"We're protecting Rachel now," Santana announced as she burst into the empty classroom used for Bully Whips meetings. The emergency call to action six minutes before school was set to begin did not make for a happy Dave Karofsky, who slouched against a desk in the corner. At her words, he perked up in confusion.
"Rachel Berry?" asked Dave to clarify. The upper left portion of his lip crawled up in an almost disgusted expression. Any other time Santana would consider mocking him for nearly showing the teeth he typically refused to show. But even his canine dog smile wasn't enough to distract her from her point. Point being: no one was going to mess with Rachel Berry if Santana had a say in it.
"People have been bitching and I don't want anything happening to her so close to losing Mr. Schue," Santana explained. It was only a week after Nationals. The vest-clad, grease-head had ditched them to sing near the old Broadway, and Rachel had quite literally spent the time that would have been that week's Glee Club practice moping about him living her dream.
Dave scoffed. "I really don't think she cares about Schuester, San. You'll need a better excuse. What? Don't want your latest crush to get slushie-d?"
She rolled her eyes at his mocking. Despite being the burliest guy on campus, Dave had a way of being the most adorable little brat. He pestered her like an older brother does his little sister. Though, since she called the shots in every way imaginable, the joking typically worked against him. In this case, she decided to go for an answer that both satisfied his curiosity and mocked him a bit as well.
She said, "I just don't want her getting swept into Hurricane Finn like your long-standing, unrequited crush, Hummelbee."
Dave narrowed his eyes at her. Guess he didn't like the thought of Finn Hudson any more than she did. The last thing she wanted, honestly, was for Rachel to spend yet another summer attached to the moron. If she guarded Rachel and kept her away from Finn at all costs, then Rachel's summer would be free for other people. Other more worthy people. Other more fabulous people. Other - screw it, her summer would be free for nights of fun times with Santana. And who would say no to that?
"I really thought we were done with the Bully Whips stuff," he said.
"We were but…"
"But now it gives you an excuse to mack on the gleek pack. Look, I don't care who you're after, or what it takes, but I want you to know that if she sings at me, I'm personally throwing a slushie in her face and locking her in a closet somewhere," he said.
Santana stifled a grin at the mention of a closet. She knew it wasn't intentional, but it did make the moment a bit more humorous. Seeming to catch it himself, Dave cracked a grin.
She announced, "We're going to step up the protection. She gets full detail."
"As in pat downs and crevice searches?" he asks with raised eyebrows and a real peek at those pearly whites.
"Twenty-four hour coverage. Don't worry, I'll handle the night shift," she told him. He chuckled.
"So, when do we start?" he asked.
The first bell rang in the background. Immediately after, a soft knock reached their ears. Santana rushed to open the door to the abandoned classroom. She glanced over her shoulder in warning to Dave before letting in the subject of conversation herself.
Rachel grinned at the room's occupants.
"Santana, David, I cannot even begin to express my joy at the fact that you believe I deserve the honor of bodyguards. This will be perfect practice for when I am a Broadway legend and Grammy-award-winning, solo recording artist and cannot walk down the street without someone attacking me. I thank you both for the opportunity," said Rachel in greeting.
Both Dave and Santana rolled their eyes, though the latter's was a bit more affectionate.
"Dave's got the first shift. He'll walk you to first, second, and third. I've got the rest of the day," Santana said.
"That's not a very even split," Rachel mentioned. Her eyebrows scrunched as she thought about it. The action didn't help Santana's head clear enough to form a response. Luckily, Dave wasn't distracted by Rachel's little quirks.
He informed her, "I have anger management meetings with Ms. Pillsbury later today, and I need to blow off some steam before hand. I hope you don't mind being left alone with Santana for most of the day."
Rachel's eyes flickered to the Latina briefly. She cleared her throat and smoothed down the edges of her skirt.
"Not at all," Rachel said.
Santana fought down the grin with a sharp, "You better get her to class, Karofsky. Berry's never late for anything."
"That is true," Rachel said, "I nearly have a perfect attendance record and would not like any tardies to blemish that."
Dave stepped forward, ushering her out the door. The three left the room for their intended directions. For just a moment, Rachel looked back towards Santana, who had yet to walk away. The Latina gave a little wave, then turned around to head for her own class.
Walking to class, Santana vowed that the only protection Rachel would ever need was for her heart (and maybe her purity ring).