Mollie attempts to write Glee Fanfic/Pezberry. This was written a while ago and I haven't read through it, so it's probably full of mistakes but I want to finish it!
“Because, fuck, Santana, I’ve never said it, but you’re good... You're really good,” Rachel said, almost painfully. Santana just gazed over at the brunette and raised an eyebrow, a gentle smirk lazily etched across her face.
“Wow,” she said, a slight amount of spite in her voice, “That sounded strained, Rach. But it was unexpected,” she grinned.
Rachel rolled her eyes, “So is you and me sitting down and talking like adults, Santana. And so is you calling me Rach,” she smirked back and Santana rolled her eyes just as Rachel had done moments before.
Sam and Puck returned moments later, carrying with them two drinks each. Sam settled the red wine down in front of Rachel, who inspected the glass closely, as though looking for a microscopic piece of dirt. Santana rolled her eyes again and slurped at the lager that Puck had put in front of her, making a slight, “ahh” sound as the cool golden liquid trickled down her throat.
“So,” Puck said, after what seemed like an eternity of them drinking in silence. “What’ve you ladies decided?” he raised an eyebrow as he stared between them.
Rachel softly bit down on her lip and waited for Santana to speak. Santana looked around at the other three, all hanging on her decision and her face cracked into a grin. “Get your coat, Puckerman. Looks like we’ve pulled.”
Rachel looked at her for a moment, wondering if she was joking, but when Santana made no signs of changing her mind Rachel squealed and jumped out of her seat, clapping her hands like an excited seal. Santana rolled her eyes and looked at Sam and Puck who were both smiling at her.
“Calm it, Berry. People are staring,” she said, laughing at Rachel who ran over to her and wrapped her arms around her neck.
“You won’t regret this,” she whispered softly into Santana’s ear, before Santana wriggled out of her grip and frowned at her.
“Time for some ground rules,” she said as Rachel sat down again, still grinning from ear to ear, which received her another eye roll from Santana. “Number one; no touching and especially no fucking hugs, okay, Berry?” Rachel looked down at her feet and nods, looking a little disheartened by Santana’s words.
“Number two; no more clapping like a fucking retarded seal,” Rachel cheeks tinged a pinkish colour and she maintained her stare at the floor, staring so hard it looked like she was trying to burn a hole in the ground.
“Number three,” Santana said, with a smirk, “you’re buying me lunch on the way. Now let’s get out of this place.” Rachel looked up from the ground and grinned at Sam, who was draining his glass. He plonked his glass on the table with an “ahh,” and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. Rachel stood up, watching Puck pack his guitar into it’s case and Santana picking up her purse, lyrics and whatever else she had lying on the stage.
By the time Santana and Puck had collected their things, Rachel and Sam were stood at the door, eager to make a move. Santana was the last to leave, she nodded a goodbye to the bartender who’d been so good to her and Puck for so many months now. She took one last look around the place she’d basically called home for almost a year now, and, with a smile, turned her back on it and ran to catch up with the others.