Hi! This is my first Glee fanfic, partly inspired by the Victorious episode 'Freak The Freak Out', in which two girls lose a bet and are forced to babysit the winner's older sister as a result. Though, of course, Brittany is a grown woman and far more pleasant than Trina. :)

Remember to review!

The knock on his door was like a gunshot.

Blaine sat up in bed, and immediately regretted the decision. His head pounded, his vision was blurry, and there was a strong smell of something sweet filling his bedroom.

Another knock sounded, this one more urgent.

Rubbing his eyes and sighing, Blaine moved to stand up. He still had a headache, and he still couldn't see anything more than five inches in front of him, but he didn't drop to the floor. Fumbling for his glasses, he slid them on his nose and stumbled down the stairs to his front door.

A pretty woman with lots of long, dark hair tied in a thick ponytail stood in his driveway, her hand holding firmly onto another woman's - this one tall and blonde - arm.

"S-Santana?" Blaine muttered sleepily, running a hand through his hair and hoping that, whatever this was about, she would leave quickly. Santana, though, seemed to have other ideas.

"Blainers." she greeted briskly, pushing past him and pulling Brittany after her into the house. Blaine stood staring at his garden for a moment, unsure of what exactly to do next. Finally, he closed the door and followed the two women into the kitchen.

They seemed to have already made themselves comfortable; Santana was perched elegantly on a stool, legs crossed and phone out, while Brittany sat on Blaine's kitchen counter, her own legs swinging, looking around with interest.

"Um, it's not that it isn't nice to see you two again.." Blaine began from the doorway, and the couple looked up at him. To stop feeling awkward under the relentless stare of Santana and Brittany's childlike interest, he put his hands in his pockets and spoke to the middle cabinet instead. "..but I'm a bit busy at the moment."

Santana raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and Brittany giggled.

"You don't look very busy." she said curtly, clicking something on her phone and tucking it into her jacket pocket.

"Your hair looks different.. did you curl it?" Brittany commented from Santana's right. She picked up the nearby toaster and pressed a button on it with mild interest.

"Um, I am, San, and, er, okay, Britt." he was using old nicknames now, hoping they would wish him well and leave him to sleep off his hangover from the previous night. Santana wasn't budging, though.

"Okay, pretty boy, here's the deal: do you remember that party we went to, a few months back? For 'Finchel's anniversary?"

Blaine nodded, noting the disgusted tone in her voice when she used Finn and Rachel's couple name. Santana continued.

"How good are your memories from that night?"

"Not the best, really, Santana." he replied, wondering where this was going. He'd gotten drunk within the first half hour of the party, and his recollections were fuzzy at best. One vague memory he did have involved taking body shots off a pregnant Tina Cohen-Chang, so he was perfectly fine with not remembering all of the gory details.

"Do you remember that bet we made?" Santana asked. The Latina gave him her trademark smirk when she saw his worried expression.

"Santana.." Blaine began, but Brittany interrupted.

"I think I left my bra in Finn and Rachel's freezer. I kinda miss it." Brittany pouted, then looked at her girlfriend for support. "'Tana does too. She said it made my boobs look huge."

"I don't need to know!" Blaine said, covering his ears with his hands to get his point across. Brittany fell silent, but not before exchanging a knowing look with Santana. The amount of knowledge Blaine already had about their sex life made him, as a gay twenty-five year old man, slightly sick. He didn't need to know anymore.

"Anyway, I'd like to trade in my win now, if that's fine with you." Santana said. Her tone made it very clear that she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. Blaine groaned.

"What exactly was the bet?"

"Well," Brittany told him simply, "You got into a fight with Santana, and you said that we - me and 'Tana - wouldn't last, while she said that you and Kurt wouldn't last. You made a bet about who was going to get married first. If it was you, Santana would take you with her to one of her after-parties, but if it was her who got married first, you had to babysit for her for a day.

"Oh, and you have to give her your Dalton Academy tie."

Santana smiled over at her, and Blaine made a mental note never to give the blonde sugar.

"And you're telling me this because..?" Blaine asked, and Brittany broke out into a wide grin.

"We're getting married!" she said excitedly, jumping down from her place on the counter and shoving Santana's left hand under his nose. There, on her forth finger, sat a big, sparkly ring.

"Wow." Blaine said, taking in the extreme size of the engagement ring. It was so Brittany-like that he was surprised that it was Brittany that had given Santana the ring, and not the other way around.

"Aren't you going to say 'congratulations'?" Santana asked, pulling her hand out of Blaine's view but keeping it firmly interlocked with her fiancée's pale, freckly one.

"Oh, of course, yeah! Congrats, girls. I'm really pleased for you two. You're going to have a great life together."

"I hope so," Santana said, "Because that's why we're here. I've won the bet."

"B-but you aren't married yet!" he exclaimed, wondering what Santana had planned. She was enjoying this too much for it to be something nice and easy.

"No, but we will be in exactly two hundred and twenty days." the Latina pointed out. "And, besides, there aren't rules about when you're allowed to collect your prize for winning the bet."

Blaine sighed.

"Fine, fine. Who do you want me to babysit?"

"That's the best part. I need you to look after Britt for the day."

Blaine looked at Brittany, who gave him a little wave with her free hand.

"Santana, Brittany's an adult. And your future wife."

"I know. I have seen her naked, you know." Santana gave him a little wink, and Blaine fought an urge to just walk away. "But she's been looking forward to spending some time with you."

"We haven't talked properly since Glee." Brittany added.

"So? Are you in?" Santana asked, raising her eyebrow again.

"Um, I guess?" he said. Brittany gave him a big grin from her place on the counter.

"Can I try on one of your bow ties?" she asked. Santana smiled in amusement at her fiancée.

"Great. I'll see you two at seven." Santana pulled her phone out again, and left the room. Blaine followed her out.

"What are you doing?" he demanded when she opened the door to leave. Santana turned around and looked at him (or rather, looked down: in her stilettos she was a full five inches taller than him).

"Look, I'm meant to be on set in fifteen minutes. Just.. have fun with Britt, okay?"

Blaine went to argue, but, seeing the expression on Santana's features, he closed his mouth and simply nodded.

"Wonderful." she smiled, typing something into the phone with quick fingers. Brittany came out of the kitchen then, and stood next to her much-shorter male friend smiling like a child at Christmas. Blaine immediately regretted not making the most of the time when the two were sitting down. He knew he wasn't very tall, but this was just strange.

"Bye!" Santana called, leaning over to give Brittany a kiss before walking quickly out of the house and out to the Aston Martin he saw parked just outside his door. Blaine watched her leave, heels clicking on the tarmac, and waited until the car had sped around the corner before turning to the girl he was now in charge of.

"So, um.. what do you want to do first?"

Blaine had never been particularly close with the ex-Cheerio - at least, not on the same terms he had been on with others like Kurt - but he knew exactly what she had been like at McKinley. He didn't have high hopes that she greatly increased her intelligence in the seven years since he had been her classmate. Rubbing the space between his eyebrows, he tried desperately to think of a reason to go to bed.

"Um.." Brittany said, looking around his hallway with interest. She suddenly seemed to get an idea. "Do you have any games?"

"Yeah, I guess." Blaine shrugged.

"Do you have tic-tac-toe?"

Blaine smiled. That one was easy.

"Sure. Come here." he said, gesturing for Brittany to follow him into the living room. Blaine quickly realised that letting her into the room wasn't a good idea when he noticed the mess he had made of it last night. Various books had been knocked off the book shelf, empty bottles were scattered around the room, and a vase lay shattered on the floor. Brittany immediately went to the broken glass, picking up a piece of it between her first and middle fingers. She gave him a shocked look when she saw him watching her.

"Blaine! How could you do this?" she demanded, her eyes shimmering with tears. The ex-Warbler didn't know what to do, or exactly what he had done.

"It's only a vase, Britt. I can just get it fix-"

"No, it's not only a vase! It's a soul's home!"

"What?" Blaine asked, confused. Brittany bent down, and began to gently pick up the pieces, obviously not listening to him. Blaine crossed the room and put his hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked, a little more kindly.

"Well, I was telling Santana about how, when I die, I'm going to be super lonely in Heaven without her, so I wanted us to die at the same time. But she told me that souls go to live in vases on the mantlepiece before they go to Heaven, so they can wait for their friends to die too. Then they won't be lonely, and they can all go up and live together and be happy." she said, carefully placing the broken pieces in one corner of the room.

Blaine didn't know what to make of this. He was torn between feeling sorry for his drunken carelessness and feeling an immense amount of love for the blonde.

"Listen, Britt," he murmured to her, rubbing her back, "I'm sure the souls will be okay. They're just going to Heaven a little earlier than expected, that's all."

"Will they be okay with you?" Brittany questioned. Blaine gave her a smile.

"I'm sure they will be."

Brittany dragged her eyes away from the smashed glass, and looked at her friend.

"Can we play tic-tac-toe now?"

After twenty-six games of tic-tac-toe - which Brittany, surprisingly, won eighteen of - Blaine was throughly exhausted. His hangover was even worse, and his search for aspirin in his bathroom cabinets had turned up empty. Blaine had, however, had the pleasure of hearing what Santana liked to do to Brittany in the shower. After making Brittany swear not to tell him any more about their sex life - which she only half-heartedly did - he decided that it was time for a nap. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to notice any of his subtle hints.

Brittany had discovered Blaine's collection of video games - most of which belonged to an ex-boyfriend who had never asked for them back - and was eager to play an old copy of a dance game he vaguely remembered from a few years back. As she clicked on a Britney Spears playlist, Blaine knew he wasn't going to enjoy the next few minutes.

Sure enough, only halfway through Toxic, he was throughly exhausted.

"Can we stop now?" Blaine wheezed as they completed Baby One More Time. Brittany paused the game and pouted.

"Blaine Warbler, this is good for you. I do harder routines with my beginners class at the studio. Don't crush my energy. Do you want to try I Wanna Go or I'm A Slave 4 U next?"

Three songs later, he was ready to pass out. Muttering something about an injured leg, he managed to persuade the blonde that he needed a nap to 'recover'.

"I'm only going to sleep for an hour," he'd told her, while she nodded, "So I'll be awake again in no time. If there's an emergency, you can wake me, but if there isn't, try not too."

Brittany had nodded along with all of that, announcing that she was going to watch TV until he woke up. He showed her how to work the DVD player with surprising success, before bidding her goodnight and leaving for his bed.

His head hit the fluffy pillow and he was asleep in seconds, promising God, Allah and Buddha that he would never drink again if he could just get rid of his terrible and reoccurring headache.

After what felt like minutes, Blaine was awoken by a figure moving around his room.

"W-wh-Brittany?" he asked weakly.

"I was hungry, so I tried making food," her voice came from the other side of the room, "But I don't think I did it right. Can you help?"

Blaine swore under his breath, before dragging himself out of bed for a second time and following the blonde downstairs and into the kitchen.

His entire work surface was covered in sticky, red sauce, while random, half-chopped vegetables lay forgotten on the floor, their colours disfigured by a coating of flour.

"I find recipes confusing." Brittany offered in explanation for the mess, and Blaine simply shook his head.

"What were you trying to make?" he questioned, running a hand through his hair.

"Pizza." Brittany said. "But I don't think I did it right. That's why Santana left me with you. She was annoyed at me always making a mess of our kitchen. Can you fix it?"

Blaine went to say something, but it just came out as a laugh. Brittany looked confused.

"Don't worry about it, Britt." he told her. "Can we fix it? Yes, we can."

And so he began to clear up the mess, but not before he heard her say;

"I thought that was Bob The Builder's catchphrase."

After fifteen minutes of tidying, Blaine was ready to teach Brittany how to bake a pizza. He began with making the dough, which didn't turn out as successfully as Blaine had planned it too. Somehow, in the process, both of them had become covered in flour.

"This doesn't taste like snow." Brittany told him, licking her hand as Blaine attempted to get white powder out of his tight curls. The blonde looked over at him as he ran his fingers through his hair, and smiled. "I told you gel was bad."

"Do you want to see my afro?" he questioned, smiling at the same time.

"Sure." the blonde said. Blaine wasn't sure if she was kidding or not, so he chose to simply ignore the comment and continue with the pizza making. Kneading the dough into a vaguely circular shape and denouncing it as a lost cause, he picked up a nearby jar of tomato sauce and unscrewed the lid in one fluid movement. He spread the sauce over the pizza in a thick layer with a comically over-large spoon, trying to cover their disastrous job of making the dough. and lost himself in the swirling patterns made by the red.

"Did you steal that spoon from a giant?" a voice - suddenly loud in the relative quiet - asked from behind him, making him jump and spin around, splattering Brittany with red chunks of tomato. She looked down slowly, took in her scarlet spotted apron, before moving with surprising swiftness to pour the remaining sauce from the jar over Blaine's head. As he touched his head to see what damage had been done, he heard Brittany laughing.

"Oh, no, you don't." he chuckled, picking up half an onion and flinging it at her. The blonde ducked behind the work surface to avoid the onion, but Blaine was ready when she emerged, and the other half hit her in the forehead. Brittany glared at him, but bent down to grab the onion and hurl it back at the smaller man.

"I win!" she said gleefully as the onion hit Blaine's shoulder. He looked around quickly, with Brittany mirroring his movements, and began to arm himself with various food items from around the kitchen. As he scraped roughly chopped pepper from the chopping board, he felt a slice of pepperoni hit him in the eye.

"I'm going to win." he announced, throwing a few pieces of pepper at Brittany, who pulled a chair out from under the table and hid behind it.

They continued their food fight for what felt like seconds but was obviously a lot longer. Towards the end of it, they were not only covered in flour and sauce: Blaine had pepperoni slices and sticky, half-melted cheese stuck to his pyjamas, while the unfinished pizza was tangled in Brittany's long hair. They were both laughing wildly, using spoons and bowls as devices to launch the few remaining food items not glued to their bodies or covering the work surfaces and cupboards. It was so noisy, and they were so into the game, that the two didn't immediately hear the knock on the door. After two or three, however, the knocks were loud enough to be heard over their fighting. Pulling a stray piece of tomato out of his eyebrow, Blaine walked slowly over to the door, stealthily avoiding the mirror hung in the hallway.

"I'll be there in a second!" he called as the knocks became more frequent and more urgent. Blaine swung the door open. "Hello?"

Santana looked up from the phone, and her eyes widened as she took in Blaine's appearance.

"Having fun?" she asked, inviting herself into his house for the second time that day.

"San, you're early." he pointed out, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"It's seven, Blainers. Did you and Britt have a nice day?"

The blonde wandered out of the kitchen at almost exactly the same time as her fiancée said her name, and Blaine could see almost see the cogs in Santana's brain moving, trying to work out why the two were covered in food.

"Hi, Santana!" Brittany said brightly. "Do you like my new look?"

The Latina looked from Blaine to Brittany and back again, before bursting out laughing.

"You look lovely, Britt. Delicious." she giggled, wiping away an actual tear from her eye. Brittany smiled.

"Should we go?"

Santana looked as though she wanted to say something more, but stopped herself at the last second.

"Yeah, we better go." she said, a small smile still gracing her lips. "Thanks, Blainers. I can see you and Britt had - for lack of a better word - an amusing time."

"We definitely did." Blaine agreed. Brittany took Santana's hand as he showed them out, before turning away to look at him as they got halfway down the driveway.

"Wait." she said simply, and Santana stopped. "What about the tie?"

"Oh, right. Pay up, Blainers." the Latina called to him. Blaine didn't know why they would want his tie, but he went to find it at their request. He returned after a few minutes of searching, in which he finally found the blue-and-red tie stuffed between his old Dalton yearbooks and a neatly folded pair of boxers that didn't belong to him or anyone he remembered sleeping with in the last five years.

"Here you go." he said as he passed the tie over to the waiting couple. "Do I want to know what you going to do with it?"

"Santana's going to tie me up and-"

Blaine closed the door quickly, but not before he heard Santana call;

"We'll send you a copy of the tape."