Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

A/n: sorry it took so long. I have so much going on in my life at the moment, but I'm going to make sure I update at least once a week. Probs on Sundays. Thank you for all the reviews, They really motivate me to write. Thank you so much. I hope you like this chapter… Though I think I fail at Brittany and the bitchiness of Santana. Im going to try to work harder than that.

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"What are we doing here, San?" Brittany cocked her head, a blatant look of confusion plastered to her face. Rachel groaned as she finally found the correct key, her nerves on edge as the bouncy blonde and spicy Latina impatiently waited. She could feel there eyes burning though her, the heat only leaving to judge her house. Rachel opened the door, letting the two cheerios in. She didn't quite know how it went from agreeing to Santana's plan to Santana and Brittany inviting themselves over, but it had happened. Here she was, at her house, with two of her worst enemies at her back, pretending to be nice to her. She sighed.

Sure, Rachel had imagined the day Santana and Britney came over her house, but it was never a friendly thought. Normally the day was filled with hate and fighting, Santana and Britney (sometimes Quinn) there to just make her life a living hell. Not that it wasn't already a living hell, it was. There was no doubt there.

"My room's just upstairs. Do you want anything to drink or eat?" She politely asked; her dads had taught her to be a polite host no matter the situation. Both cheerios shook their heads no. Rachel let her body relax a little. The ride to her house had been riddled with Brittany's pointless rambles, but still the tension in the car had been thick enough to cut. The tension was a product of Santana's will power dwindling as she tried her hardest to not call Rachel names. Something Rachel was very happy about, but still the tension itself had coiled her nerves tight. In the big house, now, though, the tension seemed to ease. Maybe it was the space. Rachel couldn't quite figure out why, but she was glad it had dissolved a bit. Rachel smiled and motioned the girls to follow her up the stairs. The three girls silently marched up the stairs and to Rachel's overly pink bedroom.

"Could your room get anymore pink?" Santana scoffed, nearly falling back in shock as she entered.

"I like it!" Brittany chirped. "It's like we're in a giant piece of cotton candy!" Both brunettes just rolled their eyes. Rachel stood awkwardly by her bed, watching the two girls explore her room. Not knowing what Santana wanted was driving her insane. Normally, she was the most talkative person around, but the awkward tension that was now rushing the room was leaving her speechless. What was she supposed to say when she didn't know what Santana was even doing at her lovely abode?

"Enough of his idle chit-chat. We're here to do business," Santana snapped, closing in the space between Rachel and her. "Man-hands, closet?" Rachel cringed at the nickname. She had pleaded with Santana to refrain from using them. She sighed. She knew it was too much to ask for. Rachel pointed to a small door, a full-length mirror hanging on it.

"I don't see how my clothes have anything to do with this 'plan' you keep talking about," Rachel was going to mention Santana's use of 'man-hands,' but she thought that would be pushing it. She did not need an even angrier Santana on top of this mess.

"Seeing as you can't even dress yourself, I've seen it upon myself to dress you, treasure trail. You should be happy," Santana opened the door, her eyes widening at the large walk-in closet. "This better not be all filled with your shitty clothes."

"I happen to like what I wear, thank you," Rachel retorted. She heard Brittany giggle, who was now lying on her bed, glazed eyes focused on the patterns in her ceiling.

"Well, with these," the taller brunette held up an animal-print cardigan, a look of disgust lingering on her face. "You will not catch Puck's eye." She ventured further into Rachel's closet. Rachel was tempted to follow, but being in such close quarters with the cheerio did not seem like such a good idea. "We need you looking sexy, if that's even possible, when you sing," Santana snickered at her little comment. Brittany was, however, hysterical with laughter, though Rachel suspected her laugher was the product of something else.

"I found a cat, and it's eating a shark!" Brittany laughed out, confirming Rachel's suspicions.

"Wear to sing?" Rachel ignored the blonde, a panic rising in her petite form.

"Duh, you're singing to Puck tomorrow, or have you forgot, Ru-Paul," Santana didn't even look up as she went through cardigan after cardigan. "Do you own anything else but cardigans?"

"I'm singing to Puck?" Rachel brought her hand up to her mouth. "I-I-I can't sing to Puck!" She nearly stomped her foot on the ground but controlled herself. "I don't even know what I would sing to him! You have to be joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Santana glared at her. Rachel bit her lip and shook her head. "Didn't think so. Look, the only way we are going to get Puck to go after to you is if you grab his full attention. And what better to get him to focus on you, than if you sing to him." Rachel nodded, though she could feel her skin becoming a sickly pale color. Sure, she could sing. Singing was her life, but the idea of singing to Puck just gave her the shivers. She couldn't exactly put her finger on why she felt that way. She'd sung to Finn many times before, but that was Finn. She had loved him at the time. She didn't exactly love Puck. How was she supposed to sing to him without the feelings behind it?

"I can't sing to him! I don't even know how I feel about him!" She panicked. Santana only looked amused, her hands poised at her hips.

"You can act, right?" Rachel nodded. "Then think of this as more practice." Santana smirked, going back into the depths of Rachel's closet. "Okay," she held up another cardigan. "Do you own any normal clothes?"

"Right here," Rachel maneuvered her way to the back of her closet and directed the Latina's attention to a small section hidden in the way back. She blushed looking at the forgotten section of clothing. Her daddy had bought her those on his last business trip to New York. She had very please with her daddy's present. In fact, she had loved the clothes, but her dad, the traditional dad of the family, thought the clothes were too inappropriate for school, and so she hid them in her closet. She hated to disappoint her dad. He had quite a temper and could fly off edge at any little thing that displeased him.

"Now this is what I'm talking about," Santana's face lit up as she gawked at each article of clothing she flipped though. It wasn't long before the brunette cheerio had an entire outfit displayed out next to Brittany on the bed. The Latina had picked out a pair of skinny jeans, a white camisole that had lace on the top, and a grey blazer that tied right below the bust line. To top the outfit off were a pair of grey low-top converse.

"Oo, this is cute," Brittany squealed, holding up the blazer.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Santana groaned. "Before I faint of a pink-overload, I've got to get out of here. Just come to school in that and sing. Got it?"

"What am I going to sing?" Rachel cautiously questioned the Latina.

"You'll think of something. I'm sure of it." And with that, Santana was off, leaving Rachel with her thoughts.