A/N: I just want to apologize for this story. I had this strange ass story running through my head, and had to put it down. Feel free to slam as necessary.
I do not own Glee. If I did, it would be ten times worse, I'm sure.
Dark Meadow, Some Country, Earth.
2152.
The night was dark. It wasn't too dark that no one could see, but it was still pretty dark. Four figures made their way through a dark meadow towards a dark building. The figures were dressed in dark colors, so they would blend in to the darkness. The only things that gave them away were the green lights on their dark night vision goggles. It was okay, as their enemies that might've seen them were also wearing night vision goggles, which gave you a green vision, so it would kind of blend in. The squad of four expertly made their way through the dark meadow, hoping any lookouts stationed at various points in the building wouldn't see them. Slyly, one of the figures disappeared. This wasn't a surprise to the rest of the squad, as the person in question was a sniper, and a sniper in close quarters is just so damn inconvenient. The squad kept silent, not needing to communicate because they were so in tune with each other, they could communicate with their thoughts. Not really, but they were still pretty close.
"Building just up ahead." The Sniper reported through the radio.
"Obviously." A voice responded immediately.
"Shut it, troll." The sniper shot back.
"Santana, Rachel, silence." The leader of the squad reprimanded her fellows.
"Yeah bu-" Santana started.
"Radio silence." Quinn interrupted.
"I-"
"Shh."
The three figures in the darkness were nearing the building now. The building they were infiltrating was rather large. It looked almost as if a barn took some steroids, and turned into a four story behemoth. The front door was still wide open – or, rather, no door was installed originally, a gaping hole was where a door would have probably been. That whole predicament, the door thing, was rather odd, as normally high security buildings would have a few doors, as opposed to not having any; and it was a high security building. Intelligence had gathered the presence of a whole platoon of highly trained security guards.
"You in position, Santana?" Quinn asked quietly.
The three had taken up position on the outside wall, on each side of the gaping hole in the wall… Sorry, "door".
"I thought you said you want radio silence." Came the snarky reply.
"Don't be such a bitch." Quinn said.
"San. Play nice. Then we can go home and get our sweet lady kisses on." A soft voice said.
A sigh was heard over the radio. "Fine."
"Love you baby." A bright voice said happily.
The response was so quiet, if Quinn and Rachel hadn't known the couple so well, the response would have been unintelligible. But they did, and they quite clearly heard a "Love you too." Quinn made a whipping sound, and they all laughed.
"Shut up."
"Alright. We clear?" Quinn, as usual, was the first to focus up.
"You know, I don't have supervision or something. My guess is as good as yours." Santana remarked.
"Yeah, but you have a thermal scanner in your fucking scope, so just be straight with me." Quinn replied, getting annoyed.
"Whatever. You're clear. Nearest is in a room over."
"What, the nearest guard?"
"No, fucking Santa Clause."
The three silently counted to three, and charged in through the gapdoor. Eyes scanned about in the dark room, revealing a small receptionist desk, and a few computers stacked in the corners. Flashlights were turned on, weaving and lingering a few seconds on points of interest. Two doors, actual doors, were on each side of the room, leading off into the rest of the building. A rather large fireplace sat behind the receptionist desk, looking quite impressive.
"Computers, Brit. Can you do something with them?" Rachel pressed a button on the keyboard, the monitor flickering to life.
Brittany walked over to the monitor and looked briefly, and shook her head. "Can't get into the mainframe with this. Need to find a server."
Rachel scoffed, "Yeah, because I totally know what that is. If I started talking about the new R-17 Rocket that I need for the completely experimental L-R932, you would have no clue what I was talking about."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you just listed a bunch of letters and numbers." Brittany smiled, tapping on the keys. "Good news, found a server room just down the hall. We get in there, and coast is clear."
"Bad news, a group of six are in the hallway down that way." Santana announced.
The three looked uneasily at each other, "What do we do?" Rachel wondered aloud.
While the three could easily take on the six, alerting their presence before Brittany got to the server would be trouble.
"I could yell at them." Santana suggested.
"San, you're like half a mile away from the building." Quinn dismissed her suggestion.
"I can yell pretty fucking loud." Santana grumbled.
"I can sing. I can really pull off Don't Rain on My Parade." Rachel suggested.
"NONOONONONONONOOONO!" Santana yelled over the radio.
"Let's just go for it, then. I hit them with an explosive… And done deal." Rachel said, a hand dropping to a few grenades attached to her belt.
"Fine. Let's go." Quinn sighed, hefting her gun.
Walking over to the correct door, they got into position, Rachel getting ready to lob a grenade at the guards.
"On three, I'll kick the door down, you toss the grenade." Quinn told Rachel.
Again, counting silently to three, the girls sprung into action. Quinn took a step back, knees bending, and put her foot straight through the door. Following her, Rachel turned, expecting the door to be open, and ran straight into the still closed door.
"Shit! My foot!" Quinn yelled, hopping on one foot, trying to remove her foot from the door.
"You didn't kick the door in?" Rachel said, rubbing her head.
"Have you tried knocking?" Santana laughed.
Brittany sighed, walked up to the door, ignoring the hopping Quinn, and twisted the handle. The door would've opened smoothly and silently, if not for the hopping blonde that still had her foot stuck through the middle of the door. Once they glimpsed the guards facing them, three jaws hit the floor. That would've happened, but jaws are unfortunately quite limited on how far they can drop.
"What the fuck?"
The guards were dressed in red. A red coat, red pants, and black boots. Each of the guards were rather overweight, which was surprising. Why would one hire overweight security guards? Each of the guards wore a red cap, which was slightly long, and bent over, sagging to one side. Affixed to the end of each hat was a small white ball. Each of the guards sported a rather large, silver white, beard.
"What?" Santana asked over the radio.
"The guards…" Brittany whispered.
"What?!" Santana asked, a little more forcefully.
"They're Santa Clause! Fucking Santana Clause!" Quinn exclaimed, still hopping, trying to withdraw her foot.
"I fucking called it, bitches!" Santana whooped. A clapping sound was heard over the radio, as Santana gave herself a high-five.
Rachel, the first one to gain control of herself, pulled the pin from her grenade, and launched it at the group of Santas. At the same time, she moved over to stand right in front of Quinn, shielding her from the enemy Santas. The explosion was loud, and, after a quick flash of light, the hallway was clear, save for the bits of Santa Clause that stuck to the walls and roof.
"Where the fuck are we?" Quinn asked, falling on her butt, as Rachel pushed her foot through the door.
The alarm sounded as Quinn retook to her feet. Another three jaws hit the floor, if, of course, jaws could reach that far, or if one was right above the floor. The alarm sounded like Santa's laugh, loud Ho's repeating and reverberating throughout the large barn.
"There's a sign out front. Mall Santa's Emporium." Santana read, "I guess a supply store for all the loser mall Santas."
"I knew it!" Brittany said happily, clapping her hands together.
Quinn and Rachel looked at Brittany sharply.
Brittany simply shrugged, "In high school, I did an expose about whether the mall Santas were actually Santa proving he could be in many places at once, or just normal men dressed up like him." Brittany started to walk towards the end of the hall, "The results were inconclusive."
"Next room, three Santas. Easy take. No explosives." Santana directed the moving girls.
The next room was easily dispatched, as Santana had predicted. The girls stepped over the fallen bodies towards the plethora of computers and equipment that filled the room. Brittany walked towards a particularly large sized electronic equipment. To Quinn and Rachel, nothing stood out about the thing Brittany walked towards. The entire room was hot, as the various computers and towers are always left running, keeping the Emporium running. Brittany tapped a button as the screen of the server came alive. Well, not particularly alive, as the black screen gained a few white letters.
Please enter username:
Brittany smoothly typed in her name. Quinn looked at Brittany questioningly. Brittany simply winked. Rachel walked away, to watch the entrance for the reinforcement Santas.
"Be careful, they travel through fireplaces." Santana cautioned, "Kind of like Harry Potter."
You have entered Dave.
Remember me, Dave?
I remember you.
Please enter your password, scumbag Dave.
Brittany expected to type in a password, although she had no clue what it could be. She quickly typed in something, not really expecting much.
Are you stupid, dumbass Dave?
That is quite incorrect.
Brittany cursed quietly, and sat back, thinking of possible passwords.
"I'm gonna need some time here, Quinn." Brittany said, deep in thought.
"We got some tangos appearing out of the fireplace in the first room. Get hot." Santana said, lining a shot at one of the appearing fat men.
"Tangos? I thought we were fighting Santa?" Brittany wondered.
"Already done." Quinn said, as she took her place by Rachel's side.
"When did Santa get so violent?" Rachel asked quietly when she noticed Quinn appear.
"I don't know. They're probably on drugs." Quinn laughed lightly.
A loud crack filled the night, as a bullet from Santana's sniper rifle found its way into a Santa's head. Rachel and Quinn ducked behind the frame of the door as bullets from some Santa's gun almost impaled itself into the wall.
"You've just been put on the naughty list!" They heard a call from one of the approaching Santas.
"Seriously?" Quinn called, she popped around the corner and nailed a Santa as he got too aggressive and was without cover in the middle of the hallway. "You're seriously gonna go there? He just went there." She said to Rachel.
"Hurry Brit!" Rachel looked back to see Brittany still struggling with the computer.
Did you sniff paint, or something, Dave?
Enter the right fucking password, shit-for-brains.
Did you see that?
I don't cuss. Your stupidity did that to me.
"This computer is so mean." Brittany said sadly.
"Let me get over there! I'll kick its ass!" Santana said angrily.
"Brit. Just press enter or something." Quinn said, barely audible over the Santa gunfight.
"You serious? This is a high tech computer security system. It has reached weird levels of intelligence, and me just pressing enter…" Brittany started as she pressed enter.
Thank fucking God!
About time!
"Won't do anything." Brittany said quietly. "Good news, I'm in!"
"Yes!" Quinn cheered, "What password did it?"
"Umm… You know…. The right one…" Brittany slowly trailed off.
"Get to the roof, airborne reinforcement Santas." Santana called to the gathered girls.
Quinn and Rachel stormed up nearby stairs to the roof, and Brittany stayed back to gather the needed information from the database.
"This is just like when I was in 'Nam." Santana said, as she spotted Quinn and Rachel on the roof.
"You weren't in 'Nam, Santana." Rachel said.
"Shut it, Troll. You weren't in 'Nam, you don't know what went on down there." Santana said, her voice sounding as if she was reminiscing about some horrific event.
The unmistakable sound of the whirring of helicopter blades took over the dark meadow. Well, it was less dark now, as the sun had just started peeking over the horizon. But it was the dark time of morning, so it was still pretty dark.
"You've got to be shitting me." Santana sighed, as the helicopter appeared over the trees.
The red blades glinted in the dark sunlight, but the reason for Santana's comment was not because of that. Nope, instead of the helicopter body, or rather, attached to the red blades, sat an oversized sleigh, containing 30 angry Santas, firing upon the two girls standing on the roof. While Santana was watching the helicopter-sleigh, a group of Santas were sneaking up on Brittany, who was still preoccupied with the information. Rachel pulled out a rocket launcher almost twice the size of her.
"What's that?" Quinn said, not seeing Rachel with one of those before.
"Completely experimental L-R932, works occasionally." Rachel said, leveling it at the sleighcopter.
"Occasionally?" Quinn raised an eyebrow.
"Fine. It's worked four times. Five after this." Rachel said, preparing to fire.
"What happens when it doesn't?" Quinn asked.
"It explodes. Quite spectacularly, I must add." The rocket flew out of the R-L932 and soared towards the sleighcopter.
The explosion was quite bright; illuminating the dark meadow and surrounding landscape. Santana cheered as the smoking wreck of the sleighcopter landed in the dark grass of the meadow. A scream pierced the concentration of the girls on the roof and the one hiding on a hill. Santana's eyes instantly snapped to a room located on the first floor. Through her thermal scanner, she could see three large figures standing over a smaller one, completely motionless.
"Brit?" Santana called, her voice soft and shaky. "Brit? Answer me!"
Quinn and Rachel didn't need to look at each other, at the same time, both launched themselves towards the stairs, almost as if they were in some morbid race to see who could reach the bottom floor the fastest.
"Brit!" Santana felt the tears slowly falling down her face. She hated crying, the warm, salty tears always signifying weakness.
She saw the three figures suddenly fall over, two different images running to the small figure. Santana watched as the taller of the two figures put a hand on Brittany's neck, feeling for a pulse. The image of Quinn looked at the image of Rachel, and Rachel put her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. That was all Santana needed to see; reaching to the back of her leg, she pulled out a small pistol that she always had in case of an emergency. This definitely qualified. Quinn looked up to where she knew Santana was hiding.
"You better not, San." Quinn said, her voice cracking over the radio.
"I can't live without her." Santana whispered. Her hand was shaking badly, as the pistol slowly made its way to the side of her head.
"You stop it! That's an order!" Quinn almost yelled at her radio.
"Goodbye, Quinn."
A shot rang out, over the dark and quiet meadow. Only the meadow was even less dark, as the sun was making its way in the sky. But, at the same time, it was the darkest it had been in some time.