Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 45th cycle. Now cycle 46!
INTRODUCING "CHEAT SHEET" - If you want to know ahead of time when a certain series will be updated next, just reassemble the link below and check out the list, save it, print it, bookmark it, whatever you need!
Go to: gleekathon [dot] tumblr [dot] com [slash] cheatsheet
(cycle 46 cheat sheet will be up later)
"Crazy Ideas Are Made of This"
(Future but pre-Trinity) Santana/Brittany
Trinity Series
(all series now listed under the communities tab in my profile)
(A/N: I know in the previous story it said TROIKA would be in this cycle, but then I realized I'd spoken too soon,
it IS in the next one for certain though, so to make up for it, added another peek into it at the end here.)
Some years ago…
It was Hattie's sister's wedding, and as Santana and Brittany were also friends with Emmy, they had been invited. The ceremony had been simple and beautiful, and they had been almost too amused at seeing Hattie, usually not too prone for emotional outbursts, weeping happily for her older sister's nuptials. So it was a good thing she wasn't alone.
As soon as Hattie had informed them that they'd be getting that invite, they weren't curious about what they might wear, what they'd bring for a present. All they wanted to know was who Hattie would take with her as her date. Actually they weren't so much asking her who as they were trying to know if she'd take a certain waitress she'd had her eye on for weeks. Waiting for Hattie to wise up about June had been a fun game for them, but now it was getting dire. Still Hattie had resisted here, shaking her head at the very idea of opening on to anything with June at, of all thing, her sister's wedding. But then maybe the words had laid an unshakeable idea in her mind, because days later they had been witness to the most awkwardly adorable asking out they had ever seen. It was made all the better by June saying yes.
The ceremony now over, they had moved to the reception hall, where everything was light and bright in celebration of the newlyweds, Emmy and Walt. They were sat at their table when the bride herself stopped in to chat. "What did you do to finally get her to ask her out?" she asked, amused, as all three of them watched Hattie off on the dance floor with June. They laughed and smiled, confirming with one look just what happened when a usually reserved person was put up against an emotion too big to be contained… Hattie was happy, because for as long as it had taken for her to get up the courage to ask June out, the other girl had been waiting on it, too.
The one possibly sour note, somewhere along the evening, had been the live entertainment. The singer was fine by most standards, but to others it was just a full on shame. "I'm going to get up there," Santana had started to threaten, as she and Brittany danced along.
"I know, I know," Brittany would indulge, turning her around to distract her. "Last time we did a wedding was with Glee Club," she had then recalled, smiling to herself. Santana would smile, too, only then the memory would ricochet right into another memory, a more recent one, and less so on the smiles.
They would remember the night, a few weeks back, when they had been surprised with the visit of none other than former fellow Cheerio Quinn Fabray, and then the next night had been surprised again, only this time with the realization that sweet Quinn had gone and chosen a very peculiar career path. The blonde was in the business of breaking into places to retrieve items lost or already stolen, for the people who rightfully owned them. They had made this discovery when they had come home from the movies to find their home broken into by a black clad Quinn, attempting to bandage up a nasty bloody gash along her arm.
Finding out her secret had left one of them chastising her for the ridiculously dangerous nature of it all, while for the other it had been more curiosity, but also something else, like the need to protect, to give solidarity. They had been a unit once… Now as the thought of her continued to linger, there was something left in the air, a question they didn't even dare address in any way so far. Maybe it was this day, maybe it was the excitement of budding love around them that opened their minds to the possibility of opening the floor for discussion.
"Go on, say it," Santana had spoken as they were swaying about on the dance floor, arm in arm. Brittany had pulled back to look at her face.
"I want to help her," she had declared.
"By locking her up in the loony bin?" Santana had frowned.
"The swear jar?" Brittany had blinked in confusion. That was what they had called the jar – which had been instituted at the bar when things had gotten a bit too out of hand – after a few Canadian dollars had found their way in.
"You know what I mean," Santana went on, shaking her head. "This is no joke, it's dangerous, it's… You saw what happened to her last time, what if it had ended worse than that, she could have been arrested, or… or killed," the idea rested unpleasantly in her mind, as it did in Brittany's, and the two had held on closer there for a moment.
"There would be less danger if she wasn't alone," Brittany had pointed out. Santana didn't respond just yet. "And she's helping people, not hurting them… that's good, isn't it?"
"Of course it is. I'd expect nothing less out of Quinn Fabray. And she's stubborn, too, so fat chance we'd ever convince her to stop this. I guess then that's not the part that would bother me in all this."
"So what is?" Brittany had asked. Santana thought, pulled back to see her face.
"The thought of any of that… happening to you, I just…" she sighed, and Brittany gave a sad smile.
"I would lose it if that happened to you, too," she promised, and Santana felt comfort. "But I also think about all that happening to Quinn when we had the option of… reducing the risk," she went on. They both had valid points, which didn't make it any easier. "Look, whatever happens, if we do anything or not, let's just agree that we both need to be on board. It's both of us or neither of us."
"Sounds good to me," Santana agreed. "But do you really want to do this? Honestly?" she needed to know. Brittany considered it.
"I know I could do it, physically. You know, I'm pretty sneaky," she smirked.
"Yeah, I noticed," Santana laughed.
"I don't know, it just feels like… As nice as things are, with work and all, it's like I never really got over…" She paused, and she didn't need to finish for Santana to understand. "I just think we could be doing something good."
"I… I still don't know," Santana admitted.
"That's okay," Brittany promised. "It's just talk, that's all we're doing for now."
"Just talk," Santana agreed. After a moment, Brittany chuckled. "What?" Santana asked. Brittany had very cautiously made for her to turn around and look in the corner. There, Hattie and June were no longer dancing, but instead the hold had shifted to an embrace as they lost themselves in a kiss. "Alright, get her, Hiroda," Santana smirked.
X
Present
She was certain she had regained consciousness at some time or another. She thought she remembered a van, a hallway… but she didn't sustain consciousness until she found herself tied to that chair, in a darkened and quiet room. She breathed as deep as she could, as her surroundings cleared up in her eyes, as did the memory of how she had landed there. She struggled against her restraints, but had no room to work with… yet.
Her first instinct would have been to yell, scream, anything to get noticed. But as much as she could be a regular person, she was also Sneak, of the Trinity, and with how she had ended up there, she knew yelling would not have helped her, so she resisted the urge. Still she knew she had to get out of there and soon, or else…
When the door swung open, she froze. It was the man with the taser, and he wasn't alone, as usual. She didn't say a word, though he looked like he was expecting her to break silence.
"You could make all of this… so easy on yourself. So what will it be?" he asked, sliding a picture across the table. Her eyes couldn't help going down, and they betrayed her, widening. She still wouldn't talk. "Alright, have it your way," he snapped his fingers and two of his men came in to remove the table, while he rolled up his sleeves. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
THE END (TO BE CONTINUED WITH NEXT CYCLE'S "TROIKA" (FOR REAL THIS TIME ;)))
A/N: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.
In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are
always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!