Set after S and B got sort of married in Vegas. And blew up Disney World. Those were true life stories. No lie.
Glee: Modern Warfare
Members of the New Directions trickled into the music room slowly to wait impatiently for Mr Schue who had summonsed them all for an impromptu 'Very Important Glee Club Meeting Which Must Not Be Missed'.
Quinn watched eagle eyed as Brittany and Santana came in behind Puck with a highly suspicious, subdued air about them. Without a snark on Santana's behalf or a smile on Brittany's, they made their way to the back row of chairs and sat down together. Brittany sighed and rested her head on Santana's shoulder.
"What up with those two?" Mercedes leaned over to whisper to Quinn not wanting Santana's super gossip sensor to hone in on them.
"Don't know. Its probably best not to ask."
"Do you think one of them could be pregnant?"
"What!"
"C'mon you must have seen stuff go down in the Cheerios locker room. If anyone could manage it, it'd be those two."
"I am not having this conversation with you," Quinn held up her palm to emphasize the sentence.
"But seriously Quinn, look. Brittany doesn't look happy, and Brittany's always happy."
Quinn looked over to where her friends sat and caught Brittany's eye who then half heartedly smiled at her. Quinn smiled back until Santana caught on and glowered across the room.
"Do not stick your nose in there Mercedes, or you'll lose it," Quinn warned ominously.
Sat on the front row Finn's brow furrowed as something pinged his left ear. He blinked in bewilderment and looked around the room. Seeing nothing suspicious but still puzzled, he turned back to face the front only to find Puck beside him gathering a handful of peanuts from where they'd been steadily accumulating on the floor. Puck then proceeded to throw them back as hard as possible to where they had originated from. The girls in between him and a very bored Santana screamed as they were showered with peanuts. The peanut war ended when Artie and Sam entered the room and posed melodramatically.
"We have called you here today, the finest glee clubbers in the land," Artie announced to the sceptical looking girls of New Directions who didn't have a clue what was going on. "We have assembled the finest heroes in order to request you to do your duty." Multiple 'What the fuck' facial expressions were passed around by the girls.
"You guys spend way too much time playing computer games and watching comic book movies," Mercedes snorted in disgust and rolled her eyes.
"Anyway, what are you talking about? Mr Schue called us here for a meeting, not you," Tina pointed out everyone's mild confusion.
"Hey, listen to the man." Puck held up a hand to interrupt the decidedly unimpressed girls and halt the outbreak of eye rolling about to unfold. "We just need five minutes of your time before Mr Schue gets here. This is a war cabinet. We've got a plan."
"A plan for what?" demanded Quinn.
Finn, Puck, Artie, Sam and Mike walked to the front of the room with grim expressions on their faces. It was a month before the Nationals competition and they had worryingly felt the need to hijack an emergency Glee meeting, an action previously only invoked by the ever overly enthusiastic Rachel and Mr Schuester. The rest of the Glee club had assembled for Mr Schue, looking unimpressed that they had to turn up out of scheduled rehearsal time. Now they were even more disgruntled by the mad ravings of xbox addicts.
"We've been thinking of ways to throw Vocal Adrenaline off their game," explained Artie.
"We're not gonna lose to them again," Finn chipped in, slamming his fist into his palm for emphasis.
"Oh God," Mercedes murmured to herself. "Here we go."
"That doesn't seem fair," Tina sighed with resignation. "They haven't done anything to us this year."
"We gave them their new female lead. In case you had forgotten," Sam huffed.
"Rachel, have you forgotten the heart crushing humiliation from the past two years? They threw us off with all that Jesse crap and played games with us with Sunshine," Finn said earnestly, hoping for Rachel's approval and worried that she hadn't said anything yet. Rachel looked uncertain but held her peace.
"It's not even cheating," Puck butted in smoothly. "They'll be doing the same thing to us."
"Actually, they won't," Brittany piped up from her vantage point on Santana's shoulder, and stated it as simple fact, as though this reply was the most obvious thing in the world.
"What?"
"They don't think we're a threat, that's why they haven't tried anything," Mercedes explained patiently, clearly thinking she was imparting breaking news to a bunch of escaped crazies.
"This is different, this is Nationals!" Puck slammed his fist down on the top of the piano making everyone jump. "We can't leave anything up to chance."
"This is competition," Rachel mused, the only girl who had listened to the boys' argument without rolling her eyes or shaking her head in despair. "It's like warfare, but without the dying part." She spoke matter of factly as though this was a truth borne from years of experience. "Do you have anything in mind?"
"Well..."
"Actually-"
"Don't you think we should focus on our own performance and not ruining theirs or anyone else's?" Lauren interrupted.
"I gotta side with the Zizes on this one," Santana agreed. "We can squash them by being our awesome selves. Although in her case, literally." She gave a sickly sweet smile to Lauren earning a nudge in the ribs from Brittany.
"This isn't even about Nationals it's this stupid vendetta with Vocal Adrenaline," said Quinn.
"There is no vendetta!" Puck tried to convince them. "We just want to be ready for when they try something."
"We lost because of Rachel and Finn," Santana snapped at the idiot assembly. "Not because of Vocal Adrenaline." She rounded on Rachel. "Maybe if you two hadn't started sucking face in the middle of a performance we might have done better than twelfth place."
"Like you could have done any better," Rachel instantly answered back. Santana's eyes narrowed dangerously and she stood amidst the tense hush which had descended upon the room as Rachel realised what she had said. "Wait! You- what? No! I mean-"
"Shut it, Berry! All the shit you come up with, 'I'm so fucking wonderful' and, 'I'm gonna rule the world with my perfect, perfect singing.' Then you went and blew it. No one else, you and Finn fucking blew it and everyone just sat back and took it. Well you know what?" She took a menacing step forward.
"Santana, calm down," Brittany reached over and held her back by the arm.
"I am perfectly calm," she scowled, throwing her hands up in the air and turning away from her antagonist.
Brittany pulled Santana back down to her seat next to her and held on, just in case, then she turned to address Rachel. "The last two times we lost, you two did a duet. And besides, Finn looks like he's constipated when he's singing. It's not a good look." Finn took on the hangdog look of a small child whose sandcastle had just been stamped on. "Sorry Finn."
She paused, looked around the room at everyone staring back at the words of wisdom coming for once from Brittany. "It should be a solo, and Rachel should sing it. One of those big broadway things that will blow the roof off, and then a massive group number where everyone gets a turn so people will see how awesome the whole club is."
"Wait, why should Rachel get a solo?" Mercedes demanded to know. "There's a few of us who could pull off a solo."
"You're right," Brittany nodded in agreement. "There are. You could sing your heart out and we might win with it. But, if Rachel pulls it off. We will win. And this is our last shot, you guys. This is our Senior Nationals and we have to put our star player out there. And you know, maybe we can think of songs before going to New York this time and rehearse a bit more, rather than leave it all until the night before the competition."
"The voice of reason, Miss Brittany S. Pierce." Kurt said, almost reverently. "Oh, how far we have come."
Brittany grinned at him as a stunned silence swirled around the room while Brittany's words sank in. No one disagreed with her proposal.
"She's right," Santana muttered, causing Rachel to squeak in delight, run up the couple of steps and throw her arms around Brittany and Santana. "That doesn't mean you can touch me!" Santana growled at the shorter girl but the anger from earlier was absent this time.
"What are you going to sing, Rachel?" Kurt asked, as Santana prised Rachel's fingers off her waist and pushed her into Brittany, let her deal with the cuddly stuff.
"Don't worry your pretty little heads," she beamed around the room at the reluctant but unanimous acknowledgement and acceptance she had finally received. "I've got it covered. Now all we need to proceed is Mr Schue."
"Alright guys, listen up! We've got mail and it's got a National show choir board stamp on it," Mr Schuester announced as finally he rushed excitedly into the choir room.
Back in her seat, Rachel grabbed Kurt and they held onto each other's arms squeezing hard, closing their eyes and waiting anxiously. They all knew what was in the envelope but it didn't make the anticipation any less exciting. Will opened the envelope and a big grin almost split his baby butt chin in two.
"Get those permission slips signed asap guys, we're officially going to Nationals!"
Brittany and Santana watched glumly as the rest of the Glee club jumped up and down, screaming, laughing, hugging, dancing and undeniably deliriously happy. After a few minutes the initial rapture wore off and Quinn was the first to notice the two Cheerios sitting frozen, in what could only be thinly veiled misery as the truth finally sank in.
"What's the matter ladies?" she smirked, knowing full well what they were thinking. "Don't think you can get your permission slips signed?"
Quinn watched the girls' non ecstatic reactions and was slowly joined in her observation by the whole club who had eventually calmed down. They watched the two girls' underwhelming response to the admittedly pretty exciting news.
"I'm not that sure we can go," Santana admitted, voicing the thought which had plagued her and Brittany's past few weeks as Nationals loomed closer.
"Do we need a passport?" Brittany asked anxiously. "I don't have one any more. Mine's been reversed."
"Revoked, B." Santana explained. "And no, we don't need passports for New York."
"That's what I said," Brittany huffed. "The FBI took them away and I'm pretty sure we're not allowed to leave the state," she finished quietly. Santana moved her hand over and gripped Brittany's tightly. "The FBI are watching us," Brittany whispered, as though there were agents spying on them right then. "We won't be allowed to go."
"It's okay. It'll be okay. We can do this if it's like official school business or something. They'll have to let us go. If not we'll go in disguise or something."
FBI? Passports? Quinn frowned and exchanged a confused glance with a sceptical Mercedes but then both shrugged and took it as one of Brittany's 'does-not-compute' sayings.
"What about your father, Santana?" Rachel asked worriedly, trying to process a million exciting things at once and wondering how to ensure all her backing singers would be there to support her in New York. The whole of New Directions had to be there. "You must have parental permission to go and you're both grounded for life."
Santana felt like hell. It was like karma was catching up with her and she was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to do that until her next lifetime, right? This was almost as bad as the time she had come into the music room one day to find Quinn showing their wedding DVD to the whole glee club. Over the years all those scornful remarks, the backstabbing, bitchy comments and competitiveness between them had come back and bitchslapped her in the face. It was quite possibly made even worse by the way everyone had been cooing and oohing and ahhing over the whole thing. And then there has been Brittany.
"Britt?"
"Oh, hey babe."
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Watching our DVD. Come and see," she patted the chair next to her beckoning Santana over.
"Oh my god Santana, Barbra is touching you!" Rachel squealed.
Quinn walked over and handed the notice Mr Schue had just read out to the group. Santana took it gingerly as though it would bite and then sighed. It was true. It was real. They were officially invited to New York for Nationals.
'McKinley High School's New Directions are cordially invited to the National Show Choir Competition in New York City to compete for the National championship title. Accommodation will be provided at the blah blah blah...'
Her eyes glazed over. Ahhh shit. Brittany gave a sad pout next to her and rested her head on Santana's shoulder in melancholy.
"I guess I need to talk to my dad," Santana scowled at the paper in her hands. If looks could kill the paper would have caught fire.
"Do you want me to come help?" Brittany murmured into her ear.
"Uh no, not this time B. I think it might be slightly easier if you weren't there reminding him of… everything"
"I could come with you, I'm very persuasive," a chirpy Rachel offered.
"We could all come," offered Finn, genuinely. "If it would help."
"Thanks guys, but," Santana sighed, everyone was so much friendlier to her now she was not so secretly with Brittany. It's like they weren't so scared of her now Brittany had tamed her. She took a deep breath. "I can do this. I'll talk to him."
Her mind wandered as she tried to think of ways to convince her father it would be safe for him to let her out of the state. She could hear Rachel burbling away in the background.
"Mr Schue, you have to sort this out. Call a school board meeting if you have to. We need to keep our numbers up. This cannot be allowed to happen. Oh God, I knew it. I've become over reliant on backing singers, I should have listened to my vocal coach."
"There's more!" Mr Schue interrupted Rachel before she could go into overdrive. "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"
"Good news!" Everyone called, still celebrating.
Will grinned at their jubilation. "We've got enough money to get more hotel rooms this time. Two to a room."
The response was ecstatic with more screaming and hugging and cheering.
"What's the bad news?" Finn asked warily.
"The reason we have more money for hotel rooms is because we're not flying to New York this time. Instead of spending the cash on plane tickets we'll be going by bus."
A tumble weed wouldn't have been out of place at that moment.
"Twelve hours on a bus with these guys, to New York? Mr Schue, have you caught a ride on the crazy train?"
"Has Coach Sylvester been putting stuff in your food again Mr Schue?" Quinn asked seriously. "I warned you not to let your guard down."
"Hey! It's that or you all share one room this time around."
The boys didn't look all that upset at the prospect but the girls reaction was pure outrage. "Eeww, gross."
"Oh hell to the no!"
The blood drained from Kurt's face. "I refuse point blank to share a room with those Neanderthals. I mean, have you ever been inside the boys locker room? That will give you an idea of how disgusting they are."
"Yeah!"
"Hey!" Sam looked affronted but Puck just shrugged.
"Boys smell, and snore."
"Shut up Quinn, you snore."
"Santana snores."
"What? No I don't, B!"
"Soooo, the bus doesn't look so bad now, does it?" Will grinned.
With an exasperated sigh at the squabbling, Rachel spun on her heels and snatched the invitation from Santana's hand, holding it up to the light to verify its authenticity. Then, she began to scream. An ear splitting, nose bleeding screech as though she were channelling the power of the ancient sirens.
"Rachel, what is it?" Mr Schue asked worried, his hands clamped over his ears.
"What's wrong?" Finn jumped up to stand next to her gripping her by her shoulder to try and calm her down.
"SHUT UP!" Santana shouted feeling a headache coming on.
"You'll wreck your voice." Kurt said calmly. Immediately she stopped. Then, began to splutter out words.
"Guest star judge. GUEST STAR JUDGE!" she screeched, then scrambled up on to the piano stool and stood on top of the piano. Thank God Brad wasn't there or Rachel Berry would never had made it Nationals. She held up the invite reverently and gasped out the next two words.
"Barbra Streisand."
The entire Glee club gasped then Kurt began to scream and Rachel joined in with him again. She jumped down off the piano into his arms and began to jump round and round in a screeching circle of flying hair and scarves and brain freezing incredibleness.
Santana's jaw dropped. Alongside her, Brittany's eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect 'O' shape. What the actual fuck? Santana's brain began to fritz and overload. Brittany and Santana exchanged a stunned look. Streisand and Nationals.
"We have to go," Brittany whispered in Santana's ear. Santana nodded numbly in agreement.
This had the potential to be an epic trip of epicly epic proportions. Or a complete and utter disaster.
Doctor Lopez looked at the clock as he heard the front door open and someone come in, right on time. Santana was expected home immediately after Glee club or Cheerios practice every day. Ever since her escapades with Brittany she was officially grounded for the rest of her natural life but somehow seemed to manage to get out of it when the mood suited her. With a grin at seeing her father home from work early for once she threw herself into the chair opposite him at the dining room table and they stared at each other in anticipation. Santana's father raised an eyebrow, afraid to ask, because something was clearly up.
"How was school?"
"Hmmm, 'kay."
Santana slapped down a sheet of paper in front of him, the permission slip for Nationals. Her father moved his hand to pick it up but her hand didn't budge from the top of it.
"I just want to say that," she paused and took a breath trying to think of the best way to say this. Her father rolled his eyes as he listened to her opening words.
"Stuff's gone down over the past year which, uh, is in the past and I think we should move beyond that now and," Santana winced, she was coming across as verbose as Finn. Her father gazed back at her while she babbled on.
"I swear I'll be good this time. Daddy, please consider it properly. It'll be school supervised, there's chaperones and responsible adults will be around all the time and just think of all those times I went to Nationals with the Cheerios and you didn't come and see me which hurt, papi, that you didn't want to see our world dominating routines and... It hurt me and my feelings, which I have now, and I just want you to be proud of me you know, and I know I've screwed up multiple times, I mean, only twice, and not gotten away with it, but I'm getting better at it. At not screwing up not, like, getting away with it." Having managed to confuse herself, Santana paused for a moment as her father gave her a puzzled frown.
"What are you talking about?"
She removed her hand from the paper and he looked down at it. "Show Choir National Finals competition, New York City," he read aloud to himself. "Is this what all the fuss is about?"
"Look, I'll be straight up with you. Don't tell anyone I said this but I really really like Glee and Bri-, uh, I love it and we're in the finals that's how good we are."
"Of course you can go."
Santana's jaw almost hit the table top.
"I'm sorry, what? For what! What? Why? But... why aren't you freaking out and locking me in my room? You know Britt will be going too. You'll let me go to New York with Brittany? Are you out of your mind?" She stood up and slammed her fists down on the table yelling, "Who are you and what have you done with my father?"
"Santana!" Her father interrupted. With an uncontrollable ever so slightly sly grin she shut up and sat down shaking slightly in mild shock.
"You can go."
Santana's mouth open and closed like a brain dead goldfish. She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't understand."
"You can go. So long as you behave and nothing goes... haywire, this time."
Santana broke out into a big grin. "Really? Oh daddy, that's so awesome." She ran around the table and threw herself on him in a bear hug. "We're going to win! I have to go phone Britt. Nothing will go wrong this time!" And with that she ran up the stairs to her room to break the good news to her best friend.
Her father listened to her footsteps flying up the stairs and smirked as he said to himself.
"Oh, by the way, Santana. I forgot to tell you that I have a conference in New York that weekend so I will try my best to come and see you perform. If you screw up I will take you out of the competition and straight home with me." His smirk turned to a frown. "Fully chaperoned and I'll be there. Nothing could go wrong, surely."