"Brittany Susan Pierce, you get your butt down here this instant, or you are walking to school!"
Brittany groaned, reaching a hand out off the bed, attempting to coax the rest of her body to follow. As much as she was energetic during the day, she really wasn't a morning person. Who would want to be up at 7 in the morning anyway? It was one of the few times she could still be asleep at 7, since she didn't have Cheerios' practice before school. Couldn't her mother cut her some slack and let her sleep in?
"Britt, you have to feed Charity and Tubbs!" Her father's voice came floating up this time, and the teen huffed, rolling herself out of bed in all her seventeen year old glory. She ended up sitting with her back against her bedframe, cradling her face between her hands, blonde hair in a mess around her.
Honestly, she herself never knew why she was such a bear in the morning-where she was normally as goofy as a duck, she couldn't, for the life of her, understand why she was always so tired when she woke up, almost as if she hadn't gotten sleep at all.
Sighing, she made another noise of displeasure, before deciding that she had better follow her father's advice. Her family might let her lateness slide, but she would probably have sulky tails and haughty looks to deal with from the cats if she didn't feed them.
"Britt, mommy wants to know if you want pancakes this morning!" Ashley burst into her room, already dressed and chirpy with excitement. Immediately, Brittany's mood picked up-her sister was too adorable for words, and a smile from her always cheered her up, no matter the time or day.
Returning the bright grin which had become a Pierce trademark, she held her long arms out for a hug. "Hey, baby girl." Her voice rasped out, and she tried not to swallow, hating her morning breath.
Happily accepting the offer, Ashley bounded over to sit in her older sister's lap, the person she so admired, ever since she could remember. "Britty, can I feed Charity for you?"
Pretending to ponder the answer, the older sister hummed, as she tapped her chin with a finger. "Hmm…I don't know. Can you?"
"Uh-huh. I know how to do it and everything!" After taking a short moment to chuckle at her sister's imitation of a bobblehead doll, Brittany squeezed the eight year old in her arms.
"You want to feed Lord T too?"
Scrunching her face in disgust, Ashley shook her head. "Nuh-uh. He's going to steal Charity's food anyway. Why doesn't he just eat from his own bowl?"
Her laugh was tinkling and pure, as Brittany replied. "Well, people usually share food on dates, right?"
"Eww! Isn't Charity afraid of cooties?"
"I don't know, squirt. Just be glad we don't have any Lord Tubbington the Seconds."
"I wouldn't mind Charity having kittens!" Shaking her head in amusement, Brittany gently pushed at her sister, indicating that she wanted to get up. Ashley got up, bouncing a little in excitement. "Can I go feed them now? Please, please, please?"
When Brittany nodded, the younger Pierce took off like a shot, running out the door. Brittany's warning to be careful was lost on smaller girl. Smiling a little at the nice morning she was having so far, she decided to get dressed for school.
One brisk shower, and regulation Cheerio uniform and ponytail later, Brittany was ready to go, tossing a couple of things into her book bag. If someone were to ask her what the necessities in life were, she would say, her phone (her parents worried), her lip gloss (you never know when you're going to kiss someone), and her ballerina flats (she's had them since forever).
"BrittBritt! Your sister is feeding the boars of war!"
Taking the steps two at a time, Brittany stopped just short of the kitchen, watching with a bemused eyebrow arch at her father standing in a mock-salute, directing Ashley, who mirrored his action, as she tried to hang on the cat food.
"Boars of war? Daddy, they're cats." A pause. "Lord Tubbs would never go to war." Another beat. "Would he?" He had been sneaking out more often…
Her mother sashayed out from the pantry, clicking her tongue at her flustered husband, who was trying to comfort their eldest. Brittany was pouting something fierce, a shine to her eyes clueing her in to the situation.
"John, what did you do to my daughter?"
"Hey, she's my daughter too!"
In response, Brittany's mom crossed her eyes, making sure that Brittany saw. As hoped, the sight made her laugh, as her dad whispered something into her ear, and it made her beam wide. "Alright!"
"Hey, if she gets one, I get one too!" Ashley cut in, feeling a little left out. Chuckling, her dad came round the kitchen island, reaching down to tickle his youngest daughter's side. "Now aren't you a brat?"
Brittany sighed, as she familiarized herself with the scene once more. Every morning started off almost the same-with laughter, with smiles, with love. But she could never shake off the feeling that there was something else, something out there that she was waiting for.
Which was ridiculous. She had a perfectly happy life; some might argue it was perfect. She was part of Glee Club; she was Head Cheerio; she was Sue Sylvester's only 'consultant' when it came to dance routines; she was thinking about running for senior class president. Sure, her grades might not be stellar, but her parents had never held that against her, or made her feel like there was anything wrong with it.
(She didn't think they would ever admit it themselves, but she thought they kind of liked that they had daughters that were so unconfined by social stigmas and boundaries.)
She was happy. As happy as she could be.
A honk from outside signaled her ride, and Brittany whirled, eyes widening. "Quinn's early!"
"Britt, baby, invite Quinnie in?" Her mother suggested, laying out a plate stacked high with buttered toast. Nodding, Brittany flew to the door to let her bestest friend in the entire world into her house.
Quinn had her hand up in the air, poised to knock on the solid wood door. A small smirk crossed her face, as noises from the kitchen floated to her ears.
"Yet another day at the zoo, huh?"
Brittany shrugged, wondering if her house was a zoo, could she have ducks? Stepping back, she ushered her friend in, absentmindedly bopping to a beat.
"You're energized."
"Huh?"
"Britt, you haven't stopped dancing since I arrived." Concern softening her features, her blonde friend stepped closer to her and raised a hand to her cheek.
It was such a motherly gesture, and Brittany was suddenly struck with an image of her doing the same thing to her daughter, whom she had given up for adoption after she got pregnant by their friend, Puck, back in junior year. Quinn had been a mess after giving birth, but she had found her way back. Somewhat. Brittany knew, even if no one else did, that Quinn struggled with not jumping onto a bus and riding it all the way around the world, away from Lima, Ohio, away from all the judging eyes and knowing disdain. And she would have taken Brittany with her.
Brittany probably would have agreed.
Forcing a laugh out, Brittany shook her shoulders. "It's my birthday next week, and the goblins decided it would be their birthday present to me by not stealing anymore of my shoes."
Hazel eyes stared at her, wondering if it was something she could believe. Brittany often used the 'naïve blondie' tactic to get people to stop prying into her personal life, and it wasn't the first time Quinn had been subjected to it. Brittany kind of found it funny when she could trip over her words and basically troll every single kid at their high school with weird sentences and statements.
People looked at her, but no one really looked at her.
Sometimes Quinn didn't too.
"Quinnie, come inside and eat something!" Her best friend turned, her posture as straight as ever in a pretty sundress she remembered picking out for the short-haired blonde on one of their many shopping trips together. "And bring Britt in too!"
"Your mom wants the food in you instead of on the plate." She said, smiling, as she tugged Brittany by the elbow to the island, leaning against it whilst Brittany bounced around in the seat of the stool. Ashley, well-used to seeing Quinn around by now-the girl had been almost a part of their family!-leaned over to take a bite out of the teen's toast. She liked the quiet blonde-her sister's best friend was really pretty and could easily be mistaken to be part of their family. And did she mention that she was really pretty too?
Catching her sibling's sigh, Brittany's eyes narrowed, as she made a motion as though performing telepathy. "I sense…you think I'm pretty."
"No, ew!"
"Well, mom is pretty?"
"No! I mean, yeah, she is, but no!"
Hiding her laughter, Brittany pretended to ponder again. "What about…you think dad is pretty?"
"Hey, dad is handsome!" Her father argued, butting into the conversation as he handed Quinn another toast; he was just about ready to leave for work, all dressed up in his suit and tie.
Ashley giggled, kissing her father and leaving some bread crumbs on his face, which he smiled away, pecking his wife and daughter on the cheek. He offered Quinn a bear hug that was a total contrast to his otherwise dreary appearance, but the visiting blonde had long since gotten used to, and even looked forward to, the crushing embraces that made her feel so much more loved than she did at home. Her friend's family was just so…warm, it made her teeth hurt sometimes.
"Alright, Ash. Give it up. Is daddy handsome?" Brittany's dad tried again, snagging one more piece of toast, as he hovered around the kitchen table, patting down his pockets to check he had everything.
"Yes, daddy is really handsome." The youngest girl laughed, holding her hands out once more for a final hug. Squeezing his child, John Pierce exhaled happily. His life was perfect. So, so perfect.
"You girl's going to leave with me? Quinn, your car is blocking mine."
"Oops, sorry Mr Pierce." Everyone had long since given up on the hope that Quinn would call Brittany's parents anything other than Mr and Mrs Pierce. "I'll back it out."
"No, no, it's fine. We can go now, if you want." Brittany stood, smoothing down the pleats of her skirt as she downed her orange juice in one go, smiling deviously at her sister who was attempting the same thing. "Maybe next time the unicorn will bless you instead, Ash."
Pouting, Ashley jumped off her seat and rushed over, hugging them as high as she could, which meant waist-height. "Alright, Britty. Bye Quinn." She echoed, hugging the other blonde as well.
Brittany began to hop towards the door, wanting to get out of the house and to school so she could maybe sneak into the choir room and map the next routine. Sectionals were coming up, and she needed to see if everyone could do the steps.
Exchanging last goodbyes with Susan and Ashley, Quinn followed, gently sashaying her friend's hips, good-naturedly trying to still her swaying body.
"Whoa, Britt, seriously, are you nervous or something?" Brittany scrunched her nose at the question. "Aw, Quinn, cheer up! It's a beautiful morning!"
They both looked up at a distant sound of a lawnmower starting, and caught sight of a very topless Mr Randall, who lived down the street with his many pet hamsters. Not a very pleasant sight, seeing as how he was close to fifty and all.
"Yes. Very beautiful." The shorter blonde made gagging motions with her hand, as they stepped up to her car. "So beautiful, that I want to bleach my eyes out so I can keep that image in my head for the rest of my life."
Giggling, Brittany crossed to the passenger side, waiting for Quinn to unlock it with her car fob, and tossed her bag into the backseat, hesitating at the entrance. Her eyes scanned for her father, who was waiting for them in his car, and she waved vigorously. "Love you, daddy!"
Her father waved through the rearview mirror.
Settling into the vehicle, Brittany clicked in the seatbelt while her friend started up the car. "Do you think something's different about today?" The words slipped out before she could stop them, or think too deeply about them. She just couldn't seem to shrug off the sensation of being watched. Her neck prickled the way it always seemed to do under scrutiny, and she found herself turning in her seat to stare through the back window.
Quinn shot her a glance, which she caught through the corner of her eye, but she knew what she was feeling. Call her crazy, but there was anticipation in the air.
As Quinn pulled out of the driveway, Brittany's father followed behind, taking the left, as they drew right. Huffing, Brittany relaxed in her seat, turning around.
Immediately, she turned once more, almost giving herself whiplash, her heartbeat picking up immensely.
Someone was there. On the corner of her street, watching her leave. She was sure of it.
"Britt, come on. You're beginning to freak me out here, a little."
"Huh?" She asked, turning her head slightly in confusion, trying to split her attention between the dark shape she was sure was beneath a large tree, and her friend.
"What's going on?" Quinn asked, keeping the wheel steady as concern laced her tone. Brittany could feel a tightening in her gut, and she tore her gaze away long enough to try to explain it to her best friend. "There's someone there, watching me."
"Where?" The other girl asked, protective instincts kicking in. She craned to search the rearview mirror for whatever it was that had Brittany so spooked. The normally bubbly cheerleader swiveled in her seat once more to point out the figure.
"There…hey, where'd it go?"
"Britt…" Brittany could hear the exasperation and disappointment in her tone. Sometimes Brittany wished that Quinn wasn't always so judgmental.
Because she swore, there was somebody there.
There was.
Brittany walked into Glee Club later that day, darting a glance over her shoulder. She was the last to trail in, having gotten confused with her top again-she had been trying to fit her head through one of the sleeves.
The buzz of choir members quickened, having noticed their blonde cheerleader's strange behavior through the school day. She was exhibiting it right now-as confident as she was, Brittany never walked backwards, like ever. Legend was, that at one time at cheer camp, someone dared Brittany to walk backwards into the forest and back out again, and she totally freaked, hyperventilating and howling, and no one but Quinn could calm her down, dodge all the flailing limbs without a scratch.
Mike got up from his seat, cautiously walking down to his friend. Out of all the Glee members-excluding Tina, of course-Brittany was the one he liked the most. He didn't think anyone else realized how much she was playing them, with all her non-sequiturs and seemingly out-of-nowhere remarks. Though he himself sometimes was astounded by how fast his girl's brain could work.
"Hey Britt." The girl started, facing him with startled eyes that were filled with paranoia. Mike registered it with curiosity, carefully placing a hand on her arm, before continuing. "You ok? You seem pretty…tense."
Brittany was having a weird day. Throughout all her classes, and Cheerios' practice, she had felt that same, uncomfortable sensation on her back. It had followed her from History and Physics, Literature and Calculus. Lunch, it had hovered, making its presence known, and it had even been present when she had been Coach Sylvester's office, going over routines and talking her out of turning the pyramid into a cartwheeling feat.
She was sure now. She was being watched.
Still, she shrugged it off, downplaying it to see if it was just her. "I'm being tracked as a possible sacrifice for Earth."
Mike's brows furrowed, and past him, Brittany could see everyone's head turning to listen in to their conversation.
Maybe she was too subtle.
"I can feel their probes. It's just like the first time, when they invaded my tent? They've come to finally collect my debt."
Alright. So maybe it was just her. Mike didn't seem to sense anything amiss, and well, if the rest of club's confusion wasn't obvious enough, then no one else did either.
"Britt? You sure you're alright?" Quinn, this time, setting her book down, her mouth twisted into an unsure spring of amusement and worry.
Brittany began to feel bad. She shouldn't have tried messing around with them-she should've just been honest and maybe they would have helped her search out the cause of her uneasiness.
It was too late now, though, because Mr Schue decided that it was time to cut in with his impeccably bad timing. Maybe she should have gotten him a watch for Christmas instead of spending time with Santa Claus. Maybe then he would actually pretend to care about coming in early, instead of spending all his time with Miss Pillsbury, or whatever it was he did in his dark corner of the staff office.
Actually, she should have asked Mr Claus to get him one on her behalf!
"…should sit down, Brittany." A deep voice cut through her thoughts, and her head snapped up, slightly disoriented. She had been plotting possible entry points into the time stream to get back to last Christmas. Her time machine looked almost exactly like the one in the movie-Back To The Future. Well, except for the colour. She did like purple.
Quinn patted the seat next to her, and she plopped down, trying to pay attention to Mr Schue as he went on about the week's assignment. Behind her, Mike leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "So, some football player is having a party tonight. Puck wants me to come, be his wingman. So I was wondering if you would come, you know. So we can dance."
Without turning back, Brittany replied in a solemn voice. "But the aliens will be there. So I can't go. They need to have an unbiased conclusion."
"Sure, but they need to see you dance, Britt. I mean, I think you outshine the sun when you do. That should count for something, right?"
Brittany stifled a laugh. Mike had no idea how much of a flirt he was. "Did you really just say that with your girlfriend next to you?"
"Yes, Michael. Did you just say that with me next to you?" Tina joined in, ribbing her boyfriend. Mike held his hands up in surrender-he knew an ambush when he saw one. Self-preservation was in control now.
"Are you coming, Britt? It'd be a great way to de-stress. You know, forget that the weight of the world rests on your shoulders." The eclectic girl asked again, leaning a bit forward. Brittany caught Quinn's amused glance from beside her-the Asian was practically in between them now, and Mr Schue hadn't said a word.
As Rachel prattled on about something or other-Brittany was sure it was about the duvets-she turned in her seat to look at her friends. "I don't know. I don't think I should." She needed to make sure her grades kept up; senior class presidents didn't have GPAs lower than 3.2.
"You should go."
"Quinn?"
Her best friend sighed, shooting a glare at Puck, who kept staring at her from his spot at the back, and said, "You've been off the entire day. You said it was a beautiful day earlier this morning; and yes, it has been. But sweetie, ever since we left your house, you've been acting strange. Go." She held up a hand at the oncoming protest. "Go, and have fun. Teach them a little something about real dances. Mike can be a great teacher." Quinn teased, picking up on any possible arguments she would be faced with.
"Guys, do you have something to add to this announcement?" Mr Schue stared at them, eyes narrowed with frustration. He was used to them ignoring him, but never so blatantly.
All four teens shrugged, unrepentant.
"I don't know why he bothers." Quinn mutters, picking up her book to return to where she left off, and Brittany shrugged, settling deeper into her seat in a bid to rid the prickling on the back of her neck.
"So you'll come?" Mike whispered again, chancing it when Mr Schue turned away to look for the sheet music he brought along.
Brittany weighed her options. If she didn't go, she would probably be stuck at home, staring at equations that she didn't understand till her brain hurt, and clutching her hair over formulas that suddenly didn't make sense. Maybe she would spend her time with her notebook instead. That would be better, writing…
But if she went, she would probably have fun, probably hook up with someone, probably drink too little and dance too much.
It sounded perfect. Especially with the time she was having today.
"Alright. I'll go."
Choosing that particular moment, Mr Schue silenced them once more with a glance, and as he continued on about song choices for the word of the week, Brittany felt a warm hand on her shoulder.
"Great. I'll pick you up at seven?"
"It's fine, I'll drive my bike, thanks."
"Sweet! I'll text you the address! What about you, Quinn?" Mike turned to whisper to her next, wondering if he could get the girl to come along. Quinn hadn't been to any football parties ever since…
"No, thanks. My mom needs me at home." Quinn replied, a hint of regret in her tone. "Besides," she smirked, keeping her head forward. "I don't really fancy being upstaged by you two. That's why Tina isn't going as well, isn't it?"
The raven-haired girl laughed low, a sly smile of her own on her face.
"Ah, you know me so well, Quinn."
The bass was thumping, physically sending vibrations into the soles of her feet, like a electric shock to her heart.
Brittany felt alive. The music, the rhythm, the beat. They massaged her brain, and helped her relax, reminding her that life was still moving on despite all her paranoia today.
That had been what she had blamed it on, anyway. Of course people would be looking at her; she was Head Cheerio.
"Britt!" Mike called from where he had been standing in the crowded hallway, waiting for her. Pushing off, he beckoned with his head towards the kitchen. "Want a drink?"
Brittany declined. Tugging the black-and-white striped vest she was wearing over her stomach, she played with her short's suspenders riding low on her hips, a pair of bright yellow high tops on her feet. She waded through the drunk teens, reaching her friend with a smile on her face. She was beyond ready to dance her troubles away.
Brittany loved to dance. The feeling of moving, of not having a right or wrong way to do it, of the music and just being. She couldn't always say the right things with her words, or mouth, but she could always say the right things with her body. A tilt of her chin, a spinning on the balls of her feet, the gyrating of her hips. Actions that were as clear to her as the Cyrillic lettering of her writing.
Mike offered his arm, and she took it, tugging as she led the way to the cleared-out living room. Speakers pounded the music into the wall of walking hormones, curling around her and beckoning with a far more seductive invite.
They didn't need words, as they found a spot free from people. The duo just started popping and locking, simultaneously, looking for all the world like they were performing a well-choreographed dance.
They moved with the music, heeding its commanding rhythm, the rise and fall of melodies, and the enticing tides of pop and rock. Slowly, bit by bit, Brittany relaxed, her thoughts mingling with the lyrics, the different tones.
She had no idea how long they stayed on the makeshift dance floor. Her thoughts full of synth and reverbs, she merely nodded when Mike excused himself for a drink. Dehydration hadn't hit her yet, and her eyes slid shut, as she moved her hips and waist slowly, opening her space to whomever wanted to join her.
She didn't open her eyes when a body slid into the spot vacated by Mike, and kept the rhythm in her mouth, humming the noise out with her exhales.
Whoever it was, was a good dancer. She could feel it, thrumming through the air, through the way they seemed to just synch together. Still, she kept her eyes closed, focused on keeping the pace. She didn't want to go too fast without any kind of invitation from her impromptu partner.
At then it came. She sensed it, the minute the intent changed-they started to speed up, adding intricate steps. A pair of fingers barely grazed her hips, and she responded in kind, resting her fingers even lighter on shoulders, letting herself guess. She was kind of surprised when her hands had to drop a bit lower-her partner was shorter than her, but in a nice way.
She noted the feel of soft hair. A girl?
A small smile growing on her lips, she decided to be a bit more daring. She probably was only dancing with the Head Cheerio to get a reaction from the boys, to give them a show. Well, she would give her a run for her money.
As the beat picked up and grew more intense, the way she knew it would've, she suddenly turned, pressing herself flush against a slender body, wrapping her fingers in a mess of hair.
"Strike one." She husked out, anticipation colouring her voice with the game.
A warm, startled gasp into her ear made her grin grow sly, squeezing her eyes tighter shut. She felt arms come to encircle her waist, hanging low and loose. Her heartbeat was doing a much faster dance, trying its best to leap out of her chest, or through her ears. The excitement and expectation was fueling its staccato pumps, her mind clearing of anything but the moment itself.
"Strike two." She counted once more, beginning to slowly circle her hips, her butt grazing a pelvic bone.
This time, she got a growl. It sent a shot of heat through the jig in her mind, a small, niggling piece of clarity. Her reactions…
Determined to brush it aside though, to follow through, she fully initiated contact, grinding against the lithe body, pressing her cheek to the side of hair that smelled like spice and the outdoors. The kind of air that she always loved on camping trips with her family. The kind that made her want to turn around and kiss whoever it was with the elusive scent.
Wait, kiss?
It was then that she noticed something else-the music was winding down, as was her concentration on her game. The warmth from behind her seemed to have noticed it too, and Brittany tried not to gasp in shock, when she felt something that nearly carried her off her feet.
A pair of lips on her neck. Feather-light. Barely there.
Familiar lips.
"Strike three. Guess I'm out." A raspy voice whispered into her ear.
Memories of a distant playground, now defunct, drifted to the forefront of her mind, badgering her with details of a meeting that had given her Charity, the sweetest cat she had ever known.
A meeting with an-even then-beautiful girl. One that had pressed a kiss just shy of where she had really wanted it to be.
And as quickly as she had come, she left, and Brittany nearly toppled to the floor, catching herself just in time as her support from behind vanished. The trails of the smooth song they had been dancing to wisped and wrapped around the room, clogging her airways with smoke and deliciously wanton thoughts.
"Wait…" The words whispered out on their own, dragging their claws across the Sahara that was her mouth. "Wait…"
She knew who it was. And she wasn't going to let her go again.
"Wait!"
A flash of dark hair at the edge of the crowd.
A/N: So, hi there. This is my first fanfic ever, and since I ship Brittana like crazy-c'mon, they're perfect for each other-I figured why not? So, in case there's any confusion, this is a multi-chap, so...and if you guys like it, I would love to know what about it that you do or don't! Also, I'm quite irregular with updates-and I have finals coming up, so *whoop-de-dee*-so I figure you should just follow it to know when I have a new chapter out:D And don't worry. I'm just setting the scene for now;) Thanks!
Review, and make my heart ache with criticism!
