythm and once it clicked, she let go of her hand. "Keep doing that."

She could see Rachel above her, but Rachel's eyes were focused on what she was doing. It was so hot how this was new to Rachel and how awed by it she was, and Santana felt her arousal skip ahead, already getting close.

Rachel knew how to keep rhythm, and she didn't falter. "Like this?"

"Uh huh," Santana managed. "Press harder. Oh, God, Rache."

Santana was surprised by Rachel's kiss and she moaned into it, starting to rock her hips. "Faster," she whimpered, and she heard Rachel moan.

"Close. So close," she said against Rachel's lips, one hand gripping her pillow, the other's nails digging into Rachel's shoulder blade. "Don't stop."

"I won't," Rachel mumbled, biting Santana's lip hard.

Santana lost it at that. The moan that escaped her throat was almost embarrassing, had she been able to care about anything but the pleasure exploding in her at the moment. And it went on and on for several seconds, almost making her cry from the intensity. She grabbed Rachel's hand and held it against her. "Keep going."

"Really?" Rachel said, already resuming her actions.

Santana knew this was a rarity and she wasn't letting it get away. Not now. It was too good. She guided Rachel's fingers, groaning as two of them easily slid into her.

"Oh, wow," Rachel breathed, testing their fit.

"Press up," Santana managed.

"What am I…?"

"You'll know." Santana let go of Rachel's hand again and simply held on for the ride. Rachel was torturously slow, but when she hit that spot just right, Santana's whole body jumped.

"That?"

"Uh huh."

Rachel found the spot again, pressing on it to make Santana jump, but this time, she didn't let up her pressure. She massaged it and Santana forgot how to breathe.

Ten seconds was all it took and Santana was gone. She had no idea where she was, but it sure as hell wasn't Earth. It was a cloud somewhere in the far reaches of heaven where nothing but light and ecstasy existed. She didn't care if she ever returned, but she heard her name in the distance calling for her return.

"Are you okay? Santana?"

She felt her head jostle, a hand on her chin shaking her until her eyes fluttered open.

"Santana? Say something, please say something."

"God damn, Rache."

"Oh, thank God," she heard, and then felt what she knew was Rachel flopping back next to her on the bed. "I thought you were dead."

Santana felt like her limbs were filled with lead, so she didn't bother trying to move. "I was. I was in heaven. It was beautiful."

She felt Rachel fumble for her hand, squeezing it tight. "What happened?"

Santana managed a short laugh. "What do you mean, 'what happened?' What do you think happened?"

"Was that…was that what I always read about in Cosmo? It actually exists?"

Santana managed to get her neck to twist so she could see Rachel, who looked mystified. "You mean you've never found your G-spot?"

Rachel shrugged, and Santana could tell she was blushing on top of the flush of exertion she was sporting. "I never really tried very hard."

Santana squeezed Rachel's hand, wanting to do more but not quite yet able. "Oh, we'll find it."

Rachel smiled shyly, hiding her face in the pillow for a few seconds. "Is this real?" she said, voice muffled.

"Uh, yeah. Pretty sure," Santana said, feeling the fog and lead starting to clear.

Suddenly, Rachel burst out laughing, and kept laughing so hard she nearly laughed herself off the edge of the bed.

It was contagious, and Santana started laughing, too, but she had to ask, "What's so funny?"

Rachel let go of Santana's hand, pushing tears of laughter off her cheeks. "I just…I imagined telling Kurt about all this, and the look on his face, and…" Rachel made a face, imitating Kurt's surprise and then disgust. And then Rachel lost it again.

Rachel was still rolling when Santana had mostly calmed. She needed to get up, and it took every ounce of her strength and willpower to haul herself out of bed and onto legs that protested their assigned duties. She left Rachel to laugh as she eased herself to the bathroom. She dumbly turned on the light, blinding herself for several seconds. When she could finally see, she saw her reflection in the mirror looking absolutely beyond any level of fucked she had ever seen herself in.

"Damn, Berry, who knew?" she whispered as she found an elastic band and pulled her hair into a low ponytail to keep it out of her face while she washed up for sleep.

When she returned, Rachel was sitting on the edge of the bed, her T-shirt balled up in her lap.

"I can't find my underwear," Rachel said with a laugh. She still had the giggles.

"They'll show up tomorrow. Go wash up. Let's go to bed." Santana turned and left.

"Where are you going?" Rachel called, stumbling to her feet and out the door.

"Your room," Santana said, willing her feet to keep moving. "To sleep."

"But why?"

"The sheets, Rache."

"The sheets? Oh. Oh! Eww, Santana!"

"Oh please, don't say 'eww,' it was your fault, and you liked doing it." Santana fell into Rachel's bed, struggling for the better part of several minutes to get herself under the covers after stupidly falling on top of them.

Rachel showed up just as she got settled and slipped under the blankets next to Santana, turning onto her side to face the wall. "I did like doing it."

Santana chuckled and reached out, wrapping her arm around Rachel's middle to pull her backwards against her.

She had thought Rachel had fallen asleep and was on the verge herself when she heard her quiet voice.

"Are we going to regret this when we wake up?"

Santana squeezed her closer. "I'm not."

A beat of silence.

"Me, neither."