Gah I got a little bored of my other fic.. if any interesting ideas come to me I might continue it but it was a bit generic. This is really short cuz its just an idea that I thought I'd try out since I'm kinda feeling the darker direction Glee's taking-any future chapters will be longer. Get past the first few paragraphs and it becomes my own work (rather than based off a scene).

Rock Steady

Prologue

Santana sat on the bed in the darkened room, her heart pounding in her chest and sweat clamming up her hands. With every footfall her heart beat that little bit faster until there was the definite beep of a card being swiped and the door admitting him into the room. A sliver of light fell across the floor and she took the second to compose herself.

"Evening Vicky," he said in a deep velvet-soft voice, one he must reserve for encounters such as these. The instant he flipped the light on she turned her head to face him, watching his confident hands unbuttoning his blazer slowly begin to fumble as recognition hit him. Silence fell as Brody's smug features fell into a look of alarm. "Santana, how did you—?"

"—I told you, this is what I do," she got up from the bed, heart rate calming now that everything was going to plan.

"You can't tell Rachel, please," his previously seductive voice now an unattractive beg. "I'm not proud of this, I promise."

"Save it, I think there's someone more important you should convince tonight," she smiled at him but it didn't meet her eyes, where the glint of triumph tormented him. She looked over his shoulder, mentally counting the three seconds she'd arranged with Finn.

At five seconds, she could feel Brody's eyes boring into her, no longer anxious. "He's not coming, Santana."

She looked at him again, a leering smile creeping onto his lips. "What?"

"You think I didn't know what you were up to? One of my friends is taking care of Finn right this moment," his dark, alluring making her insides itch and scream with irritation. "But I decided to have you myself."

She took a second to think through her options before reaching behind herself and grabbing hold of a vase of flowers and throwing it at Brody's head. In the last second, he lurched forwards and out of the way, grabbing hold of Santana's jacket and knocking her to the floor. Her head hit the ground and a splitting feeling erupted in her skull. Beneath him she struggled and feebly pounded her fists against him.

"I love her!" Brody shouted and brought his clenched fist down against her face. She lifted her leg and knew, from his deep grunt, that her knee had found its purchase in his crotch. He spat, "Bitch."

Her eyes widened as the glint of the metallic blade caught the flirtatiously dim lighting of the room. He smiled and nodded, lifting the knife above his head. A shrill scream escaped Santana's lips, so loud it throbbed inside her head along with her injuries.

Brody clamped his hand down on her mouth, partially covering her nose, and ignored her petty attempts at biting him. He dropped his arm and pulled the blade slowly down her cheek, drawing a line of blood before bringing it back up and carelessly lowering it again.

"Brody!" Santana registered a new voice shouting from somewhere in the room, loud and terrified. His name echoed through her thoughts as black spots clouded her vision along with the white hot pain that shot through her thigh.

Sebastian lunged at the pair, thumping Brody on the back of the head where he knew it would knock him unconscious. He swayed for a second before collapsing sideways, revealing Santana lying beneath him. Sebastian's breath caught at the sight of her and, despite the ridiculousness of it all, he felt himself cataloging everything that had changed about her appearance since the last time he'd seen her—how she'd grown her hair out, her features had become more defined on her face. She looked gorgeous, even beneath the blanket of bruises that littered her face.

Shaking some sense back into himself, Sebastian shoved Brody's limp body off her and lifted Santana into his arms, running at full pelt down the neat hotel corridor and thundering down the stairs into the lobby.

"Get an ambulance," he said by way of announcing himself, panting, "Now!"

He was greeted by a second of stunned silence from the few people in the dim lobby before someone behind the desk began dialling 911. Soon after, the strangers in the room came back to Earth and started flapping around in a worry.

A woman screamed, "Have you killed her?"

Sebastian stared at her incredulously, "No."

As soon as the ambulance arrived, Sebastian relinquished Santana from his grip into the safe care of the doctors. "Do you want to come in the ambulance with us?"

"No," Sebastian said again, "Her name is Santana Lopez."

With that, he took off back upstairs to find Brody. The idiot needed him to clean up after him again. He methodically cleaned up the shattered glass, put everything neatly back where it should go and dragged the small armchair over to where Brody and Santana had lain, covering the small blood stains on the carpet. The last piece out of place, the key card for the hotel door, lay forgotten on the ground with the large number 231 printed onto it. He picked it up and slipped it into his jacket pocket. When he was done tidying the room looked completely unused and almost as it had before.

Sebastian bent down and lifted Brody, his body more than twice as heavy as Santana's dainty frame. He threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift and took the stairs again. When he reached the ground floor, Brody was coming back to consciousness and the two of them manoeuvred there way to the reception desk.

"Hello," Sebastian said, flashing a charming smile for the twenty-something behind the desk. "Could I see who checked into room 231?"

"Uh, I'm not—," she began but found herself looking into the sparkling eyes of Sebastian Smythe, lured in by that smile of his, "Sure, that was Vicky Kurtz."

"OK, thank you," he winked and pushed away from the table with one hand, the other supporting Brody as he drunkenly moved.

"Seb," Brody gurgled. Sebastian turned to look at him expectantly. "Thanks. For getting rid of the evidence or whatever you do."

They were on the cool New York sidewalk now, car headlights illuminating the darkness and the impatient talking of people on their phones providing a soundproof blanket for their conversation. Sebastian turned down the wide alley beside the hotel and propped Brody up on the wall.

"No problem," he said, smiling the same smile he had for the receptionist. Sebastian lifted his fist and buzzed with the satisfaction that came when it connected with Brody's face. With the force of his punch, his head knocked back against the brick wall and he slumped to the ground. "Dick."

Sebastian turned and walked away.