Operation Santana belongs to Brittany
Part I

Brittany's POV:

I fling open the door of my bedroom and drag myself inside. I'm exhausted. Cheerios practice was super intense and on top of that I've been trying to get Lord Tubbington to quit gambling, which is almost a full time job. But on the bright side it's Friday so I get a few days to rest.

I toss my practice bag onto the bed before reaching over to pet Tubs, he gives me an evil look and walks away. I let out a sigh and plop down in my desk chair.

I sit there for a few seconds before I reach over and open up my laptop. I pull up my internet browser and go directly to Facebook, I'm seriously addicted. Facebook is like what ecstasy is for Lord Tubbington, except maybe even worse.

I didn't use to be this bad, but ever since Santana and I broke up I've been addicted. Every day I log in and go to her page, staring longingly at our old photos and browsing new ones to see if she's found someone else.

That thought breaks my heart, sure I'm dating Sam but it isn't the same thing. It's not like I broke up with her, and plus Sam is just someone to have around while I wait for her to wake up and see how perfect we are together.

I sigh and scroll through my Facebook feed when something catches my eye. I freeze. My mind goes blank as I stare at a picture of three girls, two brunettes and a blonde, laughing and holding each other tightly. I swallow hard and read the words above the picture.

11:10 am- Quinn Fabray and Rachel Barbra Berry were tagged in Santana Lopez's album Girl's Week in New York.

Seriously?! What the hell.

After the shock wears off I click on the album title and wait for everything to load. Within seconds my screen is flooded with images of Quinn, Rachel and Santana wearing sexy dresses and smiling at the camera. My heart starts beating faster as I click the third picture in the album.

A shot comes up of Quinn and Santana with their legs wrapped around a street sign pole both gazing with lusty eyes at the photographer. I click again.

The next picture is of all three girls running down a New York sidewalk. I can't help but wonder who took the picture. I click the next button a few more times, each picture showing the girls outside in New York City.

I click again, but freeze when I come to the first photo that looks like it was taken indoors, it looks like the inside of a restaurant maybe; but that isn't what I stare at. In the photo Rachel is sitting on Santana's lap with both arms wrapped tightly around her neck. Santana has a huge smile on her face and Rachel's mouth is only inches from the Latina's ear. It looks like they were unaware of the picture being taken; it looks like they are sharing something intimate.

My heart stops at the thought. I quickly click again, hoping the next picture will show that it was nothing. But instead the next few are of what looks to be a normal dinner between friends, which makes me feel a little better.

I click a few more times but stop dead in my tracks again at the new photo on my screen. Santana is sitting on a couch, her short dress riding dangerously high up on her legs. Quinn in lying against her, blonde hair resting against a tan shoulder. Except that isn't the worst part. No, the worst part is how Santana has one hand resting across Quinn's stomach and the other threaded through silky blonde hair.

I can feel my blood start to boil as I stare at the picture, what the fuck is this? I try to take a deep breath. There is probably an explanation for all of this, and even if something were going on it's not like I can do anything about it, Santana left me. I feel my eyes start to water and a single tear hits the keyboard. I know I should stop looking but I just can't so I take another breath and click the button again anyways.

Unfortunately the next picture is worse, my heart pounds against my chest, another tear falls and I feel myself erupt in anger and frustration.

This one is of all three girls in their pajamas. They are right next to each other on the couch with Santana in the middle. Quinn has her head tucked in the crook of Santana's neck and one hand on the Latina's stomach. Rachel is kneeling on the other side and her lips are pressed to Santana's cheek. But what makes the picture so devastating is that I can see the arousal in her eyes and the hungry smirk on her face as she has one hand on Rachel's thigh and the other on Quinn's neck.

I slam the computer shut, and kick the desk chair over. I can't help the frustrated yell that escapes my lips as I think about the pictures. I pace back and forth, throwing random things around the room. I can't contain my anger, how could Santana do this to me!? How could she just hookup with Quinn and Rachel, fucking RACHEL!? I mean Quinn I can kind of understand, but that is beside the point.

I feel myself slowly coming apart as I re-live our break up, those pictures and every night I've had to spend with Sam instead of her.

I scream and throw myself on to the bed. I lay there seething for a long time before my mind starts to work again. I need to figure out how to get my girl back. Fuck my relationship with Sam, fuck Quinn and Rachel. Santana is mine.

2 hours later…

As I drive I sing along with the music blaring from my radio, trying to keep my mind from wandering to the pictures I'd seen earlier, or to the possible outcome of my plan.

Currently I'm about 20 miles from Louisville because what other rational choice did I have? I'm not about to let Quinn and Rachel have Santana for themselves. Crazies! They've probably been plotting this all along. I always knew those two were secret lady lovers. I huff indignantly at the thought.

As I continue to drive I try to think about exactly what I'm going to do once I get to the college campus. When I decided to come to Kentucky I didn't really get passed the whole "Drive there, get my girl" part of my brilliant scheme.

I realize that Santana may not even be there because I have no idea how long she'll be in New York. This just reignites my rage, if she's still in New York that means she is probably fucking Lucy Caboosey and Man-Hands! Fuck. My. Life. I growl out in frustration as the radio blares out "I Kissed a Girl," which I quickly shut off.

I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as I drive, trying hard to hatch a master plan.

When I pull into Louisville I'm feeling confident with my strategies to get Santana back, I like to call it "Operation Santana belongs to Brittany and only Brittany not some other lady lovers that used to be my friends."

I drive around for a while, but get lost when Siri tells me to turn before I'm supposed to. I silently curse Tubs because ever since he let his gambling buddies use my phone Siri is constantly getting me lost.

Eventually I find the campus and pull into a 'Guest Parking Only' spot, phase one complete.

I let out a long sigh and hope that everything will work and that by the end of the weekend Santana will be mine again.

When I finally find her dorm room, I knock. Nothing. I knock again just to be sure she isn't here. After minute of silence I pull a bobby pin from my hair and pull the two ends apart. I use it to manipulate the lock in the door until it swings open. I smirk and whisper to myself "Phase two complete."

Thanks to being with Sam all the time I've learned a few handy little tricks like this one. When I think about him I instantly feel a little guilty, he is a great guy, but he'll never be Santana. I shake off the thought because there would be time to deal with him later, right now I had other things to think about.

I quietly creep into the empty room and flick on the light. The room is pretty small but it screams Santana. My heart melts and I do a little happy dance when I see the stuffed unicorn I gave her sitting on the bed. My euphoria is short lived though, because the next thing I see is four picture frames hanging on the wall.

The first is of the two of us, we are hugging each other and smiling at the camera, I remember the day it was taken. It was the day Santana finally made 'us' official.

The second picture is of Santana and four other girls in there Cardinals uniforms. At first it seems innocent enough but when I look closer I notice that the girl next to Santana has her arm around MY Latina's small waist, and not in a "We're friends or teammates" sorta way but in a "This girl is mine" sorta way. Anger boils inside me at the thought of someone else thinking that Santana belongs to them, because Santana belongs to no one but me.

I gaze over at the last two pictures which are of Rachel and Quinn. In one they are using their hands to make a heart shape, in the other they are holding up a large sign that reads "We love you Santana!" I clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle a frustrated scream.

I toss my suitcase on her bed and plop down next to it. I look at my phone, it's 6:30 pm. I'm still not sure when Santana is getting back, hopefully it will be tonight or tomorrow because if not I'm going to have to sit here until Sunday. I sigh and lay back, breathing in her familiar scent. Time to commence phase three of the newly renamed "Operation Santana belongs to Brittany and only Brittany not some other lady lovers that used to be my friends, or some random skanky cheerleader." What is phase three you may ask? Well phase three is simple—wait for Santana.

Hope everyone likes this first part, the second part will be in Santana's POV and will contain heavy doses of Smut, Dom!Britt and lots of Fluff. I'd love to hear your comments about the story too! If I get a lot I will post part II tonight or in the morning. Thanks for reading!