"You are a fucking moron."

"Excuse me?"

"Allow me to interject for a moment. I believe what Quinn is trying to say is that perhaps in your attempt to assert your dominance with male-like bravado and terrible grammar, you actually succeeded in further distancing yourself from Brittany."

"Yes. Exactly. A fucking moron."

Rachel sighed loudly and put her hand to her head in an attempt to quell the headache that she knew would be coming. It happened often, almost every single time that Quinn and Santana were in the same room together.

"Alright, I understand what preggo here was trying to say, but frankly, I'm just not that fluent in gnomish. And fuck you very much."

Quinn's head shot up immediately at this statement, her normally glowing green eyes now downcast into narrowed slits. "Don't you ever talk to my girlfriend that way, you understand?"

Santana's mouth opened for a second before she started to laugh obnoxiously. "Oh my bad blondie. I wasn't aware that people were allowed to date lawn ornaments now. What a crazy world we live in."

"Alright that's enough, get the hell out of our house!"

Before Santana had made it to the door, Rachel had grabbed her arm (not exactly one of her best ideas), and led her back to the couch she was sitting on prior to the explosive argument.

"Santana came to us for help. I understand that at this moment she is under a great deal of stress, and perhaps acted out against me, using anger filled words as weapons. Well, no harm done, friend. Now please. Let us assist you with the current crisis at hand."

Quinn smiled lovingly up at Rachel and put her hand on her girlfriend's lower back, rubbing slightly. At that precise moment, she would have jumped Rachel and had her way with her right there on the couch, but something was in the way. The great ball of sunshine known as Santana Lopez was currently in their living room, homeless for the time being. As for why she was homeless? Rachel and Quinn were trying to get the whole story, but Santana being her lovely agreeable self, had yet to disclose all of the details.

"Spit it out, Lopez. What exactly did you do to get yourself thrown out of your own house?"

Santana sighed to herself, pouted slightly, and put her arms over her chest.

"Alright. It's like this. I was laying on the couch watching a movie, relaxing might I add, when Britts comes in from work. It's like this almost every night. Whoever gets home last has to make dinner. Pretty sweet deal 'cause I almost never lose. Anyway. She walks in and before she even says 'hi', she tells me to take out the trash. Now there I was, enjoying my evening, when she comes barging in, already complaining."

Quinn studied the Latina girl, an incredulous look upon her face. "I don't really see how that's complaining, but go on with your pathetic story. This has got to be good."

Santana shot Quinn a look that would freeze the mightiest of all men to stone, and continued on.

"Listen, I know that I screwed up. When she came in I was already in a bad mood. I didn't mean to snap at her. When she asked me why I hadn't moved to take the trash out yet, I said something I probably shouldn't have."

Both Quinn and Rachel moved in closer to Santana to hear the offending words.

Santana glared at both of them before mumbling something incoherently.

Quinn smiled a not so sweet smile before looking down at Santana. "I'm sorry, would you mind speaking up? We couldn't hear you over the sound of your pride shattering."

"I said 'I DOES WHAT I WANTS!"

Quinn and Rachel stared at Santana open mouthed before bursting into fits of laughter.

Santana sunk even lower into their couch, a child-like pout adorning her features. "Yeah, laugh it up. Your children are going to come out as leprechauns."

"So let me get this straight. Brittany came home from a long day at work, prepared herself to make your lazy ass some dinner, asked you to take out the trash numerous times, and you responded with..."I does what I wants?"

"Yerp. That's about the gist of it."

"You are completely unbelievable, you know that? What the hell is your problem? When have you EVER had a problem doing whatever Brittany asks of you?"

Santana jumped up from the couch, a look of distress on her face.

"See, that's just it! I do whatever she wants to do, whenever she wants me to do it. Puck was right when he said I was whipped. I just wanted to stand up for myself. But here I am, with you two. I miss my Britt Britt."

"Santana, please tell me you're joking. You listened to Puck's advice? Why in the world would you ever do something so stupid!"

"Well, one night we had had a few drinks, and we got to talking. He asked me where Brittany kept my balls. Keepin' it real Lima Heights style, I kicked his ass right into next week, but I kept thinking about what he had said. I guess I let it get to me. When I said that to Brittany, she told me to get out, and that I wasn't welcome back until I apologized properly. Now here I am, with you two. Life sucks."

A knock on the door interrupted Santana's rant. Rachel jumped up immediately to answer it, but after she looked through the peep hole, she gasped slightly and hesitated.

"It's...it's Brittany."

Santana sat stock still, mentally trying to prepare herself. What was she going to say to Brittany?

XXX

I know it's kinda lame. I always just imagined Santana doing pretty much anything Brittany wanted her to, and what would happen if she said no. Review and let me know if I should continue. Much love.