A/N: Repost of Brittana Week Day 3: Movies or TV (Crossover).

A reminder of the setting - in Friends, after the Ugly Naked Guy moved out, imagine Santana and Brittany moved into the apartment instead of Ross. This fic will be told from the Friends characters points of view.

If you'd like to familiarise yourself with the episode, it's episode 14 from season 5 :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor do I own Friends :(

Brittana & Friends

Monica and Chandler were making out on the couch in Monica and Rachel's apartment when the door burst open. Monica pushed Chandler onto the floor and sat up.

"Ross! Hi! What are you doing here?"

"Wallowing in self-pity."

"Um, why? Oh! We totally saw having naked tea with Ugly Naked Guy."

"It didn't make a difference, did it?" Ross whined. "He sublet the apartment to two girls!"

"What?" Monica asked in surprise. "I thought you had it in the bag."

"Yeah, so did I. Apparently they had a really cute story about making it in the big city. And something about razor blades."

"Aw, I'm sorry," Monica said with a sympathetic pout. "I'm sure you'll find something."

"Yeah, me too." He frowned at something just behind her. "Chandler, what you doing?"

Chandler jumped up. "Who me? Why, just enjoying the luxurious feel of Monica and Rachel's rug. It's…really soft."

Monica rolled her eyes.

"Oh, ok," Ross replied, oblivious. "Hey, Mon, you got a beer? I just feel really bummed out."

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Ross turned into the kitchen and Monica leaned over the table and smacked Chandler on the shoulder.

Ow! he mouthed.

"So what have you guys got planned for tonight?" Ross asked.

"Laundry," Chandler said immediately.

"Wow, you guys like doing laundry."

"Yes. Yes, we do," Chandler confirmed.

"So we're going to do that," Monica said, edging towards the door. "Right now. Bye!"

And then they were gone.

"Weird," Ross mumbled, sitting on the sofa. He pulled something uncomfortable that was digging into his back and frowned at a bra. "And Monica says I'm messy."

Not two minutes later, Rachel and Phoebe walked in.

"Hey, Ross!" they chorused.

"Hey," he said with a mournful sigh.

"Uh oh," Rachel said, sitting down next to him. "What happened, honey?"

"I didn't get the Ugly Naked apartment."

"Sorry, Ross," Rachel said comfortingly.

"I could totally kill the person who got it," Phoebe said seriously. "I know people."

"Thanks, Pheebs, but it's ok. I guess it wasn't meant to be."

"So, who got it?" Rachel asked.

"Two girls."

"Oh, there are two girls getting the keys now," Phoebe said from the window. "That must be them."

The other two rushed to the window and sure enough, there were two young girls, a blonde and brunette, who were waving goodbye to Ugly Naked Guy who, for the first time in their viewing history, was wearing clothes.

"They're so young," Rachel mused.

"Yeah, Ugly Naked Guy said that they'd just moved here. Maybe they just finished college."

"Ugh, I remember being that young," Rachel commented with a scrunched nose.

"Whoa!" All three said suddenly.

The two girls had started making out ferociously.

"Lesbians!" Ross squeaked.

"I was a lesbian once," Phoebe stated.

"Oh."

"Jeez."

"Wow."

"Did she-"

"How does she-"

"Oh, that's how."

"I don't think that wall is strong enough."

"Oh, reversal."

"I bet the brunette's the dominant one."

"No way. The blonde totally has her in the palm of her hand."

"Literally."

"I feel like I should stop watching."

"But they're so hot."

"I feel a little lesbian just watching this."

"It's ok, Rachel. Everyone feels the urge to experiment at some stage."

Rachel glared at Phoebe, who shrugged. She turned back to the apartment across the street. "Holy crap, I think the brunette just saw us,"

She had. She sent them a little smirk before burying her face in her blonde companion's neck.

"Oh, yeah. She definitely saw us," Phoebe confirmed.

Ross had dropped onto the ground as soon as Rachel had spoken.

"What are you doing?"

"You said they saw us!"

"And that means stop, drop and roll?"

"I panicked."

"Clearly."

"We should have them over for dinner," Phoebe suggested.

Rachel and Ross stared at her.

"What?" she asked. "They seem like cool girls. Anyone that looks as hot as I do having sex should be our friends."

"But they're like, ten years younger than us," Rachel argued.

"So? Age is just a number. My twin sister, Ursula, is thirty-nine, but looks the same age as me."

Rachel and Ross were quiet as they tried to dissect what Phoebe had said. Joey walked through the door in a huff, mumbling something about laundry.

"Joey, Joey!" Rachel said excitedly. "Guess what?"

"I hereby ban laundry from being done in our apartment," he said firmly.

Ross frowned. "But you never do laundry, Joey."

"Yeah, well, until recently," he huffed.

"Joey! Ugly Naked Guy sublet his apartment."

"Hey, congrats, Ross! I've started working on those tin can phones."

"No, Ross didn't get it."

"Oh. Sorry, man. Who got it, then?"

Rachel and Phoebe guided him to the window and he promptly fainted.

"Oh, we're so inviting them over," Phoebe said, clapping her hands.

"You do it!" Phoebe hissed, pushing Ross towards the door.

"Why?" Ross said in a high voice. "I don't do well under pressure."

Ross, Phoebe, Rachel and Joey were standing in the hallway outside Ugly Naked Guy's apartment. Or rather, Hot Naked Chicks' apartment.

"Because you were going to get the apartment and you're offering them a congratulatory dinner because they beat you."

Ross looked at Phoebe pointedly. Joey, with the biggest grin on his face, walked up to the door and knocked eagerly. After a few moments, it was opened by the blonde. She smiled curiously.

"Hi," she said slowly.

"Who is it, babe?" a voice came from inside.

"The people from the apartment across the street," the blonde replied with a friendly smile. She leaned against the doorway.

The brunette appeared next to her and smirked at the four friends.

"Hi, I'm Joey," he said, holding out his hand. "How you doin'?"

The brunette chuckled. "We're fabulous, Gramps. What do you want?"

"San, be nice."

"Why? They're only over here because they saw us having sex."

"How could they have seen our sex tape already?" the blonde asked with a pout.

Joey's mouth dropped open.

"Britt, you're scaring Gramps. They saw us having welcome-to-the-apartment sex yesterday. Seriously, guys. What do you want? Free shows are not on the table."

"Um, we were wondering if you'd like to come over to our place for dinner?" Ross stumbled out, his voice squeaking. "Well, technically to my sister's apartment."

The brunette raised an eyebrow. "You look a little old for your balls not have dropped yet."

The blonde wrapped an arm around the brunette's waist and whispered something in her ear. The brunette visibly relaxed and let out a sigh.

"Fine. I'm assuming this is a friendly thing and not some senior citizen's convention where we act like your super hot grandkids?"

"Now hang on, we're not that old," Rachel cut in.

"Sure. That hairstyle's circa, what? 1999?"

"You totally look like Ms. Holliday," the blonde said, peering at Phoebe. "Did you follow us to New York?"

"Uh, no," Phoebe replied with a frown.

"Oh, that sucks. She was the coolest teacher ever."

"So, are we on?" Ross asked, his voice a little more normal.

"You totally sound like that giraffe from Madagascar," the blonde said, with her eyes wide.

"What's that?' Ross asked in confusion.

"Clearly something your prehistoric brain has trouble computing.," the brunette sniped. "Britt, are you sure about this?"

"Yeah!" the blonde said with a big smile. "We need new friends."

"True." The brunette sighed. "Our existing ones are…stale."

"Ok, so when would work for you?"

"Tonight?" the brunette suggested.

"Yeah!" Joey said enthusiastically.

"Cool. See you in a few hours."

The door was slammed in their faces and they all looked at each other.

"This is going to be the best dinner ever!" Joey said excitedly.

"Wait, what do you mean you invited them over?" Monica asked with a frown, hand firmly placed on her hip.

"Please say yes, Monica?" Joey begged, going so far as to drop to one knee in front of her.

"Why?"

Joey looked at her for a moment before turning to Chandler. "Please make her say yes, Chandler. Please, please, please!"

"Why is it so important that these girls come over for dinner anyway?"

"One word," Joey said. "Lesbians."

Chandler's eyebrows went up. "You know, Monica, it wouldn't hurt to expand our social circle a little."

She glared at him. "Oh, really?"

Phoebe and Rachel giggled from the couch.

"Seriously? You guys are fine with this?"

"I was a lesbian once. And I think the blonde believes I'm her long lost teacher."

"I just want to see the brunette start a fight with Monica," Rachel whispered to Phoebe.

"Well, what are their names?" Monica asked.

"The blonde and the brunette."

"Joey, those aren't even names."

"Well, we didn't get their names," Ross said apologetically.

"Is that them?" Chandler asked from the window.

The other five rushed to join him.

"Yeah, that's them," Rachel confirmed.

"They're a major improvement on Ugly Naked Guy," Chandler mused. He received an elbow in the ribs from Monica, who was next to him. "Of course, that's only because they're wearing clothes."

"They weren't yesterday," Joey said gleefully.

"You saw them having sex?" Chandler gasped. Another elbow. "That's terrible! Just terrible!"

The blonde glanced out the window and saw them. She smiled and waved.

"Well, she seems nice," Monica commented.

"Oh, she's lovely," Rachel said. "It's the other one you have to watch out for."

Right on cue, the brunette arrived behind the blonde, her hand possessively wrapping around her waist. She sarcastically blew them a kiss before pulling the blonde into their bedroom.

"Well," Monica said.

"Please, Monica? Please, please, please?" Joey begged, falling to his knees again and hugging her leg.

"Oh, God, get off me, Joey! Fine, yes, we'll have them over for dinner."

They watched as Joey did a really weird happy dance around the living room.

There was barely a knock on the door before Joey pulled it open enthusiastically.

"Easy there, Gramps," the brunette said with a smirk. "Don't wanna get too excited."

"How you doin'?" he replied suavely.

"Why's he speaking like that?" the blonde whispered to the brunette.

"Because he thinks that he's gonna somehow score a threesome," she replied.

"Ew," the blonde said, wrinkling her nose.

Joey's smirk dropped. The brunette brushed past him and walked into the apartment, pulling the blonde behind her.

"Nice place," she commented.

"Thanks," Monica replied with a welcoming smile. "I'm Monica Gellar."

"Right, Melman's sister," the brunette said with a nod. "I'm Santana. And this beautiful girl is Brittany."

Melman? Chandler mouthed in confusion.

"Would you girls like something to drink?" Monica offered, flexing her hand after Brittany's enthusiastic handshake.

"Yeah, sure," Santana replied. "Sup, ladies."

"Santana, right?" Rachel asked.

She nodded with a raised brow.

"I couldn't help but notice your exquisite taste in clothes. Where did you get that dress?"

"My friend made it. He's a total whiz with designing clothes. He interned at Vogue when he first got here and it kinda took off for him."

"You look super sexy," Brittany said, grabbing her ass.

"Thanks, baby. Watch your hands, though. You'll get to use them later."

"So, what, do you two have sex all the time?" Chandler asked. He clamped his hand over his mouth in horror.

Santana smirked. "Mostly."

Joey whimpered from where he was positioned by the door.

"Drinks for everyone!" Monica announced loudly, trying to steer the conversation away from the two hot lesbians having sex.

"I'm Phoebe, by the way."

"Oh," Brittany said in disappointment.

"And I'm Rachel."

"Hold up. How did we land up with two Rachels in New York?" Santana asked. "Riddle me this, Jen Aniston wannabe. Do you sing show tunes at godawful hours and at earsplitting volume to the point where someone, I shall not be named, is forced to smother you with a pillow?"

Rachel's mouth dropped open.

"I don't think she's the same Rachel, San," Brittany said.

"She also can't sing," Phoebe added. "But I can."

"You do?" Brittany squealed in delight, moving to sit down next to her. "What's your best hit?"

"Well, I don't like to brag, but Smelly Cat is pretty big. Especially in Iceland and Mozambique."

"San! Oh my God! You're Phoebe Buffay!"

"Yes! That's me! You know who I am?"

"Smelly Cat is totally my number one song. I loved My Headband for like, the longest time, but then when I was searching for inspiration for my Fondue For Two show, I found your YouTube video and your music just spoke to me. Like, I could really feel what you were saying."

"Oh, this is so exciting!" Phoebe said. "I've never met a fan before!"

"I'm like your biggest fan. I even dressed Lord Tubbington up as Smelly Cat last Halloween. I don't think he appreciates artistic expression like I do, though."

"Britts, you should totally tell her about your number one hit," Santana said with a proud smile.

"You sing too?" Ross asked, sitting on the other side of Brittany. It was the first time he'd spoken.

"Well, Santana's a way better singer than me, but I can sorta. I dance mostly. But we were in glee club in high school and I wrote a song called My Cup for Nationals junior year."

"You write a song about a cup?" Chandler asked slowly, raising his eyebrows.

"It was the best damn song ever written, Slick," Santana snapped.

"Of course. Because, you know, it's about a cup."

"San, ignore Mr. Grouchy," Brittany said from the couch. "Come and sit with me. Phoebe and Ross are fun."

"I'll bet."

"I wonder how long they've been together?" Monica murmured to Rachel in the kitchen as they readied dinner.

"Probably not long. Santana seems like a total control freak and Brittany's such a sweetheart with a heart of gold," Rachel said with a smile. "Did you hear she called me a Jen Aniston wannabe? What does that even mean?"

Monica shrugged. "She also called Ross Melman. At least her insults are creative. Even if no one really understands them."

"At least Phoebe and Brittany seem to be hitting it off," Rachel mused.

"I feel like I'm looking back six years and seeing Phoebe," Monica chuckled. "They could be related."

They both looked up as Brittany started singing and dancing. They frowned at the lyrics. Was she really singing about a cup?

As the song came to an end, Chandler's mouth was pretty much hanging on the floor. He hurried to the kitchen and grabbed Monica's arm. "Please tell me you just heard what I heard."

"A song about a cup that was actually something decidedly more sexual?" Santana said as she joined them.

"Uh, yeah!" Chandler said.

Santana grinned. "She wanted to write me a song because she wanted to tell me how she felt."

"Wait, she said she wrote that in junior year of high school," Rachel said.

"Yup," Santana replied, taking a long sip of her beer.

"I'm assuming you guys are out of college, right?"

"Yeah, we're both twenty-two."

"Wow. So you guys have been together for-"

"Officially, four years, seven months and thirteen days. Unofficially, since we were thirteen."

"That's longer than Ross was married," Chandler said with an impressed look.

"Wait, Melman was married? What happened?"

"Um, his wife decided that she was a lesbian," Monica mumbled.

Santana arched an eyebrow. "You don't decide to be a lesbian. Mrs. Melman was probably always into ladies, but just didn't have the guts to admit it to herself."

"You seem to be pretty confident about that," Rachel commented.

"Yeah, well, I've had my fair share of denial about myself." She turned and looked at Brittany. "All it does is end up hurting the people you love."

"So you aren't a bitch all the time, then?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, I am. But I like to think of it as brutal honesty. Plus, I am quite possibly the most judgemental person you'll ever meet."

"So what's your opinion of me?" Rachel asked with interest.

Santana looked at her for a moment. "You didn't decide to come here, to New York. That wasn't in the cards, so to speak. You ran away from something. Most likely a wedding to a doctor or dentist that Daddy approved of. Once you realised that you wanted to make something of your own life yourself – kudos, by the way – you ended up here, probably because you know someone in this misfit group from way back."

"Well, that's just scarily accurate," Monica said with a laugh.

"You're a chef," Santana stated, angling her bottle towards her. "It's a profession that affords you control, which you like because you're a total control freak."

"How do you do that?" Chandler asked in awe.

Santana smiled. "Easy. It's called being perceptive. This kitchen is organised like a frigging army medical tent. And yes, I have seen one. Plus, a trained nose, which I possess, knows that you've used at least four different spices in that stew."

"Five actually," Monica replied.

Santana lifted a shoulder.

"Ok, what about Joey?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, please. At least challenge me. Give Gramps a decent collection of porn and a bucket of chicken and he'll be set for a week."

"It's like she's been watching us on some TV show," Chandler mused.

"As for you, Slick. Much like myself, you make up for your insecurities with humour. Me? I use the much more creative outlet of vicious insults. Tell me, do your friends find you funny?"

"Sometimes. Most of the time I hear a whole lot of pre-rehearsed voices laughing in my head, though," Chandler replied.

"Ah. It's ok. All of us need validation in different ways. I'm sure MasterChef here validates you in the bedroom considering you guys have sex almost as much as me and Britt. A staggering feat. I applaud you."

"How did you know?" Monica hissed.

"Oh, please. You think you're the only people who see others having sex?"

"That's true," Rachel admitted. "Phoebe found out because we were checking out Ugly Naked Guy's apartment and saw you guys."

"Wait, you guys are trying to have secret sex?" Santana asked with a smirk.

"Well, pretty much everyone knows now," Chandler said with a sigh.

"Who's the last egg to hatch?" Santana asked. "Wait! Melman, right?"

"Right. Hey, what's up with that nickname anyway?" Monica asked.

"You guys have never seen Madagascar?"

"Is that a movie?"

"Yup. My Britt-Britt loves her some animation so we have quite a collection built up. You guys should come over one day. You'll see what I mean."

"Did we just score a second date?" Chandler asked with a smile.

"Ease up there, Slick. You've got your woman and I've got mine. And I don't share."

"Well, neither do I," Chandler replied.

"Chandler!" Monica said adoringly, sending him a sparkling smile.

"Ok, before you two start sucking each other's faces off, I'm get head over in that direction." She pointed behind her and spun around. "Fun chat, guys."

"Well, she's definitely not what I expected," Monica eventually said.

"Nope. But she's pretty cool. Maybe she'll finally get my humour."

"Oh, honey. You're not actually funny," Monica replied.

"Well, the live studio audience in my head disagrees with you. I'm going to sit over there with cool kids."

When Santana climbed into bed later that night, Brittany cuddled to her immediately.

"I like our new friends, San."

"Yeah, they're ok. A little older than our usual crowd."

"But that just means that you get to make fun of their age forever. Cos they'll always be way older than us."

Santana chuckled. "You're a genius, Britt."

"Hmmm." Brittany snuggled closer. "I think that they're really nice."

"Yeah, they're not unbearable," Santana murmured. "I think Phoebe thinks that you're her long lost daughter or something."

"I couldn't be, right?" Brittany asked in alarm.

"No, babe. Don't forget the time your parents made you watch your own birthing video. I'm pretty sure that's proof enough that your mom popped you out."

"Ok, good," Brittany said with relief.

"Get some sleep, baby. You've got that rehearsal for Single Ladies in the morning."

"Yeah, I hope it doesn't take that long. I'm only teaching a guy and a girl the dance for some show."

"An otherwise lame show that will simply be brightened with your awesome dancing."

"Love you."

"Love you, Britt."

As they drifted off to sleep, Brittany started humming I'll Be There For You by the Rembrandts.

"What you singing, baby?" Santana mumbled sleepily.

"Dunno. Just got stuck in my head as we walked to their apartment earlier."