Santana doesn't like kids. They are loud, they are smelly, sticky, bratty, gross, annoying, and more high maintenance than she is- which is a serious problem. She doesn't do the whole 'taking care of other people' thing unless it's for Brittany, and even then it's just the bare minimum because Brittany is a big girl and can take care of herself. Santana isn't a people person, and she certainly isn't a little people person.
So when Brittany calls her and asks her if she wants to help Kurt and Blaine babysit Beth with her because Ms. Corcoran is busy filming a movie, Santana's automatic response is a very enthusiastic, "Hell no."
She is very adamant in her decision… That is, until Brittany manages to persuade her to reconsider through unfair (but highly appreciated) methods and that ridiculous pout of hers. Sometimes Santana really, really hates her girlfriend.
The sentiment still rings true in fresh as she drags her feet up the walkway to Brittany's house, scowling and determined to be in a bad mood all night to make Brittany understand her absolute displeasure at the situation. She doesn't even know why it makes sense to babysit Beth at Brittany's house. Why couldn't it be done at Kurt's house? Why are they even babysitting Beth? That thing is the spawn of Quinn and Puck- they should be taking care of it.
She then remembers that Quinn is out of town, and Puck had wanted to name Beth Jackie freaking Daniels once upon a time. She subsequently decides that maybe it's a better idea to keep the pipsqueak away from him. Far away.
Brittany opens the door before Santana can even knock, grinning widely. "Yay! You're here! Come on, Kurt, Blaine, and Beth are in the living room."
"How old is the midget now?" Santana asks, shutting the door behind her when Brittany forgets to.
"Three." Brittany's answer is barely audible as she skips in to the living room. Santana hears Brittany announce Santana's presence as she follows, much more slowly.
There is a loud squeal, and a tiny little brown-haired girl dashes around the corner and promptly attaches herself to Santana's legs. "HI SANTANA! I'M BETH! IT'S NICE TO MEET YOU!"
Santana is thrown for a serious loop. What the hell? "Uh. Hi."
The little girl grins up at her, tiny teeth flashing white. Like a fricken baby Quinn, but with brown hair. It kind of creeps Santana out a little bit. "Kurt told me aaall about you! And Blaine said- he said- he said that you are a boss! What are you a boss at?"
"Everything." Santana deadpans as Blaine trots around the corner, smiling. He leans against the wall and just watches as Beth's eyes grow wide with wonder.
"Everything?" She parrots. Santana feels a twinge. She attributes it to annoyance, because she absolutely does not find children cute.
"Okay, Kiddo, let's leave Satan here to brood." Blaine steps forward and frees Santana's lower legs from the grasp of the tiny, undoubtedly sticky, fingers. He lifts her up and throws her over his shoulder. "We miss you in the living room." He glances over his shoulder and gestures for Santana to follow him.
She rolls her eyes, but follows if only for the sake of teasing Blaine about his height, or his hair, or his school of singing gay kids.
"Hi!" Brittany chirps when they enter the living room. She is fiddling with the DVD player while Kurt watches, transfixed. He has trouble believing Brittany can actually operate the device. "We're about to watch a movie! What do you want to watch?"
"Put Harry Potter in." Santana immediately suggests.
"Nice choice." Blaine whistles appreciatively. "I agree with Santana. Harry Potter."
But Kurt is frowning at them now, looking almost incredulous. "Really?"
"What?" Santana asks defensively. "You got a problem?"
"No, I do admit that I am a fan of Rowling's work, but this is the perfect opportunity to introduce Beth to the wonderful creature that is Johnny Depp." He waves around the case to Pirates of the Caribbean: the Black Pearl, as if to emphasize his point. "To waste this chance would be spitting in the face of all that is beautiful and perfect."
"I like pirates." Brittany comments. "Once I met a man with an eye patch. He asked if I had any booty, so I gave him a quarter."
"Come on, we can watch Harry Potter afterwards." Kurt adds. "I mean, it's not like you guys don't like Pirates, right?"
"That's true." Blaine says with a shrug, and even Santana consents to back down from what she guesses would have been a good (and entertaining) argument in favor of sitting on the couch.
As Brittany curls up next to her and Beth claims a spot on her lap, dread suddenly fills her stomach as she gets the strange sense that should have argued. Oh god, she should have argued. But the movie is starting, and she doesn't even know where the feeling came from, so she shakes it off and watches the movie.
GLEE
"My hair! Ruined!" Kurt wails as he struggles against his restraints. He pauses in his wiggling and casts a scathing glare at Santana. "This is your fault, I hope you realize!"
Santana snarls at him, tugging uselessly at the ropes around her wrists. They are back to back, bound tightly to chairs, as Brittany, Beth, and Blaine dance around them singing that one annoying pirate song from that kid's show with the puppets and the girl with the pink hair. She can't believe Kurt has the audacity to blame her for this.
"Oh yeah," she snarks, "let's blame Santana, this is all Santana's fault, because she totally didn't want to watch Harry Potter or anything! What-the-fuck-ever! You're the one that wanted to watch Pirates of the fucking Caribbean!"
"Language!" Kurt scolds with a meaningful glance at Beth, who is perched on top of Brittany's shoulders and giggling like some sort of madman. "I apologize for wanting to expose Beth to the finesse of Johnny Depp!"
"And your monster of a boyfriend to the idea of plundering and pillaging!" Santana's eyes follow Blaine. He has donned a newspaper pirate hat and is holding a hanger like it's some sort of hook hand.
"Yeah? Well-," Kurt promptly shuts his mouth, because as his eyes travel to Blaine he realizes that he really doesn't have a legitimate argument to that. "Well… well… Well how come Britt can tie such tight knots?" He snaps, latching onto something he can use as ammo, because seriously? He doesn't even know what kind of training Brittany had as a child, but the way she was able to easily bind them to their chairs in a matter of seconds terrifies him.
Santana turns around to look at him, eyes blank. "Hummel, I'm going to spare you your innocence and not answer that question."
Kurt blanches. Lovely. He had so wanted that mental image. "Ugh… how long until Quinn gets back?"
"She's over with her grandparents… we're here all night."
"Fucking shit." Kurt mutters, apparently forgetting that Quinn's three-year-old child is within earshot.
"Well said."
Beth suddenly starts repeating, "Fucking shit!" over and over. She toddles over to Santana and crawls up into her lap. "Momma Coo says you're a bad influence," she takes her time to pronounce that last word carefully. "Does that mean you're a good outfluence?"
"Quinn doesn't know what she's talking about." Santana snaps.
"But Mommy says that Momma Coo is super smart and always right! Momma Coo also says you're a raging bitch." She wrinkles her nose. "What's a bitch?"
"If I tell you, will you untie me?"
Santana regrets asking, because her question causes Beth to suddenly remember that she's a pirate and Santana is a 'helpless poppet.' She jumps off of Santana's lap and starts hollering about treasure and zombie pirates.
Santana hates kids. So, so much.