Glee 1. Chapter 1

**a/n**: _okay, so. i decided seeing as i love puck/santana so much i'm going to write them a fic._  
_i don't know how well i'm going to do and feedback on this first chapter would be nice just so i know whether there's any point in continuing. _

_this isn't going to just be puck/santana though. it's called everybody loves santana for a reason. i'm going to experiment shipping her with everyone, because, she's my favorite character and face it, i'll ship her with anyone. so that's just a warning for you. it'll primarily be focused around puck/santana's relationship/friendship though.  
so, have a read. tell me if you like it. i don't know when it's based either, second season but a load of stuff i haven't bothered incorporating like juvie and stuff. so just go with it._

_thanks. :D _

**CHAPTER OO1.  
-**_ everybody loves santana_**.**

The room was so silent, that to any passersby, it would surely be empty. The wind was picking up and echoed outside the house, whistling through the winter bare trees and banging a next door neighbour's gate that hadn't been properly latched shut. A television showed an old movie downstairs after being ignored the night before and left without being turned off and there was a steady drip from a tap in the en-suite bathroom that still hadn't been fixed. But that room though? It wasn't empty. Or disturbed by the noises beyond its walls. Instead lay two, silently slumbering teenagers who weren't used to sleeping together without the sex anymore. It was never innocent like it used to have been when they were younger_. Until now_. Here they were, just sleeping. She looked vulnerable, wrapped up in his famously strong arms, breathing softly. But she wasn't. She wasn't even vulnerable to him anymore, like she was in the past. When he was the one she trusted to tell anything. It was almost like she'd somehow forgotten to have feelings. And definitely how to trust him. He looked strong, but he wasn't so sure that was true either. Strong physically, sure, but mentally he felt like he was crumbling. Looks could be deceiving and he had learned that long before now. He wasn't strong. He was weak.

Noah Puckerman's eyes opened slowly and took their time to adjust to the light. He didn't move for fear of waking up the Latina that he was reluctant to release from his arms. Not for any reason but the sheer and simple fact he missed spending time with his friend. His _best_ friend. Not his friend with benefits. Or his girlfriend that he'd carelessly discarded, all to chase after the celibate princess who was marginally more of a challenge. A better and more interesting conquest. But he had been wrong, and it had left him with a baby that he was powerless to love – ending only in disappointment when he had no choice in her being adopted out of his life. Even if it wasn't his choice, he was still a failure of a father. Just like his own had been to him.

Taking in a deep breath through his nose, as if to clear his thoughts away, he involuntarily inhaled her scent and forgot to exhale. Like it was, in a way, letting her go again. She, herself, smelled like Sandalwood from some mystery product that kept her skin so much softer than anyone else's. But her hair smelled like coconut and something sweet that he couldn't put a name to and it was making him hungry. He let a finger trace up her arm, following the veins that were showing clearly through her skin, and he couldn't help wondering whether she needed him like he needed her. While he was off trying to make his peace with Quinn and had totally ignored her like she didn't exist, had she learned she didn't need him after all? That life was just as easy to handle without him?

"Stop it." she groaned, clearly irritated. "That tickles and I'm trying to sleep."

How long had she been awake? Her voice had caught him a little by surprise and his hand had stilled before he'd fully understood what she'd even said to him.

"Sorry." He mumbled in response, letting his much larger hand lay flat on her arm.

She didn't move, or speak again and he wondered whether or not she'd gone back to sleep.

Pouting his famous Noah Puckerman pout, he let his finger trail down the rest of her arm, slowly at first to test her, following the maze of veins on the back of her hand.

"Puck, for fuck sake." She said, louder this time, grabbing his hand and squeezing it in a way which caused his knuckles to grind painfully past each other. He yelped in pain and so she let it go, shuffling away from him and curling back up into her foetal position under the covers.

"Jesus, San." He scowled, flexing his fingers a little. She had a killer grip. He'd almost forgotten.

"You should have stopped when I asked. I'm not patient in the morning."

He bit back questioning whether she was ever patient for fear of losing his hand this time.

"Yeah no shit. You didn't have to break my hand."

Santana yawned and straightened out her body, stretching her arms above her head and pointing out her toes.

"Don't be such a drama queen Puckerman." She strained, before letting her body relax once more, rolling over with a sigh of effort so she could face him. "Your hand is fine."

His hand was fine, he knew that, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt at that particular moment in time. Catching her yawn, he followed suit, letting out a grunt as he got comfortable in a new position which lacked her in his hold.

Santana ran her fingers through her sleep-scruffy but still adorable hair before letting her hands dip down to the button fastening her skinny jeans. The pain of the metal digging into her stomach wasn't negligible like it had been last night when she was practically dying from exhaustion and they _needed_ to be undone. The day had been long, like any Friday was when she just wanted school to be over so she could let her weekend begin. Not that she had anything exciting planned. That was why she had let Puck stay over in the first place. She was hoping maybe they would have some no-strings attached sex and she could make him leave the next morning before her mother got back from the night shift at work, no questions asked. It wouldn't have been the first time and she was under no impression it would be the last. But he'd turned down every attempt she'd mustered up at a flirtatious advance or even the opportune moments she'd given him to kiss her. Was he really still holding a torch for Quinn fucking Fabray? Usually, she played no games and as soon as he was through the door she was partial to tearing his clothes off before they even made it to her bed. But she was tired and she wanted to feel needed for a change. Like he wasn't doing it because she wanted some. But because he did too. She missed having a guy have to put the work in and suddenly regretted giving herself such an easy reputation.

"Do you want something to eat? I feel like making breakfast." He told her, sitting up and stilling for a moment before deciding he did have enough energy to go the full way and hoist himself out of her comfortably large bed.

Santana stared for a moment. Obviously his shirt would have been uncomfortable to sleep in, but she hadn't realized he'd taken it off. It wasn't like she didn't have eyes and they lingered for a moment, dark and exploring his exposed skin that part of her already missed being held against.

"Actually, me, Brittany and some of the other girls are going out shopping in a little bit." She said distractedly, after glancing quickly at her alarm clock to check the time. "For dresses to the dance."

Shopping was one thing Puck didn't care about, and although a breakfast would be nice, especially when she knew he was an exceptional cook, she really did want to shower and get ready to go out alone and this was the exact little jackpot of an excuse she needed to make him lose any interest in her plans.

"Oh." He nodded simply before smirking playfully and pulling on his discarded v-neck. "Fine. Didn't want to cook for you anyway."

Santana rolled her eyes at him and sat up in the bed, resting her back against the headboard, still watching him carefully. Something was missing.

"Hey, what happened to your nipple ring?" she frowned, noticing it had disappeared. Santana had always thought it was totally hot. And it was kind of amusing to her how he thought it made him so completely 'badass'. Puck was always obsessed with being or at least looking badass, and she remembered when he first got his hair cut into his signature Mohawk like it was just yesterday. At first? She'd laughed and told him he looked stupid, but now she couldn't imagine him any other way.

Puck shrugged a little, looking down with disinterest.

"Quinn doesn't like it, so I took it out."

Even the name made her so angry she could kick a puppy. And what, even though she refused to actually be his girlfriend, she still had the power over him to make him remove something that he had been totally proud of beforehand? Santana hated her and didn't even feel bad for it. She didn't miss her 'friend' like she would have thought she might have before this entire ordeal had taken place. She was bitter and didn't even attempt to hide it. The worse thing was, she couldn't even think of some perfectly planned retaliation which would hurt as much as her sleeping with Puck had and it was frustrating.

Deciding not to take a stab at the slut when she knew that it was just make him mad, she lifted her hand up and made an action as if she was whipping something. With a cute little attempt at a sound to match.

"I'm not whipped." He rolled his eyes, running a hand over his Mohawk.

"Oh, sure you're not. You loved that thing."

Puck chuckled and shook his head before slumping down on the end of the bed at an angle where he could still see her clearly for his next question. He had chosen to ignore her before an argument erupted.

"Who are you going to the dance with?"

Picking guys for the dance sucked. No, really, it sucked. Santana would never admit it to anyone, but she only got asked by losers. It made no sense when she was totally hot, had a smokin' body and was like, the second most popular Cheerio on the squad. Everyone wanted Quinn. Always. God she was sick and tired of living in her stupid perfect shadow. When would it be her time to shine again? Would it really take another baby? Anyway. Naturally, the guy had to be of equal popularity – which, when you were Santana Lopez meant the choices were pretty much narrowed down to the top of the jock hierarchy. One of the football players everyone swooned over. But unlike her, most of them had their flimsy little relationships to fall back on and were already promised away to the girlfriends. Or at least the cute ones were. Karofsky had asked her.. again. The totally repulsive jock asked her every year in sick hope of fulfilling his fantasy of taking her home and doing her on the kitchen floor. Resisting the urge to punch him in the face, she curtly turned him down and walked away. Was he deluded in to thinking maybe one day she was going to say yes to him? A handful of other guys had asked her, with a 'may as well try and fail than never know' kind of attitude.. but the only one she could really go with? Frankenteen. Yes, Finn Hudson had asked her to the dance and she wasn't entirely sure why. All she knew was that it was better to go with the ex-quarterback than to go alone, or worse, with Karofsky. So she accepted with feigned enthusiasm.

Whether she wanted to tell Puck this or not, was another story. Half of her was still hoping he would have asked her himself.

"Finn." She nodded simply, glancing at him to test his reaction. Searching for any little speck of regret in those gorgeous eyes that he hadn't asked her himself. After all, he was a single jock and she was a single Cheerio and it just made sense.

"Finn _Hudson?"_ he laughed, clearly amused by the thought. "W-wait."

Santana frowned, it not being the reaction she expected.

"As in _Finn Hudson_?"

He'd burst into scores of laughter now, and Santana couldn't help but feel a little defensive of Finn.

"Yes Puck, Finn fucking Hudson. You're not retarded, you know who he is. Stop laughing."

He was still laughing and she got to her feet angrily.

What was so bad about Finn? It wasn't like Puck knew the only reason he had asked her was because Rachel had dumped his ass. Although, actually, now she put more thought into it, it might have been obvious. Santana tended to keep away from him as much as possible since she took his big V in the dingy little motel room that night back last year, mostly because the awkward expression he had on his face whenever she attempted to talk to him was almost painful. What strange confidence had washed over him to provoke the idea of asking her to the dance was completely beyond her. And as much as it probably should have, the idea of him using her in pretty much the same way she had when she'd slept with him, didn't even sting.

"Aw come on San, I'm sorry.. I just wouldn't expect you to say yes to that." He said, trying to calm his voice down, but clearly failing miserably as he followed her out of her room and into her bathroom. He was still chuckling and it was really making her mad.

She'd pulled her toothbrush out of the hello kitty cup rested on her basin and had started brushing at her teeth furiously. It also gave her an excuse to stop replying to him, which was good for both their sakes.

Puck watched her in silence for a moment, trying to come up with the best thing to say to her.

"You know I was going to ask you, right?" he added, with a raise of his eyebrows.

Oh, so he decided to tell her this now?

He always asked her, every dance. And regardless of where their _relationship _was at the time, if they couldn't find anyone better, they would go together. Like a friendly pact which meant they would never have to look like losers. This time though, she was convinced he would decide otherwise. Especially seeing as it wasn't long until the dance now and he usually propositioned her as soon as they both knew about the dance. It took her a little by surprise and she spat a wad of toothpaste in the sink trying to mask it. Santana had assumed that he would be warned off asking her, now that Quinn seemed to think that Puck was some kind of personal possession that she could control without actually committing to. It was sad to see.

"Why didn't you ask Quinn?" she asked him, her voice still muffled by the remaining toothpaste in her mouth which she was struggling not to spit everywhere with each word.

"I did. She said no."

He laughed it off casually with a shrug of his broad shoulders, but Santana could see in his eyes that it meant more to him than that. He by no means looked upset, but she could tell he would have rather had gone with Quinn than her and it was all she needed to start brushing furiously again, turning her attention to her reflection in the mirror.

"Come on, you know that's how it goes. We don't have anyone better to go with, we go with each other. That's how it's always been." He reminded her before sighing softly.

It had been like that until he'd started developing feelings for her ex-best friend, of course.

Spitting another angry wad of toothpaste in the sink she rinsed, wiping at the corner of her mouth to remove any of her white moustache. She knew she had no right to be mad at him, because he was right – it was the way it had always gone. But for a change, she wanted to be selfish. She wanted him to ask her because he wanted to go with her and she wasn't entirely sure why. The best reasoning she could come up with was that she really, really wanted to get under Quinn's skin and it was almost enough for her to pick up her cell phone right there and then and text Finn that she had changed her mind. But she restrained and managed to calm herself a little.

It was silent, but an awkward kind of silent which left Puck rubbing at the back of his neck, confused.

"Finn's sweet. He might be a dumbass, but we look good together. It'll really piss Manhands off, too." She mused, pouting a little and smirking at the thought. Actually, the thought of Rachel's dramatic expression when she saw them walking in together was something that she hadn't actually thought of yet and it might just have been the selling factor.

"Wait so who is Rachel going with?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

It had finally clicked then. Idiot.

"I don't know. I'm kind of hoping Jacob Ben Israel. You know? For the kicks. It'd be funny as hell." She smiled, as if the thought was completely rational. Okay, so it would be funny to see them together. Everyone knew that the Jew-Fro had some kind of sick obsession with her and it wasn't like she was going to get a better offer. The only other guy who seemed to be able to tolerate her had asked Santana to the dance. Score.

"What about Britt?"

Clearly, he was looking for a date now, and was desperate.

"Mike asked her, like always." Santana frowned, clearly confused why he was even asking. Any dance, Mike and Brittany went together and his bow-tie always matched her dress perfectly, without fail. It was kind of heart warming really, especially seeing as he wasn't even dating her – and he was, in fact, dating Tina. Santana briefly wondered how she took it, and then realized that she didn't care.

"Fuck, I'm screwed." Puck groaned, picking aimlessly at his nose, leaving Santana shooting him a disgusted look. The boy could be such a pig.

"Uh yeah, I'd say so. Not long left now, all the good ones will be gone and you'll have to take Rachel."

"She makes me want to light myself on fire." He whined, letting his arms fold over his chest in a childish manner to show his disapproval of the idea.

Even though it was about the fiftieth time he'd told her, it still wasn't any less funny than the first and she couldn't help but snort with laughter as she started to run a comb through her hair.

"You should do it. Because then you and Finn can just swap dates halfway through or something and he'll end up with his moustache sporting manlygirl and I'll have you instead of him driving me mental."

"Are you serious?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Actually, it didn't seem like that bad a plan. Except for the big hole where he had to spend half of the night in the company of what possibly was the most annoying human being on the planet. He whined at the thought before nodding his head. It was better than being alone. Or worse still, spending the whole night with Rachel Berry. The thought made him want to gag.

"Sure, why not? It's not a fucking master plan." She scoffed, knitting her eyebrows together as she tackled a particularly tough knot in her fine wavy hair. "You just have to stop hanging out with her and come over to me. Finn will wander off when he sees she's alone and bam. All is as it should be."

Puck looked impressed but she wasn't sure why.

"Sounds good to me."

"Of course it does. Now will you please leave? I need to change."

"Fine." He sighed, rolling his eyes and walking over to her, wrapping his arm around her in a feeble hug. It was almost as if he was scared to, for fear of her biting his head off. Not completely unwarranted. But she leaned into him, nodding her head for a reason she was quite unsure of. It would be a lie to say she didn't enjoy the feeling of his arm around her though. And although she hated him for it, because no one else could quite give the same effect with the same simple gesture, a part of her would have stood there all day – inhaling his scent, listening to his steady breathing, enjoying the general feeling of comfort she always got from her oldest friend. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before letting her out of his attempt at a grip and turning on his heels, disappearing with a quick 'bye Lopez'.

Her lips pressed together as her eyes followed his exit before she turned her attention to the mirror above her basin. She stared at her reflection for a silent moment. Closing her eyes, she sighed softly to herself and rested the comb back on its shelf.

Why did she say yes to Finnocence? And why did she have a twinge awfully like butterflies in her stomach..?


	2. Chapter 2

The dress shopping was painfully slow and so boring she struggled not to pull her perfectly prim ponytail out of the back of her head. In this way, Santana Lopez avoided the typical girl stereotype which stated you must love shopping, because she hated it. With a passion. There was nothing she found more annoying than being crammed in a tiny, badly staffed boutique with a gaggle of airhead Cheerio's who made her want to vomit. In fact, she'd taken the courtesy of putting the dress she'd decided on, on hold so that she could sit away in some corner and merely act like she was paying attention as they paraded around in an attempt to choose a dress which didn't make them look like a fat whore. The only reason she'd tagged along is because Brittany wanted her there (it was way too hard to turn her down) and it gave her perfect opportunity to steer away her peers from possibly purchasing the same dress as her. That would just be humiliating and Lima wasn't exactly the biggest place. The stores which sold suitable dresses were quite limited.

"Are you okay?" Brittany piped up, brushing some of her windswept blonde hair out of her eyes with a mitten clad hand. The ditzy Cheerio was concerned. Santana seemed particularly and uncharacteristically quiet and had done for their entire outing.

It was insanely cold out and everyone's cheeks were turned rosy from the ice-cold wind whipping at them and even layers of clothing offered only slight protection from what was proving to be one of the harshest winters Santana remembered. It hadn't snowed yet, but the skies above were light gray for as far as she could see and it gave the impression that maybe it would. Santana loved the snow, the thought made her smile.

It was just her and Brittany walking now, holding cups of hot chocolate carefully, close to them, in an attempt to maybe absorb some of their heat. The other Cheerio's had decided to tackle the issue of matching shoes, but Brittany and Santana were spared, as they both decided they already had suitable accompaniments for their dresses.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Santana nodded, half smiling before blowing at the steam rising from the hole in the lid of her cup.

It wasn't like she was lying. Everything was okay.. She just felt a little weird. Tired, maybe. The cold weather always did leave her feeling a little drained.

"You look a little pale." Brittany stated unhelpfully, pouting slightly before taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

Santana laughed as her friend poked her tongue out, eyes squinted. Obviously it was too hot and she'd burned the tip of her tongue. Again. You'd think she would have learned after the first couple of times, but nope. Santana was always left hearing stories about the little bumps on her tongue and had to blow on it until she felt better. That might have looked a little weird in the middle of a Christmas-shopping-weekend crowded Lima street, so she decided it would be a little more appropriate after they finished the walk home. It wasn't far from her home and as soon as they got in, they planned on switching to their pyjamas and hitting the movies in Santana's den. They would snuggle up in a mountain of blankets and beanbags and watch her ridiculously huge television just like they'd used to do at slumber parties when they were kids.

"You okay?" Santana chuckled before she was cut off by the obnoxious honking of a car horn and the sound of an engine slowing down to allow the car adjacent to drop to their walking speed.

Santana turned her attention from her best friend, before she got an answer of more than a head nod, to see who the hell it was, a slightly annoyed expression overshadowing her features.

Puck rolled down the slightly grubby window of his truck, his eyes focusing on the Latina Cheerio glaring at him. He couldn't help but smirk. She was kind of cute when she was steamed. His company, sat in the passenger seat, Mike Chang, happily waved at his two friends walking in the street.

"I was wondering if I could ride you home." Puck started, pouting innocently, his statement obviously directed at Santana more than Brittany. "I- I mean... give you a ride home. In my car."

Santana narrowed her eyes at him dangerously before responding to his quote with a swift show of her middle-finger. Transformers was her favorite movie, and he knew it. But did he have to quote it at her in the company of other people? It made her look like a total dork and she could not have people thinking she was a total dork. Even if it was the likes of two of her closest friends, Brittany and Mike.

She gritted her teeth in humiliation.

Puck leaned back in his seat and turned his attention back to the road in front of him, smirking to himself as Mike leaned over, holding two pieces of paper in his hands.

Thankfully, it would seem none of them had picked up on what he'd said.

"Britt, I got tickets for us to go and see the ice skating show you like. The one where my uncle is in the squirrel costume." He nodded enthusiastically. "It's in like, an hour. So I was thinking maybe we could get something to eat first or something?"

Santana pressed her lips together to try and stop herself from laughing. It was cute that he was asking her out and all; he took her to the ice skating every year, even if it was made for children, but couldn't they have at least stopped the truck to do it? Puck was still looking ahead, even though she was trying to catch his gaze to see if he found the whole situation as amusing as she did.

As if they were mind readers, the truck pulled to a stop and Mike jumped out after a quick fist-bump with Puck, darting around the front of the vehicle to stand in front of the now stationary girls.

"I know how you love it.." he said, looking down at the tickets in his hand, nodding his head as if to convince himself it was a good idea before peering back up at her. He kind of looked nervous, which was new. "If you want we can get candy canes too?"

Brittany looked up at Santana, wincing a little. Obviously she realized this entirely clashed with the plans they had to sit and watch movies and eat junk food and no doubt gossip about the two guys in their presence right now, and was in a way asking her permission to say yes. It wasn't like Santana could say no or even be annoyed that her friend wanted to blow her off to hang out with Mike. She and Britt could hang out at anytime but it was rare that Mike plucked up the courage to spend alone time with her, even though everyone knew he totally adored her. Except maybe Tina.. It was too cute and so Santana grinned and nodded her head.

"Go.. Me and the movies will be there next weekend." She told her friend understandingly, who immediately launched herself at her, arms pulling her into a tight hug. Santana smiled softly and hugged her back before continuing, "Just make sure you bring me back a candy cane."

Truth be told, Brittany was the only person who could have gotten away with that.

"Me too!" Puck called from the car.

Brittany naturally didn't get that they were joking, took them seriously and nodded her head, clapping her hands together excitedly as she released Santana from her grip. It made her look a little bit spastic, but it was cute.

"Thank you, you're the best friend ever. Of course I will." Brittany beamed, taking Mike's hand in her own. He grinned goofily and held up one of the tickets for her and before Santana knew it, in a flurry of goodbyes she was left alone, stood next to Puckerman's stationary truck.

"So..." he said, after a little silence, the familiar pout back on his lips again, suggesting that cogs were moving inside that little head of his. That was his thinking pout. "Really, do you need a ride home?"

Now that Brittany had gone, she didn't much want to endure the walk home on her own and she was feeling kind of tired. Turning him down would just be pointless, so, she adjusted her coat, took another sip from her hot chocolate and made her way silently around to the passenger's side, hopping in. Santana held up the cup for him to take so she could buckle herself in, and he did so, drinking about half of it down in one gulp. Clearly it wasn't as hot as it had been because he looked awfully tempted to help himself to a little more before she defensively snatched it back once she was securely belted in. His truck smelt like cheeseburgers and chlorine and it was a scent she was too used to, to be repulsed by, but really? If he was going to try and use his truck to pick up girls like she knew he planned on, he needed one of those pine tree things to hang from his mirror. Maybe they were always too infatuated with his charm to care what state his truck was in.

"My place or yours?" Puck smirked at her, pulling the truck back out of the stationary position and starting on the familiar route towards the house he spent more time in than his own, already knowing what her answer would be.

Santana rolled her dark eyes in response to what would usually be a proposition to sex, holding up the cup and its remaining contents for him. He took it without hesitation or thanks and finished it in a quick gulp, crushing the cup up in his hand and discarding it out of his window, before rolling it up once more in hopes of a little protection from the cold. Santana punched his arm, causing him to wince and rub at it with his free hand.

"With the state of your truck that could have stayed and no one would have even noticed." She told him curtly, resting her elbow on the door, her head against the window. The vibrations caused by bumps in the road made her head hurt, but she wanted to look out of the window.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, glancing momentarily from the road, frowning slightly.

Why was everyone asking her that today? Okay, so two people asked. But that was two more than was needed. Santana wasn't even sure there was anything wrong. It wouldn't be the first time she was in a bit of a weird mood without any explanation for it. Maybe it was lack of sex and that was entirely his fault.

"I'm fine. Cold. Tired. I kind of just want to get home and crash out on the couch and watch a movie without all your bitch talk." She answered honestly, pulling her hair band out of her hair, shaking it out and letting it fall around her shoulders, causing his eyes to linger a little longer than was safe while driving.

"What movie are we watching?"

Santana laughed silently to herself, shaking her head slightly.

Puck never subtly suggested he would join her in whatever plans she had and never did he ask for an invite. If he decided he wanted to join in on whatever it was she was doing, he would state it in a manner which insinuated she had no choice. It had always been like that. He hadn't changed since they were kids. Part of her wanted to tell him she wanted to watch the movie alone, just to burst the deluded bubble in which he thought she always wanted him around and would never say otherwise. But she didn't want to watch the movie alone. And company from him would be nice. Even if just watching a movie was regrettably all that had happened the previous night.

Santana shrugged.

"What movie do you want to watch?" she asked him, tearing her gaze from the people they were speeding past, focusing back on him.

"Fight Club." He smirked, knowing exactly what her reaction would be.

They must have watched Fight Club together about eighty times. Santana never had the heart to tell him she hated it, but he knew. And she knew he knew. When it came to him she wasn't the best liar. If he hadn't loved it so much, she would have regretted buying him his first copy.

"Puck, we watched Fight Club Monday."

"We're not watching Transformers again." He told her in an attempt to sound stern.

"Yes. We are." She smiled innocently, folding her arms across her chest, batting her eyelashes.

Rarely did Santana use the innocent look because being a bitch usually got her everything she needed. But this look worked wonders on Puck when they weren't under the scrutinising and watchful eyes of their McKinley High peers.

They both fell silent and the only noises to be heard were his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as they stopped at the red light. From there, the journey to her place was short, but they still neglected to talk to each other. It wasn't an awkward silence. Silence between them was never awkward, and in fact, was usually welcomed by Santana as a break from his immaturity. He looked as if he was thinking, and interrupting something such an uncommon occurrence seemed like a bad idea.

"We're watching Transformers again." He mumbled under his breath, looking scorned as he pulled up outside of her house, turning off the ignition and looking at her, taking in her cute little wind-swept appearance wholly. There was something about her that was so ridiculously eye-catching, regardless of what situation they were in. Now, it dawned on him. Maybe he should have used the silent time to negotiate which movie they'd be watching instead of thinking up the best plan to get her to dump that loser Finn Hudson and go to the dance with him. Stupid.

Santana led the way up the unnecessarily windy path, pouting and leaning down to pick up a parcel that was on the front step once she reached the doorway. Santana loved mail. She hoped it was for her. Before she had the chance to examine the label on the neatly wrapped brown package, or give it a shake to try and determine its contents, she felt a cold hand sneak its way down the back of her jeans, without any kind of warning, yanking her underwear up as if she was some freshman loser. It caused her to let out a squeak. Not because it was particularly painful, but because she was caught so off guard by his act of complete immaturity.

"Ooohh!" Puck snorted with laughter, quickly taking a step back for fear of losing his head as she turned on her heels, eyes dangerously narrowed in a way which made her look incredibly sexy.

Well, to him she always looked incredibly sexy, but there was something else when she was angry...

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Puck could barely contain his laughter, especially as her mother opened the door with a look of disgust at her daughter groping her own ass.

"Santana Lopez, what are you doing?" she asked, turning her nose up a little.

Quickly turning on her heels, the younger Latina looked at her mother, letting her hands make their way into her back pockets, hastily trying to conceal her weirdo actions. They both stayed silent although Puck looked like he was positively about to burst if he were to hold his laughter in anymore. He was such an idiot and he looked away to avoid the questioning glances of Santana's mother.

Even though they had been friends since they could talk, he knew that her mother wasn't particularly fond of him. It puzzled them both, because shockingly, he'd never given her any reason to mistrust or dislike him. Unlike most other females he came in contact with. And her dad was best friends with his mother; it wasn't like the families didn't get along.

"You've company." Her mother continued, gesturing her hand inside in the direction of their reception room with mild disinterest.

Santana cocked an eyebrow. She had a visitor?

Puck's hand found its way to the back of his neck, rubbing at it awkwardly. Santana just stood there for a moment, obviously contemplating what her mother had told her and he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do. Did this mean he wasn't going to get to go inside? Damn it, he was so full of ideas, too. He'd gotten Mike to bring his ice skating plans forward a day early so that Puck could drive Santana home, knowing of course that she would be in town with Brittany while they searched for the dresses – she'd told him that earlier this morning. He'd even brought money with him so that he could buy her takeout later, while he was the one who sat and watched movies with her before he would seriously ask her whether she wanted to go to the dance with him. Just him. No swaps with Finn and Rachel. Whoever it was was seriously sending his plans to get his best friend back off the tracks. Suddenly he felt a little guilty and hoped it wasn't a sick aunt or something.

Without another word, they both made their way inside her house and he made sure to shut the door after him, as if to tell her he wasn't planning on going anywhere. Santana placed the package that was in fact addressed to her, down on the side table to open later, and it made him laugh silently to himself how she was still walking awkwardly as they progressed towards the reception room where her visitor awaited.

Well, the person waiting wasn't a sick aunt and Puck involuntarily groaned out loud in annoyance, but thankfully not loud enough for Santana or _Finn_ to hear. It wasn't like he ever cared about being rude or anything.

"Uh, hey." Finn started, clearing his throat a little as if he hadn't talked in days, getting to his feet awkwardly. He looked as equally annoyed with Puck's presence as his fellow Jock was with his own.

To Santana's surprise, Finn looked as if he was dressed for an occasion.

"What are you doing here, Finn?" she asked, coming across as more rude than she had meant to. She knew she intimidated him and he looked nervous enough already.

"Well. We're going to the dance together, right?" he said it in a way which sounded like he still didn't quite believe it and already his voice was grating on Puck's nerves. "So, I thought maybe I could at least take you out to dinner or something. You know, so we can talk about the dance.. stuff."

Was he for real?

Santana was finding it hard not to laugh at how awkward he looked. Well, he always looked awkward, and she never let him forget it...But now especially.

"Dude, where in Lima do you plan on going dressed like that? I burned _my_ Acafellas outfit." Puck snorted with laughter, eyeing him up purposely in a way which would bash his confidence – which already seemed shaky. "Did Kurt pin you down or something?"

Santana folded her arms across her chest. It was pointless defending Finn because she was asking all the same questions as Puck was, just in her head.

"I've got my car. I was going to take her somewhere out of town. I don't need to explain myself to you, Puck." He shot back defensively.

Santana and Finn both remained silent, but Puck sniggered to himself. Did he really thing she was going to say yes to going out with him? Puck wondered to himself. This was blatantly supposed to be a date, right? Santana didn't do dates. It was either sex or nothing and everyone knew it. The most she would accept from a guy was a burger after the deed was done. Or, in their own case, Chinese takeout was more her thing.

"You realize I'm just using you as my date to the dance so I don't look like a loser, right?" Santana finally spoke up, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. Maybe if she was harsh with him he'd tell her to shove it and she'd be free to go with Puck. Assuming he hadn't already asked Rachel, in which case she just wouldn't go at all.

"Yeah, I figured." He shrugged, holding eye contact with her for a brief moment.

Santana felt a twinge of guilt because it seemed like maybe he wasn't using her like she had assumed and there was something flickering in his eyes which looked a lot like disappointment.

"Okay. Good." She pouted casually before continuing, "Then I guess I'll come to dinner. You're buying, right?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course."

Puck stood still, his fists clenched slightly and his expression had melted away from amusement to disapproval. So she was going on this stupid date with him? Fuck. All his work had been for nothing? It was all screwed up because of this _loser_? He was Puckasaurus damn it, why wouldn't she want to spend her evening with him? And after all the trouble he'd been through to pick her up instead of just dropping by. Chewing on the corner of his lip he watched as Finn lit up and Santana turned on her heels.

"Looks like a change of plans. You can watch Fight Club on your own, loser." She smirked, kicking him playfully in the shin, giving him time to bring his leg up and almost trip her over.

Puck turned his head to watch as she made her way up the staircase, a little unusual spring in her step which he noticed as he checked out her ass. It was like she was happy about this shit. Surely she just pitied his ass since he broke up with Manhands, right?

"Did I interrupt your plans or something?" Finn asked as Puck still neglected to leave.

"Nah man, you saved me. Didn't want to sit and watch her shitty girl movies anyway. Nice one." He shot him his signature smirk before pouting a little, "Good luck."

With that, the shorter Jock left and regretted not taking her home to his to watch the shitty girl movies that he loved laughing at with her. Finn didn't save him from anything. Idiot.


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n**_: firstly i want to thank everybody for all the reviews i've had so far. they're super motivational and really make me want to write more.  
especially constructive criticism, that's always good! always appreciate that if you've got some. :D_

_okay, so this chapter is mainly finn/santana but don't worry pucktana shippers, i swear that this will progress into a more puck/santana centered story soon enough (because i can't get enough of them).  
i also apologize for any errors that may be in this chapter (especially near the end) because it's 4:26am right now and i literally just finished this tonight because i can't sleep. i hope it's okay and that you'll still read! _

**CHAPTER OO3.  
**_- everybody loves santana._

Puck laid at home on his uncomfortably worn bed which didn't look like it'd been made in weeks, eating his pizza so fast he surely couldn't even be tasting it in his couple of chews. His eyes were so fixated on the slightly fuzzy picture of his old TV that he didn't even appear to be blinking anymore. That was the way he always was, for lack of a better word on his best friends part, he was a 'pig'. It was boring as fuck though, just lazing about with nothing to do but eat and watch crap TV. His mother had gone out for some stupid girl's book club or some shit. Maybe he'd have gone for the cougars, but there was no chick hot enough to make him pick up a copy of Pride and Prejudice. It would have been the opportune time to invite a girl over for a little action, you know, but everyone he'd called had turned him down. What was this shit? If Santana had started up some gay ass rumour about him having crabs again, he was going to strangle her. Best friend or not. Sniffing, he propped himself up against his headboard, picking some hardened cheese from his thin shirt, flicking it away on to his floor. Santana would have been the perfect person to invite over right now. She could cure his boredom regardless of whether she wanted sex or not. But no, she was out on her date with the most awkward guy he was ever forced to look at.

Picking up his phone, he smirked to himself. Curiosity was getting the better of him, and he kind of wanted to know how their date was going. They would have to have been out for at least an hour by now. Was Finn really kidding himself in to thinking Santana actually wanted to go out with him? Even Puck could tell that she was only doing it because she felt bad. And he was sometimes as socially retarded as they came.

**To: Spamtana  
****From: You  
****At: 20:13  
****Message: sup pretty lady. Hows ur date goin with finocance? Is he borin u to death yet? Bet u wish ud stayd home nd watchd fite club now. ;) Or mayb dun somthin else a little mor fun?**

Now he would have to await her reply.

But she didn't reply, or at least not straight away like she usually did when they rarely had anyone better to talk to. And by the time she had, he was already sound asleep from lack of other things to do, snoring like a drunken sailor. One arm was rested over his head but his cell phone was smothered in drool under his cheek, when she finally did get around to texting back, the vibrations almost made him shit his pants.

• • •

The restaurant that Finn had driven a fair while to take her to was apparently worth the wait and she briefly wondered, by its appearance, how he'd managed to save up enough to pay for it. It was an Italian restaurant. A little to done-to-death on dates for her liking, but she wouldn't say anything, unless the food was bad and this was all a complete waste of her time. It was decorated tastefully, authentically and classy live music played in another room. Well, regardless of how she perceived the cost to be, he'd told her earlier that he was paying and she was going to hold him to it. A little trick called leaving all her cash at home would suffice. Bitch, please. A date with Santana Lopez was all the payment he was getting. She could be at home doing something beneficial to her, after all.

Truth be told? As the night progressed, she was surprised to find she wasn't finding his company as annoying as she'd first assumed she might have. It was different, than the only real time they'd spent alone time together before that – the dingy motel room where she'd taken his big V. There were no awkward expectations or nervousness about what was about to happen because he didn't feel like he was doing anything wrong this time. There was Just friendly (by Santana's standards, at least) conversation that she was actually, at some points, engaged in. It was like he'd turned into a whole different person now she'd actually agreed to going out with him and Puck wasn't stood there sniggering at him like he was some kind of pathetic freak.

Actually, she was surprised Finn could even hold a real conversation.

"So, I guess my tie should match your dress for the dance right? That's what the guys usually do?" Finn asked, picking up his fork in the wrong hand which irritated Santana for a moment.

Santana wrinkled up her nose. It was a little corny.

"Well they don't have to... I guess. It was just a suggestion."

Why was he trying so hard to please her all of a sudden? Whenever he got the vibe he'd said something wrong, he would quickly change it or even contradict himself until he was happy that she agreed. Like a child trying to impress and older, much cooler friend, trying to feel acceptance.

"I guess they could. But I already bought my dress anyway." She shrugged, taking another huge mouthful of food, chewing on it slowly.

Finn's palms were sweating, and he just couldn't seem to relax. She was talking to him and all, and it was nice but he knew she was like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any second if he put a toe out of line. And he was Finn Hudson, the king of the oblivious. He was bound to cross a boundary on accident sooner or later. One that he didn't realize might light her fuse. No one intimidated him like Santana Lopez could.

"Cool. Okay then." He nodded, fidgeting his leg anxiously under the table as he pushed his food around his plate. "What color is it?"

"Red."

Suddenly, Finn had images of the Latina beauty before him in an incredibly short, inappropriately revealing (it was a fantasy, he could embellish) red cocktail dress. His thoughts like this were always so clear and detailed it was almost like he was living it out. The dress would be one that would emphasize her now perfect cleavage... Oh God. Her slender, exposed tan thighs pressed up against his as they French kissed in the middle of that dance floor. No one else was there to burst his bubble. His hand would wander, naturally, and he could still remember how those legs felt from that night in the motel room. How soft her skin was. How her lips tasted as he tangled his fingers in her soft dark hair and-

"Finn..." Santana said, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

Everyone knew he was possibly the most easily aroused male... well, ever really. He even looked slightly more flushed than usual, but she hadn't noticed that.

"Yeah. Red. Got it." He nodded, clearing his throat quietly as he moved his hands to use the napkin in his lap to disguise the only other indicator of what he'd just been thinking about. He was glad they still had desert. It would give him some precious time to think of the mail man and calm down before he had to stand up.

"Right..." she said, drawing the word out suspiciously.

Briefly she wondered what was going on in that quite possibly empty head of his before she finished up her food and pushed the plate forward. The meal had been good, and she offered him a smile of appreciation. One that he'd never seen grace her pretty, lightly glossed lips before.

During the flurry of the waiters taking away their plates and handing them desert menu's, she figured it was the best time to see who had been texting her all night.

Two were from Brittany and one was from Puck. She chose to read that one first. It made her roll her dark eyes in a way which made Finn paranoid. Jesus, could Puck spell anymore like an idiot?

**To: the best phuck ever  
****From: You  
****At: 20:46  
****Message: The way you write actually makes me want to cut you. Actually, I'm having fun. I just totally got him off under the table so I think he is too. ;) Miss me? -S x**

The idiot had changed his name on her cell phone. Again. It was better than some he'd come up with. He enjoyed how when he would text her, and her mother saw it flash up on her screen about her message from 'Dial for sex' or 'Noah Phuckerman', Santana would end up getting in to trouble for it.

So she had been lying in her text, she couldn't help but wonder what his face would be like when he read it – of course it would have been shit amusing to see. If he wasn't going to oblige to some form of sexual intimacy, she was going to convince him she was getting it from somewhere else. Maybe, if she was lucky, he'd get jealous and not be such a fucking prude anymore. What happened to his sex shark image where he just wanted it all the time? Was she not hot anymore or something?

• • •

Death glaring his phone as the vibrations made him jump so hard his heart skipped a beat; he wiped it off on the other side of his pillow. Damn he could drool. He needed to learn to sleep with his mouth closed and have less perverted dreams. As he finally cleaned his phone of his saliva, he looked down at his new message and scoffed in disgust. She'd got him off under the table? That didn't surprise him any bit at all, because she and himself had encountered the very same situation many times at BreadstiX when he'd taken there in hopes to bed her afterwards. _On those days where she was playing hard to get, for the kicks. _He licked his lips subconsciously at the thought. He'd use his pool cleaning money he didn't spend on takeout, and would even buy her desert afterwards. Dude, she was a chick. She was practically tearing his clothes off on the drive home after that kind of stuff.

The thought then sprung to mind and it was like a punch in his perfectly chiselled gut. What if she was doing that stuff with him now? What if she was going to be tearing his clothes off at the end of the night? It wasn't like she ever practised restraint and Finn was just a dude. Santana was hot, and he was pretty sure Rachel had never given out for him. He was probably begging for it!

It irritated him so much, but he wasn't sure why. It more than irritated him, actually. Why did she want to do all that stuff with Finn Hudson? Frankenteen? He was sure if it had been anyone else he would have been okay...

It was his best friend. He just wanted the best for her.

Right.

One thing was for certain though, best friend or fuck buddy – he damn well did miss her. Probably just because he knew she was out with some other guy though. It wasn't like he was gonna tell her that he did and play to what she wanted. He wasn't stupid.

**To: Spamtana  
****From: You  
****At: 20:49  
****Message: eat me.**

• • •

Desert had arrived before Santana received her next text message. The signal was bad, but either way, she didn't want to seem completely rude. She would wait until she was done eating, and talking, to check on whatever loser response Puck had come up with to her fictional story of the going-ons at dinner. Probably didn't even believe what she'd said anyway, not that she'd ever given a reason for him not to. His ego was so big, she was pretty sure he believed that he was the only person she ever wanted to sleep with anymore. Poor baby was so wrong.

"This is really good." Santana groaned, taking extra care to slowly remove any remaining ice cream off the back of her spoon with her tongue.

Finn swallowed hard, convinced she was doing this on purpose because she somehow knew he'd just gotten rid of his little problem. This time it was easier to concentrate though because he could just look the other way instead of a fantasy taking over his mind.

"I know right. Chocolate is the best." He nodded in agreement, staring down at it. Begging for some kind of distraction so he didn't have to watch her, but didn't look like an asshole.

"Oh totally." She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows as if she'd be offended anyone would ever think otherwise. This chocolate ice cream though, was particularly delicious. "I like chocolate and banana together too."

"Me too!" Finn replied, a little taken aback. Mostly because it was the first thing he'd genuinely agreed with her on all night. He may have sounded a little too enthusiastic about it though... Shit.

Santana laughed a little, mostly at how excited he seemed about it.

"Cool." She nodded, a grin still left over from her uncharacteristically friendly chuckle, finishing the last of her ice cream before sucking on the end of her thumb.

"Yeah." He grinned goofily, "Maybe we could go get some after the dance or something?"

Finn followed shortly after and he hailed the waiter over for the bill.

"What, instead of an after party? I don't think so." She smirked, shaking her head. "Don't you want to go to Mike's? You know his house is like... super big. Everyone is going. It's going to be crazy because his parents are away for the weekend. You got invited right?"

"Yeah. Sure, totally. It's gonna be awesome." He nodded, forcing his grin to stay glued to his face so she didn't realize that he still felt like she'd just shot him down on his best effort at asking her out again.

Finn watched as her head ducked down once more, and he realized that she was obviously texting someone because he could see her smirking before mouthing something he couldn't quite make out. Damn it, he needed to try harder at making conversation with her. Was he boring her? Wait, was she texting someone about him? Shit. If he hadn't have been there when she'd agreed to going out with him, he might have thought that she was only doing this as some kind of joke. Did she realize that he'd kind of wanted this to be a date and not just some casual thing to talk about the dance? He frowned and assumed not.

Finn needed her to like him, to get in to it; otherwise Rachel wasn't going to buy this, get all jealous and decide that she really did want to be with him after all. It wasn't like Santana would get hurt or anything. She had like a heart of glass or stone or whatever something hard and unbreakable was. Wait no, crap. Glass was breakable. He'd go with stone, yeah. Stone. And technically, y'know, he wasn't using her because she was gonna be getting something out of it to. A date to the dance that wasn't a loser and, like, free dinner and stuff. And ice cream. Yeah. So it was okay, he'd convinced himself that much.

He looked at the bill and winced. God, was _Rachel_ even worth this?

Santana's eyes were glued to her phone as she quickly thumbed out her reply to her blonde best friend's earlier texts before moving on to Puck's. As she suspected, it was pointless. Actually, she wondered for a moment whether she even needed to reply to that at all.

**To: the best phuck ever  
****From: You  
****At: 21:14  
****Message: You wish, Phuckerman. ;) -S x**

"Ready to go?" Finn asked, his cheeks pink like he'd been slapped in the face. Actually, the bill was probably like a metaphorical slap in the face, but she hadn't and wouldn't stop to ask how much it had all come to. She'd ordered three drinks on purpose, just to test her boundaries.

"Mmhmm." Santana nodded, picking up her bag and sliding out of her chair.

• • •

By the time Santana's next text message had been received, Puck was so deep in thought about how much he wanted to break Finn's face for just thinking about what they could be doing, he missed it buzzing.

Lying to himself anymore seemed utterly pointless. Noah Puckerman was completely and undeniably jealous. It wasn't because he wanted to be with Santana – because it _definitely_ wasn't like she was the only girl he'd ever had eyes for. And she _still_ wasn't. But he wanted to be the only guy that she wanted to do all that stuff with. Was that really so wrong? They'd been precious little more than sex buddies since they figured out not only was it convenient, but super good for the reputation and damn it, he wanted that back!

He was going to find a way to have both his best friend, and have her sex. Surely that could work somehow?

There was no way he was going to be a couple with her again, though. It meant that he couldn't go off and sleep with other Cheerios and there was no way he was undergoing the embarrassment of telling the guys his girlfriend broke up with him because of his credit score. That was definitely one he should have kept to himself. Stupid.

"Fuck." He groaned, laying his arm across his face.

Wait.

What if he could make her feel the same way that he was feeling right now? Completely jealous? After the escapade in Glee club where she almost clawed Mercedes' eyes out for dating him, it was obvious she felt possessive over him on some level. So he just had to tap in to that again! Shit, he was good. But who would piss her off more than Mercedes had?

Sitting up straight, he pulled out his cell phone.

**To: Spamtana  
****From: You  
****At: 21:36  
****Message: jst dnt make out wiv him.**

Telling her to do something she probably already had wasn't actually his main objective right now though. He was just hoping maybe that made her feel guilty. What he'd really gotten his cell phone out for was to send a text message to someone he knew got right up his little Latina friend's nose.

_Rachel Berry. _

Not only was she the perfect person to piss Santana off, but Puck was sure she was so desperate for some male attentions she'd practically throw herself at him if he insinuated he was somewhat interested in being more than friends. Especially since breaking up with Finn, no doubt she'd like a little shot at getting back at him too. This was perfect!

"Damn Puckerman, you've got some badass plans." He smirked proudly to himself, quickly texting Rachel that he wanted to meet up with her the next day, just to hang out. Maybe take her to a movie. The thought kind of made him want to hurl himself off a bridge, but if this was going to make his girl realize that she wanted him again, then it was so worth it.

• • •

"I hate to admit this..." Santana started coldly, before rolling her eyes as her expression melted away into something more friendly, "But I had fun tonight."

Finn walked her up the frosty, winding path towards her lit up house, grinning goofily at her comment.

"Yeah, me too." He nodded, stopping at her front door.

"Thanks." She nodded simply, not stating for what in particular. She meant the meal, but it could have been taken for the ride home or him walking her up to her front door too. That was entirely up to him. "You realize this wasn't a date though. Right?"

Santana made a point of reiterating this little fact so he didn't get the wrong idea.

Finn just shrugged and laughed, "Yeah I know."

"I'll see you in school on Monday then."

"Totally."

"Night, Finn."

Lifting a hand to wiggle her fingers in her adorable little signature wave, she was more than a little surprised when it was taken by his much larger one and used to pull her rigid body against him. Before she knew it, or could ask what the hell he was doing, the freakishly tall jock had pressed his lips to hers without warning. More so to her surprise? She realized that she was actually enjoying it.

This was such a stupid chick flick moment. She almost wanted to punch him just to stop herself from looking back on this moment in disgust at herself for falling for such a stunt. But she didn't, and she kissed him back for a small while longer, her tongue constantly fighting for dominance over his. Oh yes, she was like that even when she kissed. Okay, so it was a little more than a goodnight kiss. His fingers had somehow found their way to becoming threaded into her hair and her hand was now nestled cosily in the crook of his neck.

Clearly, he'd made some improvements since they'd last done this because as he pulled away, unlike the night in that motel room, she wanted him back again.

"Night, Santana." He replied quietly, licking his lips slightly as he let his hand drop from her hair, placing one last soft peck on her still pouted lips.

All about composure, Santana smirked it off like it was completely normal for her. How she said goodbye to everyone.

Close. But she didn't tongue her relatives, she wasn't a sicko.

"Still wasn't a date." She told him, cocking a perfectly groomed eyebrow as she turned on her heels and let herself back into her house, the only sound heard was him laughing softly to himself as he made his way back to his car.

Santana ran her fingers through her hair as she shut the door with her butt, pulling out her cell phone once more. Well that hadn't been anything like what she had expected of the night. There was definitely no way she'd been bored for any part of it like she had thought she might – even when he was acting a bit weird (it was Finn though, what was she supposed to expect?) But she definitely hadn't anticipated the kiss. She was pretty sure she'd made it crystal clear that it wasn't a date and surely wouldn't that give him the message she wasn't interested?

Because she wasn't.

But damn, that kiss was good.

Reading Puck's text she winced a little. Oops, well it was a bit late for that now.

Half of her wanted to tell him that she had. It was weirdly exciting and there was a grin plastered on her face unlike any other she'd seen in a while.

**To: the best phuck ever  
****From: You  
****At: 21:52  
****Message: I won't. -S x**


	4. an

**a/n: **_okay, so this is just a small authors note guys. Kind of an apology.  
I haven't updated this story in a while and I realize that but right now my world is kind of in a spin. A good spin. I've moved in with my best friend and I'm still getting adjusted to the new place and all that jazz so admittedly this story has not been my main priority._

_I don't want you to think that this story is going to be abandoned because it's not, I'm enjoying writing it and I hope you're enjoying reading it just the same. So that's pretty much what this is all about. Don't think you're not going to get anymore and stop checking whether I updated._

_I'm going to start a new chapter tonight. I haven't really written anything since the last chapter of this particular story though, so the next chapter could be a little rough around the edges while I get back in to the swing of what I was doing, but I have a few little surprises in store so I hope you stick around anyway._

_I apologize __**again **__for all those who alerted this story and thought this was a new chapter.. Just a boring message from me and I hope that's okay. _

_Thanks for all the reviews, they mean a lot to me and really do keep me motivated especially '_**xoxoemily**_'. I'm already a fan of yours, I'm not going to lie, and the fact you seem to like my story and offer me constructive criticism is all I could ask for so it's very much appreciated._

_So yes, off to work I go. I won't be too long, promise._

_Much love,  
_**Kate. **


	5. Chapter 4

**a/n: **_i am so, so sorry at how long this has taken. i have no excuses, i guess writing has just taken a back seat and i forgot all about this story. but never fear, i even have half of the next chapter ready too so i promise not to leave you hanging again. so yeah, it's been a while and i don't know if it'll take me some time to get back in to the swing of things but here's a little bit of drama to wet your appetite so we can move on to something a little more pucktana-ish in the next chapter. enjoy!_

**CHAPTER OO4.  
**_- everybody loves santana._

"You know, I'm pretty sure you told me you weren't going to make out with Finn."

Noah Puckerman's accusatory voice rang out through the student bare corridors of McKinley High, accompanied with a swift arm movement slamming shut her locker door. The seemingly aggressive gesture took Santana slightly by surprise and the loud clang of the metal buzzed through her ears enough to draw a look of distaste from the Cheerio.

_What the Hell was his problem?_

The morning had been going slowly. Dragging on even more so than usual and she could barely take it anymore. Dark and pleading eyes made short work of convincing her Math teacher she felt ill enough to be sent to the nurse's office and without his protest, she left a short while before class was due to finish. She had planned on spending the remainder of Math class and the next lesson curled up on the uncomfortable bed nestled away in the nurse's office, until she could pluck up the will power to actually pay attention to anything a teacher could throw at her. Or at least feign paying attention, anyway. It was Chemistry after the lunch break and she liked Chemistry, but she was unsure whether she liked it enough to bother staying in school when she could just get herself sent home early. She always had been a good actress, it wouldn't be difficult with a few carefully chosen words and puppy dog eyes fired at the under qualified, poor excuse for a school nurse. But so far she had only made it to her locker and now Puck was setting her plans out of order. She should have realized he would be out and about somewhere. No one could remember the last time Puck had attended a math lesson.

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, she tried to plan out in her head how she was going to tackle this issue. Firstly, she turned to face him, head on with an innocent smile which only agitated him further.

"You know, I'm pretty sure that tone in your voice is a little something called jealousy." With her words, a smirk tugged at the corner of her perfectly shaped, lightly glossed lips. A smirk that was already mocking him more than any words she could speak. Santana had a way at conveying everything she was thinking through facial expressions in such a way he wondered whether she actually needed to talk to people. The icy glares she could shoot would break up conversations and send fellow, younger Cheerio's scurrying out of fear she would claw their eyes out with one single wrong move. And there was something about her presence that demanded respect and people rarely argued with it. But when she would smile, her genuine, toothy grin that was a rare but beautiful occurrence, he knew it was something special. It was something special and contagious, like everyone else would spontaneously mirror the girl's happiness. But that smile? Well that wasn't what was happening right now.

"I'm not jealous." He scoffed and the words sounded bitterly honest. It didn't sting because Santana had convinced herself for years that he couldn't say a bad word that would sink deep enough to graze at her feelings. Compliments though? Well she'd take those straight to heart. She was good like that.

"Then why do you care so much?"

"I don't care. You just told me you weren't gonna make out with him and then you did."

Santana, as always, struggled to understand the towering figure before her. Okay, so he wasn't jealous and she wasn't sure whether or not she was disappointed at the realization because deep down, every girl wanted a guy to be jealous over her once in a while. And when that guy was Noah Puckerman, it was a total bonus. But it didn't explain what exactly was provoking him to be so stressed over this minor, onetime thing that was kissing Finn Hudson? Was it simply the fact that she'd told him she wasn't going to kiss him and then she had? Jesus Christ, what was he, five? God, this is why she'd given up trying to understand guys all together.

"I make out with everyone, Puckerman."

Reaching her hand back out she tugged at her locker but his hand was still rested against the metal door disallowing her from getting to her things inside. What did he want her to say?

"Come to the dance with me." He said sternly, seemingly ignoring her previous statement which they both knew to be true. It sounded much more like a demand than a question and she laughed coldly in response.

"No. I'd rather go with Hudson."

Truth be told, she wasn't sure why she was turning him down but the stubbornness had spilled from her lips before she could give it much thought. This was the proposition she had been expecting in the first place and only now, after she'd finally secured a date and they'd figured out how to pile Rachel and Finn off on each other, was he asking. Why was he such an awkward pain in the ass when he knew she would just hold her ground as always? Why couldn't he have just bucked up his ideas and asked her when she was dying to say yes to him?

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to go with you. You're being an asshole."

Possibly the worst justification she'd ever come up with in her life. The fact was: he was an asshole in day to day life and everyone knew it. It wasn't exactly big news. All she knew was that was a word he didn't like and making him angry was all she wanted right now because she wasn't going to be his second choice and she didn't like his tone.

"No, you're just being a bitch!" He could feel the anger throbbing inside of him and he wasn't sure why or what was grinding on his nerves this badly. More than likely the feeling of rejection, something that he never dealt well with, only worsened by the fact it was from his best friend. Especially when he was being rejected for Finn, again. No matter how much of a completely different situation this was, it would always twist his mind in to thoughts of Quinn and how she'd turned him down for the freakishly tall Quarterback. That was what was making him angry. Shit, he was more badass and awesome than Finnocence, right? The chicks wanted him more? "Fuck, we both know you're dying to go with me so why don't you just fucking admit it? You want me, Lopez and everyone in this damn school knows it!" His words were bellowing at her now and it was enough to cause disruption in the classrooms closest to the position.

This had gotten out of hand real fast and she hesitated only to gauge his anger. How loud his voice had grown was a pretty good indicator that he was pretty pissed and it brought her a little satisfaction that her, turning him down, could do this. She knew how short his fuse was yet she didn't want to calm him down. _She_ didn't want to calm down, either. It wasn't something she would admit often, but when he shouted, it scared her a little. But not only would she not admit it, but she wouldn't show it either. She immediately stood up straight and got her game face on, her eyebrows raised, a look of disgust in place.

"You wish I wanted you!"

"Yeah, right."

"Come on, look at you. I can see it in your eyes. You're desperate for everyone to want you. You're a fucking child."

"No." He laughed humourlessly, a sharp shake of his head and his hands curled into a fist against her locker door, banging against it in anger enough to cause a slight pain in his knuckles. "You had to stoop as low as Hudson. And he only wants to go with you because Berry turned him down. You think you're the shit, running around doing what you want, who you want. But guess what, nobody likes you, Santana. You're lucky you've got me."

It was clear now that the issues at hand were nothing to do with what had happened with Finn because that topic had been brushed aside as quickly as this argument began. Something deeper was fuelling this and she had no idea why he had so much built up anger towards her in his system when just days before they were curled up in her bed together without a care in the world. Now all she wanted to do was punch him in the face for verbally confirming what they both knew to be a fact. Nobody liked her, but she had always convinced herself she was okay with that and that it worked for her – because it did. It wasn't like she pitied herself and cried herself to sleep at her loneliness because the truth was, she couldn't care less about being friends with a bunch of Lima Losers who someday she would abandon along with the shit hole of a town without looking back. But hearing him say it aloud, with people now peering around the classroom doors to look in on the argument, was a little humiliating. That he and Brittany were truly the only real friends she had and look at them. They were screaming out their lungs at each other about something completely and utterly pathetic. A random outburst of frustration towards each other. You want me. No I don't. What the fuck was wrong with them? Blinded by anger, they both neglected to see past insult after insult being tossed their way, trying their best to conjure up something a little more hurtful than before. Something that would dig a little deeper. Surprisingly, none of the teachers had even bothered to step in or even emerged from their classrooms for that matter, despite having lost all their students who preferred to join the fight's audience. Fights weren't exactly an uncommon occurrence, it wouldn't have surprised them if they were all waiting for each other to step up and take a stand.

"Please. I don't need you. I put up with you to help out your ego when you can't get laid." She shot back, her voice shaking slightly in a way which she couldn't even disguise. "To pick up the pieces every time your baby-mamma rejects your Lima loser ass because guess what, Puckerman? You're worthless."

As soon as she shouted it, she regretted it. Meshing together the fact Quinn still didn't want him, calling him a Lima loser and worthless was heartless combination and she knew it. And now she could see it in his eyes, a dangerous glint which informed her she'd crossed the line and she backed away slightly. The difference with Puck was he didn't show himself to be upset, it always manifested itself as more anger because even after all of these years he still refused to let people see him hurting. Before she could turn away and take it as a victory, his hands had gripped her shoulders and forcefully thrust her backwards into the locker.

The gesture took most people around by surprise and none more so than Santana.

All she could hear was his laboured breathing against her ear and what sounded to be one of the senior jocks shouting at him angrily to back off of her. Puck never listened and now was no different. There were no real thoughts running through her head besides the fact she was, for the first time in her life, scared that he was going to hurt her. It was utterly consuming when he'd always been the only one who could make her feel safe. The only way she could think to react to it would be to grab his arms, screeching curses as she tried to wrestle him away from her and then, in a flash, their bodies collided painfully against her locker once more. He was trying to regain dominance over the situation by forcing her backwards once more and she let out cry as the lock of the door dug painfully just below her shoulder blade. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. Her ears were throbbing and she could feel every inch of her skin burning with adrenaline as she lashed out, trying to inflict any kind of pain she could. Sinking her nails in to the bare skin of his forceful arms. It felt like forever, trying to hold him away from her and not once did he raise a fist before he was pulled away from her by Schuester and the same jock who had been shouting at him beforehand.

People scurried back in to their classrooms upon orders from Mr. Schuester, (and the other collection of teachers present as soon as they realized the seriousness of the matter) who jabbed a finger in the direction of the principal's office with a look of anger she'd never seen on his defined features.

"Santana are you okay?" He breathed out, looking as exhausted as he'd been physically involved in the fight himself.

Santana launched forward, both palms flat against Puck's chest as she used every bit of power she could muster with her tiny frame to shove him backwards. It was a cheap shot and he'd seemingly attempted to calm down, but she didn't care. The surprised look on his face was satisfaction enough because now they were even. Not only had she totally won that thing, but he'd made himself look like a complete and utter psycho woman beater.

"Hey, Santana! Enough!"

The Spanish teacher's words echoed out through the corridor. Then someone unknown stepped up beside her, arm wrapping around her shoulder and carting her off in an opposite direction as Schue desperately tried to create more distance between the inexplicably angry pair of students by leading a deadly silent Puck away and out of sight.

The arm around her belonged to Finn and she'd never wanted to see his face less as they made their way down the corridor it what seemed like no particular direction.

Wrinkling up her nose with a look of disgust, the Latina shrugged his arm off of her and took a step away from him, carrying on her speedy stride towards her escape.

"Don't touch me." She spat.

There was no reason for her to be angry at Finn right now, but she couldn't best control herself when she was like this. When all she wanted to do was show someone how angry she was.

"Hey come on, it's okay..." He murmured, trying to sound soothing as his arm went to take its place around her once more. That wasn't what she needed right now and she wasn't afraid to show him that. What she needed was space before she beat the shit out of him and made today worth remembering.

"Finn, just leave me the fuck alone."

God she needed to get out of this place. Finn figured that any attempt to calm her down was a lost cause and stopped in his tracks silently, eyes following the tiny frame which held so much rage. He sighed to himself and scratched at the back of his neck, finding himself feeling a little useless. It was a well known fact that when she was angry, very little could calm her down besides some words from Puck and maybe a hug from her blonde best friend. When Puckerman turned out to be the problem, it was difficult to try and figure out what would fix things. No one else followed and it didn't surprise or disappoint her. This wasn't a stunt for attention. What she needed was the quiet and solitary walk back to her home, waiting for his apologetic phone call to come.


	6. Chapter 5

**a/n:** _at least this update didn't take half a year! so, a little bit of finntana going on at the end of this chapter because i love them together and i'd like to think they have some real potential. but don't worry all of you people reading for pucktana - it's coming up in the next chapter! i've got it all planned in my head. but, like i already explained this isn't supposed to be a story just about them, it's about shipping santana with everyone.  
so yes. i don't really have a lot to say except expect another update soon and it's going to be some super-cute pucktana makin' up. promise. enjoy!_

**CHAPTER OO5.  
**_- everybody loves santana. _

The air lashed at her few patches of exposed skin, icy cold and sharp like it was cutting her and she wondered for a moment if she remembered a winter as cold as this. The parking lot of the school was crammed with extra and unfamiliar cars, driven by those who refused to walk and weather the wintery winds settling upon the town - but no one was stood outside. Not even the jocks dared to crowd around the trash cans, waiting for some unsuspecting, nerdy freshman to arrive ready for harassment. As she made her way towards the entrance to William McKinley High, she thought to herself about how she was going to tackle the issue that was bumping in to Noah Puckerman. Truth be told, she didn't want to see him because although now, she would have more self control than she had done during the argument the previous day, she still felt an incredible surge of anger towards him that didn't seemed to have fade as she slept on it. If anything, the thoughts swirling around in her head as she tried to drift off to sleep of what she could have done to piss him off just a little bit more made her even more frustrated with herself. It was the kind of anger that might just spark up another argument and shoot her in to bitch mode as fast as the whole thing had happened before. It wasn't like she wanted to fight with him, he was and always would be her best friend regardless of words said, but there was no way in Hell she was going to sit back and take all those insults he was hurling at her without some kind of fight back. That just wasn't how she did it and he knew it. Of course there was also the whole issue of how everyone else was going to react. For a generally uninteresting town and even more uninteresting school, such an argument would fuel gossip and lunch room chatter for days to come and she wasn't sure she was ready to defend herself to the entire student population just yet. Questions and comments were just going to make her feel worse than she already did and she already wanted to claw someone's eyes out.

Slipping into the building after a couple of seniors heading in before her, she looked around and pressed her lightly glossed and perfectly pouted lips together. She held a ring-bound folder to her chest and was drowning in a jacket she only pulled out of the closet for days exactly like this one. It wasn't very flattering but she could pull almost anything off and it was better than arriving to school as an ice cube.

Out of the corner of her eye she could feel people turning to glance over at her and it was always followed by a few hushed whispers but she was too tired. Too tired to go Lima Heights on anyone's ass right now. Coming in to sight after a few brief moments was her locker and thankfully nobody was stood around. As she arrived before it she saw what appeared to be a dent in the metal – one she supposed was caused either by her back being forced against it or Puckerman's hand laying into it instead of her. It wasn't a lie to say she was glad it took the brunt of his force instead of herself. Tugging it open, she slipped the folder inside and the coat from her shoulders, ready to start a new day. Still no Puck in sight.

"Santana can I have a word?"

The voice belonged to the Lesbian-haired, incessantly annoying Spanish teacher and Glee Club mentor, Will Schuester. Santana wanted to bitch slap him at the best of times and if he was about to set her down at lecture her about how she'd reacted yesterday to Puck's ambush, she might just beat him to death with one of his lame Spanish text books. Schuester had a way of involving himself in everyone's problems and she briefly wondered whether or not it was because he was under the impression he actually helped. Just because he managed to pull some losers out of the dump in Glee, didn't mean he was some kind of miracle worker. Not wanting to cause a scene however, Santana shut her locker door and turned on her heels to shoot him a questioning look.

"Now, please. Santana." He repeated. His words weren't stern or unkind, more concerned and that annoyed her even more. She was Santana Lopez and she didn't need people to be concerned about her because she could take care of herself, thank you very much.

"I've got places to be. Can't we do this some other time?"

Mr. Schuester didn't reply and merely stood aside in a polite kind of gesture which suggested she was to enter the room before him. Now. There was no point starting a scene in the middle of the corridor when she could be in and out of there in five minutes with a few cute words and so she obliged and headed inside of his office. There, sat looking like a scorned puppy, as per usual, was one Finn Hudson and she immediately rolled her eyes due to a mixture of distaste and impatience. For God's sake, this was all she needed. What was he doing here? Was this going to be some double interrogation, good jock, bad teacher? All of her had assumed that this meeting was going to be about what went down with Puck and Finn had absolutely nothing to do with it. Nonetheless, the Latina chose to casually ignore his presence and took her seat in one of the plastic chairs nestled next to the one the freakishly tall jock inhabited. They waited for Schue to head around to sit at his side of the desk.

"So you two are both here because of the incident in the hallway yesterday, and you know that." Schue began, resting his elbows on the desk top, staring at each of them in turn. "I think things need to be discussed."

It still didn't answer the question burning in the back of her mind of what the Hell Finn had to do with the situation. She turned her head and hoped to catch his gaze, to send him a questioning look but instead her eyes were met with what looked like a hefty bruise forming around his left eye and cheekbone. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable and shifted in her seat. Why did he look like someone had taken a good few swings at his pretty-boy face? Nothing went down with him while she was in school. Still, he didn't speak up and neither did she as she turned her attention back to the teacher who looked like he was about to talk for hours. Practically brimming with verbal lessons and unhelpful words. Maybe the Bush-baby-eyed, crappy excuse for a guidance counselor would burst in at any moment and fix everything with a couple of her magic pamphlets, intolerably cheerful smile and perfume that reminded Santana of a nursing home. And maybe Santana would just kill herself.

"Puck has been suspended from school until further notice."

"What, why?" Santana frowned, the words tumbling from her lips before she could even think about what she was saying. Of course she was mad at him, but suspending him when he hadn't even laid a hand on her seemed a little extreme considering the circumstances. It was okay for her to be mad at him, but not everyone else too and strangely, regardless of the confrontation between them, she found herself defending her best friend almost habitually.

"Are you serious?" Finn spat, finally turning his attention to her with an expression that cried out he was just as angry as anyone – only he was better at hiding it up until then. "Because he's crazy?"

Finn never spoke up. It caught her by surprise although she did well not to show it.

"Don't get shitty with me, Finnocence!" Santana snapped back, holding her finger up as if to silence him, a glare which on any other occasion would intimidate him into silence. But apparently, not today.

"Grow up, Santana."

"Enough, both of you!" Schuester interjected, an annoyed expression now wrinkling up his brow.

Finn slumped back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest in a very childish manner, shaking his head but falling silent. Santana glared at him for a little while longer, her heart thumping. Never before had he stood up to her and it was not okay. She crossed one tan and slender leg over the other and folded her own arms, almost mirroring Finn's actions entirely.

"Santana, his behavior wasn't acceptable."

"People fight all the time and don't get suspended! Just some shitty detention. He didn't even lay a hand on me. He was just pissed off, so what?"

"That might be so, but he did shove you in to a locker and we can't have students exhibiting that kind of violence. And he did hit Finn, after you left."

Well that explained the bruise but it didn't make her feel any better about it.

"Why would he hit Finn?" She raised an eyebrow, verbalizing the question that had repeated in her head about fifty times already.

"Because I stuck up for you." The jock mumbled miserably as if he felt now that it hadn't been worth it. His head didn't even turn to look at her while he was talking; instead he focused on the cabinet on the far side of Mr. Schue's room as if it was some kind of magical doorway he could escape through and out of this incredibly awkward conversation.

First thing was first, Santana hadn't asked for anyone to stick up for her because she didn't need anyone to stick up for her. As far as she was concerned, he'd brought this entirely on himself for God only knows what reason. Everyone knew that Puck wasn't the kind of guy you dared mess with when he was angry, no matter how noble your intentions were because neither Puck nor Santana saw it as anything more than a ridiculous gesture. The duo always had problems and they always overcame them and only this time did Finn decide to get involved? It was on his head. But right now, all Santana could see was that he was the reason her best friend was suspended from school and that only worsened her fluctuating mood. Admittedly, it didn't wipe the slate clean and she was still mad at Puck, but that didn't make her any less mad at Finn for joining in the fight as if she couldn't handle things herself. But hey, who didn't love a hero – it was probably yet another layer to his ridiculously obvious plan that was winning back Rachel Berry. So he could go home and she would coo over him and bake him sugar cookies and nurse him as if he was dying. Ugh, the thought was repulsive. _Gag me with a fucking spoon_.

"I didn't ask you to stick up for me. I didn't _need _you to stick up for me. I'm capable of looking after myself." She replied ungratefully, wrinkling up her nose as if the whole idea was utterly pathetic. As if he, himself, was utterly pathetic. It was something he'd grown accustomed to.

Finn scoffed and shook his head and Schue sighed, holding up his arms.

"Guys, let's keep this civilized. I don't want any more fights. I just thought I'd inform you two before you heard it from the rumor mill. Let's try and keep it down low and let this blow over as quickly as possible, okay?"

They both shrugged as if uninterested in either agreeing or disagreeing and Finn had picked out a new place to fix his stare to. Santana ran her tongue along her top lip and questioned why this whole stupid talk was taking place. What had it solved? Them sitting together? What, she'd learned he'd played the Knight in Shining Armor, clearly not having the affect he'd thought and it'd just been an awkward mess. He was an awkward mess. Mm, constructive. Couldn't he have pulled them aside separately and told them what was going on? She tilted her head to the side and wondered for a moment whether all that product in his hair was in any way flammable.

"I'm going to give you guys some privacy. Talk it out so you don't go making a scene in the hallway, okay?" Schuester raised his eyebrows and it didn't sound very much like a suggestion. More of a 'do this now' kind of deal and Santana let out a dramatized, audible sigh.

"I don't have anything to say to him. He got himself in to this mess. I didn't have anything to do with it."

The Spanish teacher shook his head, unimpressed with the girl's attitude and left without saying another word.

Santana sat frustrated, itching to leave and get away from Finn. But there was no awkward silence like she expected and Finn spoke up almost immediately as Schuester shut the door behind him quietly.

"Yeah well I have stuff to say to you." He said, finally tearing his eyes away from whatever was so damn interesting and turning in his seat to face her. "You might not have needed anyone to stick up for you, but I did it anyway, Santana. You could at least be a little grateful because I didn't see any of those other guys running over to put him in his place for pushing you. Look, he shouldn't have treated you like that and that was all I said. I didn't go in with heroic intentions or whatever, but he flipped and he hit me. I don't want your thanks. But you don't have to sit there and act like you're the only person that matters in this thing."

It dawned on her that she and Puck's argument had originally stemmed from the whole discussion about her kissing Finn, a decision that she now deeply regretted. Maybe Puck was a little jealous after all and that pent up anger wasn't just towards her. Finn was right because this did involve him and the words hit her like a shovel even if he hadn't had the same realization that she had. It didn't change things though because she still had no idea how she was supposed to react to him. No one had ever stuck up for her before because everyone knew she could do it herself and were afraid of the repercussions that would come with taking away her pride and independence. No one had ever gone behind her back when she'd been wronged and tried to fix things because there were less than a handful of people who cared about her to do something like that and Finn wasn't pinned as one of them. A thank you seemed lamer than no acknowledgment at all and she found herself silent and speechless for the first time in a long time.

"I don't know how you put up with him."

"You used to be his best friend once, too." Santana quickly retorted, her eyebrows pulling together in an offended frown, feeling the same need to defend Puck rising to the surface. Something stirring within her that made her feel guilty that this was all turning everyone around on Puck. All for a little argument about a dinner date that meant nothing to her? It wasn't worth it, was it?

Finn shook his head.

"No, not like you two. You'd lay your ass on the line for him and he throws you in to a locker? Calls you a whore? Treats you like shit? There's something not right there, Santana and you can't even see it."

As if he felt because he'd managed to get out what he had to say, the conversation was over, he got to his feet and pulled his bag up over his shoulder.

"Hey, we're not finished." She frowned and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to stop him from walking towards the door. "You think he treats me like shit, yet you don't say or do anything before now? What's changed to make you take action, huh? Don't act like you give a damn about how I feel Finn, because you never have."

"See, you're wrong. Don't try and tell me how or what I feel." He didn't take any action to tug his arm from her grip and turned his head to face her.

"Oh what, so you care about me now? What a fucking honor." She scoffed and rolled her eyes, shooting him a look something cold and amused and signature of the girl. The idea made her feel a little uneasy. She'd asked the question but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer. It wasn't necessarily meant as a caring in anymore than a friendship sense, not romantically, but she didn't deserve it from him on any level. All of their high school life she'd tormented and teased and tortured him to within an inch of his sanity and she wasn't sure she could live with the guilt of knowing that even after all of that he would go out on a limb and get himself punched in the face defending her honor or whatever.

"Maybe, I thought I did." He shrugged his broad shoulders, his words a kind of emotionless that she'd rarely heard in her life and never from him. "But I always was stupid. Right now? I couldn't care less about you, Santana. And I mean that."

"Finn… Wait." Her voice was quieter this time but it made no difference now. She attempted to take his arm but he made quick work of getting out of reach and away from her hands.

With that he left and he found himself realizing that he did in fact care about her and she could see it somewhere in his eyes as he slammed the door behind him. It was an undefined feeling that couldn't be explained when everything was telling him that she wasn't worth feeling anything towards. But he knew, that somewhere underneath her entire hard bitch exterior that a small portion of her needed someone to care about her and he regretted leaving so childishly. No matter how much he could try and deny it to himself he cared and he didn't know what to do about it now.

Santana however didn't speak another word. Not to him as he left - refusing to acknowledge the fact she'd just thrown away yet another person who had cared about her on some level at all. Not to anyone for the rest of the school day. Because more depressing than forcing another person to give up caring, was finding herself wanting him to be the one who still thought she mattered.


End file.
