Summary: He was a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. She was the head cheerleader and the perfect student. When Brett Pierce transfers to McKinley High, can this dog teach a girl some new tricks? Badass/Boy!Britt

Chapter One

Brett Pierce leaned back casually against his black Harley Davidson, sunglasses perched snugly on his slightly tanned nose. He slowly pulled the lit cigarette in his hand to his smooth lips, inhaling the smoke and reveling in the calm feeling that washed over him.

So what if he was underage?

He didn't care.

Might as well call him honey badger with all the fucks he gave.

The blonde-haired boy's lips quirked upward when he glanced at the time flashing on his cellphone, school had started over twenty minutes ago.

So, logically, he was right on time.

He pushed off his bike and threw what was left of his cigarette on the floor, smashing it in a circular motion with his shoe. Brett dug his hands in his jean pockets, heading toward the school entrance in no particular hurry.

The blonde's steps halted momentarily as he reached the top of the steps, a flash of child-like worry glinting in his eyes.

A new school, new people, new problems-

No.

That was the old Brett.

This was the new Brett, and New Brett was stronger than he was before.

And holy shit, he felt like he had a personality disorder with all these different Brett's.

He wouldn't be surprised if some burrito worker named Lola was actually taking up residence in his body as well.

Didn't really matter, he liked Mexican food anyways.

Running a hand through the messy locks on his head, Brett sighed and pushed forward toward the rest of his senior year.

"Alright, class. One more time! Hola, como estas," Mr. Schuester clapped his hands excitedly, eyeing his room in determination.

There was a collective groan from the teens seated, all of them mumbling the greeting for the tenth time that morning.

Except for the weird smelling kid in the back.

He had been saying 'taco' for a good half an hour now.

No one questioned it.

The real question was, why were they learning simple greetings when they were two months into the school year?

The curly-headed teacher looked up from the whiteboard when he heard the door open and close rather loudly, eyes locking with tinted sunglasses.

Well, okay.

"Can I help you?" Mr. Schue asked confusedly, looking at his other students as if they held the answers.

Clearly he was doing a bang up job at teaching, Brett thought sarcastically.

"Brett Pierce." He offered bluntly, not bothering to remove his sunglasses or his hands from his pockets.

"Oh, right!" Schue exclaimed, shuffling papers around his desk for god knows what reason, "Class, this is our new student Brett Pierce. Why don't you tell the class about yourself, Brett?"

Wow. He felt like he was in kindergarten again.

Nevertheless, he strode purposefully to the front of the room and turned to face the crowd of teens. Some looked on in awe and curiosity, and others fiddled with pens and pencils.

Granted, all of those paying attention were all of the female variety.

"What do you want to know?" Brett drawled lazily, fixing his eyes on the teacher.

Mr. Schue shrugged but the smile didn't leave his face. "Anything you'd like to share about yourself."

"Like why the hell are your pants so tight, Jonas Brother?" A guy with a mohawk yelled from the back of the room, causing the students to erupt in giggles.

"Puck-" Mr. Schue started, but was quickly cut off.

"No, no it's fine, Teach. Puck, is it?" Brett inquired with a broad smile, leaning back against the large desk in the front of the room.

"Who wants to know?" Puck asked smugly, folding his arms against his chest.

He had no idea what he had just started.

"Well, that would be me, Puck. Brett Pierce. Pleased to meet your acquaintance," the blonde began tapping his fingers against the wooden surface. "You probably would have heard that earlier if your head hadn't been so far up your ass. That's okay though, but isn't it animal cruelty to keep that squirrel on your head suffocated for so long?"

If the room had been laughing before, they were in hysterics now.

Puck's mouth open and closed like a flabbergasted fish, finally looking out the window as if the whole conversation had never occurred.

"Mr. Pierce, we do not tolerate that type of language in my classroom. Especially on your first day," Mr. Schue scolded, but Brett swore he saw a smile ghosting across his face. "To the office, right now."

The blonde shrugged and saluted with two fingers to Puck, sauntering out without a second glance back.

When the door slammed shut behind him, the whispers broke loose.

"He is so hot!"

"I could totally just eat him up!"

"He's...interesting." A sultry voice commented as well from the middle of the room, a place reserved for only the most popular.

In other words, a place reserved for Santana Marie Lopez.

Brett wasn't released from the office until after his first class had ended, now walking down the slightly-crowded hallway.

McKinley's faculty was a joke, as he was sent off with a waggle of a finger and a "firm" warning.

Though he wasn't complaining, he didn't need to get into any large amounts of trouble.

There were certain people that depended on him.

As he made his way to his second class, he noticed a small brunette being pushed into a locker, her books that were previously clutched in her arms now scattering the floor.

Damn the gentleman side of him.

He veered off his course, reaching down to collect the papers and stood up, having to tilt his head down to see the smaller girl.

He handed her the papers wordlessly.

"Oh, thank you! I'd prefer to thank you by name but I haven't seen you around here before. I assume that you are a new student, as most people wouldn't stop to help someone like me-" The girl rambled, Brett's jaw nearly dropping at her ability to speak without taking a breath.

"Woah, simmer down, firecracker." The blonde held his hands up as if in surrender. "Yeah, I'm new. And I'm not heartless, despite what you may or may not hear, so yeah, I'm going to help." He shrugged noncommittally.

The smile on the brunette's face grew impossibly wider as he spoke.

Like really. It was starting to creep him out.

But for some reason, he couldn't help but feel comfortable talking to her. She had a warm presence. Even after he promised himself that any characteristics of the old Brett were to stay hidden, he couldn't help but be nice to this stranger.

"I'm Rachel Berry." She stated proudly, reaching out a hand which Brett awkwardly shook.

"Uh, I'm-it's Brett. My name's Brett." He rubbed at the back of his neck, not used to be civil with others.

"It's a pleasure! Maybe you'd like to be introduced to some of my friends, seeing as you're new here. Unless you don't want to, that would be perfectly fine as well-"

"Yeah, whatever." Brett cut off another rant quickly, eyes drifting around the hall.

And that was when he saw her.

Really saw her.

Her body was clad in a tight cheerleading uniform and her shiny, thick hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. Her cheekbones were prominent, complimented by full lips.

He could feel his little soldier began to salute, so he quickly looked away and back toward Rachel, realizing she was still talking to him.

"Who's that?" He cut in once again, nodding his head toward the beautiful girl.

Wait, beautiful? The New Brett did not say beautiful.

Maybe sexy, hot, hot-mama-licious, but never beautiful.

Rachel looked in the direction he had indicated, something that looked like fear flashing in her eyes. "That would be Santana Lopez. She runs this place with an iron first, if I do say so myself."

"Huh." Was all Brett replied with.

"Why?" Rachel asked, almost hesitantly.

"Because that, my dear Berry, is going to be my future wife."

Yes, no, maybe so?