Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to Fox and RIB.
Spoilers: Anything up to the Born This Way episode.
A/N: I don't really plan on bringing this that far. I'm thinking one or two more chapters (the next of which is in the works already.)

Chapter One

Santana Lopez sat in her car, staring out the windshield. Glee had been over for about an hour now, but the Latina had yet to leave the school parking lot. She really didn't want to go home. Her parents had been acting weird since she quit the Cheerios, but she couldn't understand why. They never really liked Coach Sylvester, seeing as they were doctors and her training techniques were insane, and she had quit to keep her best friend from being blown out of a fucking cannon (and most likely killed).

The Latina jumped as she was brought out of her thoughts by someone knocking on the passenger side window. She turned to glare at the intruder when she saw Rachel Berry standing outside, her 'Born This Way' shirt soaked through, revealing what appeared to be a black bra. Santana hadn't even noticed that it had started raining. Sighed, she rolled the window down. "What do you want Berry?" she asked the scared looking diva.

"I'm sorry to bother you Santana, but I couldn't help but notice that you were here and its raining, well, you see, my father called and I don't have an umbrella-"

"Spit it out Smurfette!"

"Could you give me a ride home?" the singer rushed out in one breath. Santana frowned, then turned and started rummaging in the back seat. Rachel took this as a no and sighed. "It was worth a shot," she muttered to herself then shook her head. "Thanks anyway," she said a little louder then walked away.

The former cheerleader grinned as she found an old towel she had been looking for and turned to the window. Her grin fell as she saw Rachel was gone. "Where the hell she go?" Throwing the towel into the passenger seat, Santana started her car as she looked around to see if the small diva was still in the parking lot. She wasn't really sure why the thought of the girl walking home in the rain bothered her, but it did. She pulled out of the parking lot and started toward the Berry's house. "Damn she walks fast," Santana exclaimed as she turned down a street, bringing her about halfway to Rachel's house, and finally spotting her. Pulling up beside the girl, Santana rolled her window down. "What the fuck Berry? I thought you wanted a ride home?"

The singer stopped and turned toward the car, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. "I d-d-did," she answered.

"Could have fooled me, considering when I turned around after finding a towel to put on the seat, you were gone." Rachel looked at Santana, wondering if she was understanding correctly. "Well, get your tiny ass in the car before I change my mind!"

Rachel looked both ways before around the car. She hesitated for a second before reaching for the door handle and climbing inside. "T-t-thank you," she stuttered, watching the other girl turn up the heat.

"Don't mention it," Santana grumbled as she pulled back into traffic and toward Rachel's house again. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, watching the shivering girl out of the corner of her eye. "What happened to your jacket?" she asked.

"Slushie," Rachel answered. It was then the Latina noticed a bluish tint to the crew neck of the girl's shirt. "I hate blue raspberry."

Santana chuckled. "Right, your favorite is grape," she said as she pulled into the Berry's driveway.

"How'd you-?"

"Puck." Rachel nodded as Santana put the car in park. The two sat in silence, watching the wipers work to keep the windshield clear. "I'm glad you decided not to get a nose job."

Rachel found herself staring at the other girl, once again wondering if she heard right. "T-thank you," she stuttered, this time more out of shock then cold. Santana just shrugged, keeping her eyes focused straight ahead. The diva unbuckled, not sure what to do and figuring she'd be kicked out any second now. "Do you want to come in?" she asked, surprising herself, but what was even more surprising was the Latina's answer.

"Yea, I'd like that."