What if Santana did sing 'Songbird' to Brittany in front of the Glee Club? With a little help from Rachel Berry for the extra details.
"God, Brittany, why are you so stupid?"
Wheels, Santana growls internally. She watches the 'cripple' in front of Brittany as he says those words that spark so much anger and bitterness inside her. In that moment, Santana feels like she's just been slapped in the face, very hard.
As she watches Brittany tear up, those beautiful pools of blue liquid full of hurt and disbelief, Santana feels her heart break. She tenderly shifts her hands to the smooth flesh of her chest where she feels her heart beating erratically. The Latina leans back against her locker, her milky brown eyes trailing the back of Brittany's slumped and heaving shoulders.
No-one understands Britt like I do. No-one can make her smile like I do. No-one has the patience needed when being in the presence of Britt. God, I'm so unbelievably slow! Don't worry B, I'll come for you. Just not now 'cause I gotta make this special for you, it's the least I can do right now.
Santana turns to face her locker, opening it and re-applying a thin layer of her Apricot lip-gloss, knowing its Brittany's favorite flavor. Not that I'm gonna try and get ma mack on. Not yet anyway.
The Latina re-caps her lip-gloss, throwing it into her make-up bag. A flash of blue catches her eye and she turns to the door of her locker, her brown orbs landing on a large picture of Brittany and herself in their Lady Gaga outfits, minus Brittany's huge claws over her eyes. The both of them sitting on the edge of the auditorium stage, smiling at the camera phone awkwardly placed in the Latina's hand.
Santana smiles gently, running her right hand over the picture. She sighs, after hearing the bell ringing signaling the start of lunch period, slamming her locker door shut with a determined expression she narrows her eyes as they scan the hallway for her target.
The squeak of penny loafers on the polished floor catches her attention and she's power walking towards the sound. Spotting the petite diva just about to turn the corner, she calls out, "Berry!"
The diva, hearing her name shouted in the familiar tone of Santana on a mission, cuts off her steps, hesitantly turning on the spot to meet the Latina closer to her own body than she expected.
"Santana what a surprise to…"
Rachel is cut off by the pressure of the taller brunette's hand on her upper arm. Before Rachel can question the intent behind the forceful hold on her, Santana drags her into an empty classroom, turning the lock the door after kicking it shut.
The diva shakes her arm free, "Santana! What on earth has gotten into you? I'll have you know that I highly resent being pulled against my will into any situation which I have not prepared for before-hand, without knowing the possible outcomes of said situations which could result in injury or death on my part…"
The Latina still standing by the door loses her patience, "Can it Man-hands. God! Could you not speak in monologues for once?" The Latina slowly closes the space between them, "Don't make me regret asking for your help, 'cause I sure don't mind letting out some frustration up on yo freakishly huge nose!"
Rachel snaps her mouth closed, Santana notices the tiny diva tensing her body before she crosses her arms over her chest in a sign of defiance, "Well if what you say is true and you do need my help, I expect you to be a least the slightest bit civil towards me. After all Santana, when does doing anything with you not involve trouble? I for one do not want to find myself expelled or worse in a detention."
That last sentence made no sense what-so-ever. Santana intimidatingly squints her eyes, stepping closer to the diva, placing her hands on the door either side of Rachel's head and trapping her against it. "Listen Hobbit, you either willingly help me, or I'll dig up some dirt on you and expose you to the whole school, you'll be even more of a social reject than you are now. So, what's it going to be?"
Rachel raises her eyebrow.
"I'd be delighted to help with your endeavors for Brittany's heart Santana!" A gleeful Rachel jumps on the spot, her shrill exclamation, echoing around them in the empty classroom.
The nervous Ex-Cheerio glances forward and out into the hallway from the door window, to spot out any other students of McKinley spying on her very private conversation with the tiny diva. One reason for her nervous state was that she thought Rachel was going to not be able to keep this a secret and her innermost feelings will spreading across the halls of WMHS faster than the news of Quinn being pregnant.
When making her thoughts apparent to Rachel just minutes earlier, the tiny girl replied with a sentence to shock the Latina into a three second stunned silence, 'Not that it isn't blatantly obvious that you have intimate feelings for Brittany. It most likely wouldn't be a surprise for the student body of this school if you came out as gay for Brittany.'
She rolls her eyes at Rachel and then narrows them, trying to fight past the butterflies inside her stomach, and put up her bitchy façade, "Listen Manhands don't go screaming that! My feelings for Britts will be known by people in glee club and only people in glee club. The rest of Ohio doesn't need to hear about it!"
The diva doesn't even flinch, instead she starts to walk past Santana in the direction of the choir room, "Walk with me Santana. I've already created a mental list of a few songs that will A) express your feelings for Brittany and B) coincide with this week's assignment."
The Latina follows reluctantly after Rachel, who is a few strides away, swinging her backpack over her left shoulder and moving towards the diva. Santana was starting to regret asking the tiny singers help, but she needed to tell Brittany how she was feeling, in a way that it also meant she came out to the rest of the club.
She was somewhat apprehensive about her coming out, but it's what Brittany wanted, she wanted to be open with Santana and show off the fact that her best friend loved her. The Latina wanted that also, to be able to walk down the halls of McKinley proudly holding her hand. 'And what Britts wants, Britts gets.'
"Are you actually going to let me pick the song, or are you gonna be all controlling and demanding?" The Latina remarked, "'Cause if you do imma hav ta get all Lima Heights up on your ass!"
"There is no need for threats Santana, and the poor misuse of the English language, not to mention the horrendous grammar. Though to ease your mind and save my life, there will be equal input, and the option to veto a song."
"I get three veto's."
The diva screws her eyebrows, "Fine. Though I am sure that once you hear my first suggestion, there will be no need for you to veto."
"Sure, whatever. Lay your freakish listing skills on me!"
Santana 'badass' Lopez walked nervously into the choir room, hands clasped behind her back and biting her lip fiercely. As usual she was late and the last one entering the room. What she noticed however was Brittany sitting away from Artie and Rachel bouncing like a hobbit on Red Bull in her seat, eyes wide and grinning like an idiot.
For one brief moment, Santana made eye contact with the beautiful, tall blonde. Her gorgeous baby blues had a red tint around the edges of her irises and the Latina was filled with anger at the wheelchair bound transformer that had hurt her girl.
Wow, my girl. It sounds so…right. It sounds natural.
Mr. Shue ignores her late entrance; as with Santana it was a common habit. Santana however, was having none of that. So with her familiar and trademark smirk on her face, she stalked into the middle of the room, standing in front of Mr. Shue, effectively blocking him from the clubs view…well the lower half of him, the Latina wasn't that tall.
"Mr. Shue, I appreciate your need to say something motivational at the beginning of all these meetings, but let's just cut to the chase shall we?"
She didn't give him time to reply, "Excellent!"
Suddenly for the second time in a ten minute period, the confidence was drained out of Santana and a shy smile or grimace as the club saw it was on her lip-gloss covered lips.
"This morning I saw something that really upset me. I don't get upset very often," she says, ignoring the quiet reply of 'only when your drunk' from Quinn.
Feeling everyone's eyes staring holes into her back, she walks slowly over to Brittany, gathering the dancers hands in her own, she looks intently into her baby blues, "I know that you were hurt this morning and I made it my mission to find and do something that will make you a happy ducky again."
She steps back, pulling Brittany with her and heads over to the piano, motioning for Brad to move out the way.
"Britt-Britt, seeing you hurt, felt like someone had torn out my heart and ran over it. So I realized that I never want to see you like that ever again. But, seeing you like that, made me scream at myself for being such a coward and a terrible person for giving you what you wanted."
They both sat down on the piano bench, Santana nearest the door with the blonde dancer on her right.
Mercedes leaned down from the back row to anyone who was listening, "Does anyone have a clue about what the hell is going on? Santana Lopez having a heart felt moment? Puh-lease."
Nervous shifting from the front row alerted everyone to the brunette, petite diva, whose leg was bouncing uncontrollably. Her wide eyes were looking everywhere except the people around her, her teeth were anxiously biting down on her bottom lip and all the club members knew that Rachel knew what was going on.
"Alright Man-Hands, spill," the Blonde ex head cheerleader spoke, narrowing her eyes.
Rachel was about to reply but was cut short when piano keys started being played, and everyone's eyes averted to the pair that had admittedly forgotten about. The Latina was playing.
For you, there'll be no more crying,
For you, the sun will be shining.
Before that moment, no one had ever heard the Latina sing with such emotion, and they felt like they were intruding on a private moment between the pair, but they just couldn't look away.
And I feel that when I'm with you, it's alright,
I know it's right.
Brittany started to shyly smile, tucking a piece of curled, blonde hair behind her ear and Santana stared at the heavenly blush that stained the dancers' cheek.
To you, I'll give the world,
To you, I'll never be cold.
'Cuz I feel that when I'm with you, it's alright,
I know it's right.
And the songbirds are singing like they know the score,
And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before.
She slowly grew more confident, even if after the song, if Brittany decided to stay with Artie, the Latina at least had the comfort of knowing she made her best friend smile.
And I wish you all the love, in the world,
But most of all, I wish it from myself.
Santana ignored the intakes of breath behind her; she finally didn't care about what the glee club would think about her. She felt free.
And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score,
And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before.
A loud, excited squeal broke the Latina off from her trance and pale, toned arms wrapped tightly around her. Santana had puckered lips against hers and she was in heaven. She slid her hands up to Brittany's waist and she kissed back.
Brittany pulled back only to lean into her ear, "You made me a very happy ducky San!"
The ex-second in demand smirk proudly into her shoulder, "I'm glad to hear that B. I hated you being a sad panda. Will you be my very happy, little ducky, B?"
A deep kiss was her answer; she opened her right as she heard wheels squeaking across the floor, only to see Artie pushing himself out the room with his head down. I can't even begin to feel any sympathy for him…oh well, I got my girl.
She resumed being consumed in the dancers' kiss and she could swear she heard the tiny diva bragging about her listing skills.
Berry's not half bad, you know, except when she's fawning over Finn. Maybe there's hope for her.