#kat i’m going to find you and smother you in your sleep for putting this on my dash

Hooray, a surprise visit from Australia. I will now sleep with a bottle of vodka next to my bed to have a welcome present.

pezberry, tickets, reluctance.

Rachel takes the envelope cautiously, staring at Santana, and if she’s not making it up in her head - she does that sometimes - Santana’s cheeks are flushed and she looks nervous.

“What…”

“Just open it.” Rachel does as she’s told, but she still wouldn’t put it past Santana to do something ridiculous. She’s not sure how much mischief one can cause with a single envelope, but if anyone could pull it off, Santana could. “They’re concert tickets.”

Rachel stares at the tickets in her hand. “I see that.”

“I know you’re a big fan of this guy, and um. What?”

“You got me concert tickets,” Rachel states slowly. She’s still waiting for something awful to happen here.

They’ve been in New York for three months, and they’ve each been single twice as long, and they’re…not friends, exactly, but not enemies, either. They’ve engaged in conversation in social settings a few times, and Santana stopped by Rachel’s dorm room one afternoon with hot chocolate and her books under her arm, and they ended up studying together for a while.

Blaine said, on the phone, something about Santana having a crush, but Rachel didn’t think…

“Um.”

She looks at Santana, says, “Why?” and all she gets back is a strange facial expression. “Why did you buy me tickets?”

Santana rolls her eyes, and all of a sudden she’s that girl from high school again, annoyed by Rachel’s very existence and tendency to - how dare she? - at least try to understand the world.

“I got you tickets, two of them, because it’d be like, the worst date ever if you had to go alone, so.”

Rachel feels her eyes go wide. “You want to go on a date with me?”

“Well, you can go with someone else, but you have to pay me back.” The humour is just a defense mechanism. She knows that. “Look, do you wanna go, or what?”

Rachel bites the inside of her lip and manages a little smile, which seems to crack Santana’s armor again. Oh. Is that…Maybe Blaine isn’t actually crazy.

“I think I’d like that.”

Santana actually smiles, and… “Cool.”

Rachel doesn’t really realize how much Santana must like her until she notices that she’s been talking about Michael Bublé for 15 minutes, uninterrupted. She can’t be sure that Santana is actually listening, but she’s not being rude, either, and Rachel knows a thing or two about small victories.