I'd Excuse Murder | Santana Lopez

16

A/N: Who's here?

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Sneaking into the Fabray house was simple. Judy Fabray trusted her way too much and was leaving for work, allowing Santana to slip right inside where she'd get the entire house alone.

Santana climbed the stairs and double checked Valerie was out on a run with Jax and Brenda and Quinn were nowhere to be seen. Only then could she begin her little disastrous search through Valerie's bedroom.

Everything had to come out of draws. She shifted through the desk and journals around the room. She wasn't looking for anything specific, but something in Santana told her she needed to do this.

She shook out each shoe, unfolded and refolded all the clothes, checked the jewelry box, and under the mattress. Besides finding a few things that were Sam's, Mike's and Puck's in here, Santana didn't see anything out of the ordinary for a teen mother. At least, until she reached the bathroom and found an old blade taped to the top of the cabinet where no one would see it.

It looked well aged. At least for the tape, it must have been there a while. It was reassuring, but Santana still dropped it in her bag and continued searching for another.

By the time Santana made it into the closet, she didn't hear the sound of Sam's truck pulling up in the driveway. She did hear when Valerie made it down the hallway with her boyfriend and dropped Jax off in his nursery for his nap.

"Shit." Santana looked around the room. She bolted toward the window and tugged on the latch, gasping in surprise to see Quinn wasn't kidding about Russel bolting Valerie's window shut with hundreds of nails. "Shit. Shit. Shit!"

The Latina tossed her backpack under the bed and slid as far underneath as possible just in time for Valerie to open her bedroom door. She winced as the door closed, locking behind the redhead.

Santana laid flat on the floor and watched Valerie's feet shuffled across the room with Sam in tow.

Sam picked Valerie up and placed her on the bed, groaning in approval when she tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. He crawled onto the mattress and followed her till she laid down, dipping his face to her neck.

"You're so gorgeous." Sam kneaded Valerie's thigh as she wrapped a leg around him. "Lookin' at you like the sunset, Cherry. So pretty and golden."

"Oh, please use that voice again."

"You like that, Cherry, girl?"

"You're so cute. It's disgusting." Valerie giggled.

She fucking giggled.

Santana laid on her back and stared at the mattress above her wide eyed. She was so damn stupid. Why would she come here? Now she's gotta listen to Sam Evans' ugly noises as he feels Valerie up.

Her eyes fluttered shut when Valerie moaned quietly. She bit her lip and imagined it wasn't Sam up there grinding into the young mother, but her and Valerie laying in bed making out.

She recalled one Friday where Santana and Valerie were both having bad days. They fucked for hours until they accidently fell asleep. It was one of the best screw sessions she's ever had and to wake up like that the next morning—her body tight against Valerie's as the redhead held her close to her, face stuffed in her neck—it was wonderful.

Santana shouldn't have run out of there so fast. She should have made it a thing. She could have turned around and returned the favorite to Valerie for fucking her more times than Santana did her. She was like that. She loved putting Santana on her back and making her beg for more.

"Sammy." Valerie moaned, fingers threaded in his blonde hair. Her hips pushed up into his, feeling his erection struggling not to pierce her through his jeans.

Their lips met again, a little rougher in pace. Sam couldn't help his hips as they worked against Valerie's sweet movements. He palmed her thigh, slipping his hand under her shirt.

"Tell me again." Valerie pleaded, Sam's lips on her throat. "Please."

"You're so beautiful." Sam whispered in her ear. "So fucking sexy, Valerie."

Santana squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear Valerie's approval for his words; his actions. There were no signs they had moved past a hot make out, but it still stabbed Santana in the chest and continued to twist back and forth.

When her eyes opened, a single tear slipped from the corner and fell down the side of her face.

She shouldn't feel like this. This wasn't right. What was happening to her?

When did she become the person to sneak into someone's house and make sure they weren't hurting themself? She never did this for Quinn or Brittany. She never fought ex-boyfriends pervy rituals for them. She never annotated entire books because she noticed they were having trouble seeing the board and reading sheet music. She never wished for someone to kiss her like she wished Valerie would.

Santana covered her mouth as Valerie whimpered Sam's name again. She squeezed her eyes tight and ignored the tight twisting in her stomach as Valerie enjoyed a moment with her sickeningly sweet boyfriend.

Why was Santana the saddest when Valerie was the happiest? Maybe Puck was right. Sam needed to leave Valerie.

He needed to leave Valerie.

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