I
Never mind that some law-abiding citizen called in the illegal Pikachu factory above their loft. Santana smirks. Still, this is what they get for moving in upstairs. Evanderchang (she prefers that to Blamtina, what the hell is that?) really ought to get a better lock for their door. It's Bushwick. You never know who'll stroll in during the middle of the day.
Besides, this is a thing she does and they're just going to have to get over it. They should understand that sometimes your psychic Mexican third eye just needs a push.
II
It smells like corn chips and dirty socks in Sam's room. Santana's so glad she loves women. She sidesteps the laundry piles on the floor and stacks of comic books and kneels down to start rifling through his drawers, but there's a noise from up on the ratty wall, and there's a trout hanging up there. It's singing.
Here she was just a walkin' down the street
Singing do, wah, ditty, ditty, dum, diddy, do
Stampin' her finger and then shufflin' her feet
Singing do, wah, ditty, ditty, dum, diddy, do
She scrambles over and yanks the plug out of the wall.
Sam's got the usual herd of pictures. His family. Brittany. Santana narrows her eyes at the trout.
The condom box has just ripped wrappers in it. Hmmmm. The drawer above it is stuffed full of illegal Pikachu toys.
In a garbage bag way in the back of Sam's closet, she finds a pair of brown drawstring pants, a loose shirt, brown suspenders and a hideous, oversized set of hairy feet. At the bottom of the bag is an empty DVD case of Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.
The clothes drawers yield something unexpected. Among the (very few) clean and folded boxers and socks is a rolled up pair of black lace hipster panties. Santana puts it up to her own hips. Whoever this belongs to wears a slightly bigger size. They're actually pretty cute. She purses her lips; so that's where her devil-printed undies went.
III
Tina's room smells like sandalwood. Nice. Her room is neat as a pin, inside and out, which means that there's more potential for dirt.
The very bottom drawer of her bedside table holds a black velvet bag, and in the bag is a pair of white fur-trimmed handcuffs. Santana's respect for Tina goes up just a little. She might have to borrow those.
On top of her dresser is a set of framed pictures. Mom, dad, a couple of headshots, a graduation picture of Blaine, Sam, Tina and Artie, and the new New Directions in their Regional costumes. Cute. One of the pictures at the front has been turned around to face the wall. It's Mike.
Under her bed is an empty hair gel container. Santana opens it and puts it up to her nose. Raspberry. Gross. She makes audible gagging noises. It's really hard not to judge, but she's going to do it anyway: move along, Tina, move along. Blanderson's googley-eyed for Lady Hummel, no way he's going to switch teams for your cute little ass.
Which reminds her. She pulls out Tina's underwear drawer and dumps the entire contents of it on the floor. She goes through every single set, and she finds what she's looking for, something with nothing to go with it: a black lace bra. Santana smiles, satisfied, like the cat who just ate the canary.
IV
Blaine's room smells like his cologne: light, crisp, and clean. His room is neat, too, but she doesn't expect to find that much. Among the McKinley photos pinned to his bulletin board is a picture of Blaine and Sam wearing hobbit costumes and grinning like fanboys. Santana rolls her eyes.
There are newly polished, silver-framed pictures of Kurt on the bedside table. Expected. The Nightbird costume, carefully folded and pressed, isn't a surprise. It's kinda hot, actually. The display case of vintage bowties? Weirder, but also not a surprise. The sealed paper bag of whole coffee beans marked IN CASE OF EMERGENCY? Definitely not a surprise.
She averts her eyes from the scrapbook in his desk drawer.
She doesn't find a ring box. Tina had implied that The Fun-Sized Anderson Brother just took it everywhere with him, waiting for whatever the right moment was. His wastepaper basket is full. Santana dumps it all out on the rug. There's a balled-up, torn, scribbled-over wad of paper at the bottom, and she smooths it out for easier reading.
Hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here. (Kneel)
In "When Harry Met Sally", they get together in the end. (Kneel)
(Note to self: ask Sam to play Come What May on iPod. He's allergic to dove feathers.)
Please marry me, Kurt. You're the only one for me. (Kneel. Present ring. Tina releases doves.)
You're the Dolce to my Gabbana, Kurt. I love you. Will you marry me? (Kneel. Then doves? Then ring?)
Make me the happiest man on earth. Marry me. Say yes. (Kneel here. Doves here. Then ring? Then music?)
(Doves. Music.) Will you (pause, look up) Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, do me the honor of becoming my husband? I will love you forever. I will love you until my dying day. (Kneel. Ring. Wait.)
That last entry is circled about a million times. Santana coughs and pulls out a Kleenex. She decides to do Short Stack Mini-Cooper a favor and empty out his trash, but she leaves the paper, all nicely straightened out, on top of his desk. He'll need that for later.
