4.

It took less than fifteen minutes for the Glee club to be thrown out of their hotel. They had been using Rachel and Quinn's room to practice in, it being the biggest, which Rachel had finally accepted as a viable substitute to losing the room with a view to Santana. "Much like getting the biggest dressing room, I should begin to get used to it."

The raucous and unpolished choreography thumped through the floor and loud singing interspersed with Rachel demanding everyone shut up while she showed them how to do it properly, soon annoyed the guests and management and they were very impolitely asked to not use the hotel as a rehearsal space.

"That's my bed!" Rachel squealed, as something crunched and Finn's foot plunged through to the floor.

"Oops, sorry," he grimaced, apologetically.

"That's the most action that bed will ever see," Puck snorted with laughter.

"Shut up, Puck," Rachel snapped at him.

"That's the security deposit gone," Mr Schue sighed in defeat.

"I guess you'll have to share with Quinn," Santana suggested gleefully, only to have Quinn's knuckles instantly bruising her thigh. "Ouch! But seriously Quinn, this weird friendship thing you've got going on. What is that?"

"You know, Rachel," Quinn ignored Santana and looked over at her room-mate who was checking out the broken slats under her bed in dismay. "I've got a new hobby, you should join me. It's called, 'playing Santana' and it's so very, very easy and fun to do. Care to join me?"

Santana glared menacingly at Rachel.

"Uh no. It might be wiser if I didn't," Rachel replied, as she pushed Finn and Sam away, their attempts to repair the bed were making things worse. "She might kill me."

"You wish you could wind me up, Quinnie bear." Quinn shoved her off the arm of the couch where she was perched next to her. "Hey, hands off, Fabray! You've missed your chance. I'm taken."

"Whatever. It's taken me a while, I admit, but I've just figured out how to get you back for all the teasing."

"Not a chance. You cannot defeat me." Santana scrunched her nose up in amusement and sat back in her seat. With a smirk, she took a deep breath and called across the room, "Britt, Q's hitting on me!"

Brittany sauntered over to plonk herself on Santana's lap and laid her arm around Quinn's neck running her long fingers lightly along the girl's neck. Quinn shifted uncomfortably well aware of Santana's smug grin.

"Quinn, you should have said something earlier. It's too late now, there were vows, otherwise," she winked at Quinn with a cheeky grin. "I always totally wondered what stretch marks would feel like with my tongue."

Quinn's jaw dropped and the shocked attention of the rest of the rooms occupants was fixed on the three girls. Totally flustered, she went bright red and began to splutter incoherently.

Santana roared with laughter hugging Brittany closer and dropping an adoring kiss on her bare shoulder. "Britt, you are the perfect woman. So very, very wanky."

"Alright, everybody out!" shouted Mr Schue, before things could get any more uncomfortable for him and before more furniture could be broken. "Rachel, we'll ask for a new bed or get another room. Just leave it."

"We could go to the park?" Sam suggested. "There's loads of room and we wont be in anyone's way. And its a beautiful day out."

"That's a great idea, Sam." Mr Schue pounced on the idea with relief, thankful for a distraction from the awkward teenage drama. "You heard the man, move out!"

"Wow," Brittany whispered in Santana's ear. "Singing in the park, like Enchanted." Santana did not look enthused at that thought.

Once in the park they made their way to an wide open grassy space away from the paths where people wouldn't get annoyed by them or eavesdrop, as Rachel described it, on their 'National's Winning Performance'.

"I needs me some ice cream. Dig deep Mr Schue!" Santana dragged Brittany off in the direction of a carefully scouted ice cream stand and the rest trailed after them, convinced Mr Schuester was treating them to a cone each.

The group strolled along in the dappled shade of a tree lined path focused on eating their expensive ice cream. If someone else was paying then why not go for high quality, high cost, good stuff? A group of half a dozen children suddenly overtook them running and shouting happily to each other as they headed for the ice cream stall the glee club had just vacated. Brittany smiled at them as she watched them pass.

"I hope our kids look like you," Brittany said unexpectedly to Santana who was walking along, until then contentedly, beside her. The entire glee club turned their heads simultaneously to scrutinise Santana's reaction to Brittany's innocent words.

The ice cream cone she was carrying slipped out of her suddenly weak fingers and her eyes, momentarily unseeing, made her walk into a signpost. Sam's cone tilted dangerously as he leaned around Tina to watch the girls, he didn't even notice as his vanilla scoop hit the deck with a soft 'thwap'. Finn missed his mouth and stabbed himself in the cheek with his ice cream cone, wiping it quickly with his sleeve before anyone noticed. Fortunately for him everyone was focused on Santana.

"Ow shit," she squeaked, furiously rubbing her forehead.

Puck yelled with laughter and the rest of group sniggered and snorted at the unusually flustered Santana who was now being worriedly comforted by Brittany gingerly rubbing her bruised head. "I'm sorry," she said, softly.

"I'm fine, don't poke it, it hurts," Santana snapped, pushing Brittany's hand away a little more forcefully than she intended.

Brittany's brow furrowed, she knew she'd made one of those comments she wasn't supposed to say out loud and now Santana was mad. She looked mournfully down at the ice cream splattered at their feet. "I'll get you another ice cream," she muttered, with a hitch in her voice identifying her as close to tears. Santana watched as she left to give her some distance for her cooling off period, with a hand to her head trying to ignore the oblivious sniggering alongside her.

"I guess Britt really is a knock-out," Puck laughed.

Taking pity on the poor girls Mercedes changed topic and soon got them all talking as they waited for Brittany to return. "What are we going to do on the day off in between first round and showcase?"

"You're so sure we're getting through?" Kurt asked.

"Not if we don't get our rehearsal on," Rachel huffed, getting progressively more annoyed by the lack of urgency her friends were displaying. "It's not a day off! It's a rehearsal day."

"You can stop laughing now, Quinn," Santana hissed at the girl next to her who was sporadically bursting out into a fit of giggles. When she didn't stop Santana elbowed her in the ribs causing her to fall off the wall they were perched on and collapse into a heap on the ground, still laughing. Her odd, mini snorts were infectious and soon again they were all laughing at the still mortified Santana.

"I hate you all!" she shouted and then scowled until Brittany returned with a new ice cream.

"I got you extra sprinkles," she explained, her voice sheepish but with a hopeful side smile. "And a popsicle so you can hold it to your head. They didn't sell frozen peas."

"Thanks," Santana said softly then she hooked her arm in Brittany's and pulled her down to sit next to her in the spot previously occupied by Quinn.

"I'm sorry," Brittany whispered.

"It's okay, just not in front of everyone, yeah?"

"Okay. Why's Quinn on the floor?"

"It's where she belongs. At my feet. She should get used to it," Santana said, holding a blackcurrant flavour popsicle to her head and watching as Brittany ate the ice cream she'd just gone to get her.

"We still have to rehearse," Rachel was beginning to vent steam from her ears. "There are two new numbers to perfect."

"Chill out, Rachel!" Puck rolled his eyes. "This is like a less lame version of a team bonding experience."

"Yeah, If we aren't ready now then we'll never be. Stop freaking out about it," Mercedes added.

"I want to go see the Statue of Liberty," Tina said, getting back on the topic they were all most interested in, apart from Brittany and Santana's future babies.

"Yeah, like in X-men, when-" Sam noticed the slightly pained stares from the girls as he got his geek on. "Never mind."

"I don't want to see it," Brittany said quietly to Santana. "It's creepy. There's people inside her head."

"That's okay, we don't have to go with these tourists. We can go do something else."

"Like what?"

"What about the Empire State building?" Finn said excited at the thought. "I want to get a photo for my mom."

Santana turned green at the thought. "No, just no."

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Tina asked.

"I fell asleep in front of the TV one night and woke up to find Brittany watching the end of 'King Kong'. It wasn't pretty."

"And you don't like heights," Brittany whispered.

"Shhh. Yes, okay. Maybe that too, but if you want to see them... You should go with Q. Keep an eye on her and Rachel. I don't trust them."

"Why not?"

"I think they're plotting to steal our room."

"I don't want to go if you're not there," Brittany murmured, while fixing a suspicious glance at Rachel who was pulling Quinn up from off the ground.

"I'll go, too."

"No, 'cos you'll get upset and shout at strangers."

"That almost never happens any more, and I just want to spend the day with you."

"You mean like a date?" Brittany asked. Santana noticed she raised her voice so the others could hear her and fixed her with a large, blue eyed, hopeful gaze. "Will you go on a date with me? Tomorrow. We've never been on a date," Brittany realised.

"We've been on loads of dates," Santana hissed, now that everyone was paying their conversation careful attention, again. What the hell was up with Brittany getting all serious, serious all of a sudden.

"Hmmm, but they weren't called dates. I want an official date."

"I took you to Disney World!" Everyone gave her a pitying stare, Brittany included. "What?"

"It doesn't count if the date is a total disaster," Kurt pointed out.

"No one died, I'd call that successful."

"Whatever, Santana. You're doing everything backwards. You cant get married first and then get worried about a first date," Quinn snorted, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

"I'm not worried about anything. And will you shut up or go away? Or even better, both."

"It's no use, Santana. We all saw your wedding dvd." Mercedes pointed out. "We all know you're a sucker."

Fuuuuuuuck. Santana was about a second away from stabbing herself with the melting popsicle until, "Attention, team mates!" Rachel interrupted. Santana had never been so happy to hear Rachel's voice in her life. "Enough of one of Santana's emotional crisis for today. I've done exstensive researcha nd according to Google maps, just over this hill is where we'll practice. We're far enough away from cover so that if any spies from rival choirs pass us by or try to sneak up on us we'll be able to see them."

"The other choirs will be rehearsing indoors in their air conditioned studios, away from the bugs," said Kurt, flicking a flying beetle from his shoulder, "And sticky, screaming children and wet dogs." He shuddered as a dog burst out of the lake where it had been swimming in circles frantically chasing a lazy duck, ran straight for them and shook it's heavy coat close enough to Mike and Finn to soak them.

"C'mon guys," Mr Schue tried to regain control before Rachel took over completely. "We've got two first round numbers to perfect and we'll run through the showcase one's as well, even though we'll have another day to get those down if-"

"Ahem."

"Hey!"

"Sorry," he responded to the outcries. "When, we place in the finals." The group let out a cheer.

Will watched them with pride as they went about rehearsing acapella without the aid of any instruments and put their all into the numbers, clearly loving every second of performance.

Finn drummed on the railings, park bench and trash can with a couple of sticks. Artie beat boxed, Mike and Brittany free styled, gliding then popping and locking to the beat as the rest began to sing.

As Finn closed his eyes and hammered down harder with the sticks on his makeshift drum kit, Brittany stopped and watched as his arms moved frantically, his head bobbed wildly and it all happened... in time to the beat. She realised, he could dance.

Brittany nudged Mike and they both watched, Mike nodding excitedly with a grin as he realised what she was telling him. It was better late than never but it was about time Finn had a dancing lesson.

"Hey," Brittany stood next to him. "I got something to show you. Give me a beat."

"Huh?" Finn gaped cluelessly.

"You know, a four four rock beat. Just count it."

"1-2-3-4," unsure, he began to count. "1-2-3-4."

Brittany nodded, "Keep going." She performed some moves they had just been practising and moved in time to his counting.

"Dancing is like drumming," she explained. "You've just gotta feel the beat." Catching on to what she was doing, Mike stood on his other side and joined in. "1-2-3-4," they counted together. "Leg, leg, arm, arm, leg, arm, leg, hands. 1-2-3-4."

The rest of the group gathered around, eager to join in but with their attention on him Finn soon fumbled and miss-stepped. "Damn, I cant do it! It's too late to teach me to dance, I cant do it!" He threw his arms up and began to walk away, frustration written all over his face.

Brittany grabbed his arm and turned him to face her, the sincerity in her eyes earning her a reprieve from his petulant temper. "One more time. Only this time, close your eyes, and then listen to my voice. Now, start up the beat again."

He sighed but followed her command. "1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4."

"Keep it going." His head began to nod in time to the beat. "Leg on the on the one and move your shoulders with it, like you're using the bass drum. Left arm on the three, like the snare."

She started off tapping the limbs she wanted him to move but soon stopped as he caught on. "One and two and three and four. Leg and two and arm and four. Say it with me." They kept the beat together for a while until she said: "Open your eyes." He kept moving but opened his eyes warily to see Mike and Brittany standing alongside him mirroring his movements.

"Dude," Sam gasped. "You're moving. Like, your limbs are moving together, all coordinated."

"Shit Finn, you're dancing," Puck stared in amazement.

"What the hell?"

"Someone video it, quick!" Mike nudged him teasingly while smiling proudly at his friend.

"How did you do that?" Finn grinned excitedly at his teacher as she held up her hand for a high five. The whole group pounced on them and they all fell to the floor in a failed high five pile up.

"It just clicked, watching you drumming and moving. I've got a drum kit but I'm only allowed to use it when my mom's not home," her head dipped sadly, "And when Santana's not over. Lord Tubbington chewed my drumsticks, I tried using bread sticks instead but they broke and when Santana found out..." she dropped her voice. "She got a bit upset." Brittany gulped at the memory. "Actually, she went crazy saying I was wasting the food of the gods and confiscated them. She even took the crumbs."

"I've got some spare drumsticks you can have," Finn smiled at her. "I'm not saying I can dance but, it makes a bit more sense now. Thanks Brittany."

"You're welcome," she beamed back. "Let's try again and work out something for the group number."

Rachel watched them with something akin to jealously flashing behind her eyes. She and Finn were currently 'on' again but it had been a bumpy year of break ups and make ups. Even thought Brittany's track record for the year had been pure gold, with her being totally committed to Santana, Rachel was still slightly suspicious.

Santana caught her watching them and with only a slight rise of one eyebrow she forced Rachel to flush and look away.

"One more time, Mr Schue! We need to incorporate Finn's new, last minute dancing..., for want of a better word, skills."

Mr Schuester sighed. "One more wont hurt I guess. But that's it the last one and then we deserve pizza. Acres and acres of pizza."

They soon gathered a crowd as they did a full run through. Only this time, under watchful eyes and honestly earned and well deserved support, they stepped up their performance a gear as they went through their routines. They span round into final positions to loud cheering and round of applause from their impromptu audience who had all watched happily on.

"Once more?" Rachel asked, hopefully basking in the attention the crowd were lavishing on them.

"No, Rachel. There is such a thing as over rehearsing. We are going to relax this evening and not worry about a thing," Mr Schuester tried to stand his ground.

"But we've an audience. We cant let them down."

"No more, Rachel!"

"God, you're like a tiny little drill sergeant, buzzing in a tin." Kurt groaned his exhaustion. "That's enough or we won't be able to move tomorrow."

"That's it then," Rachel murmured. "No more practice, no more rehearsal. The next time we do this it'll be the real thing." It was a sobering thought.

"We're ready," Finn smiled at her.

"If Rachel thinks we're ready, then I guess we might be ready," Kurt deigned to agree. "Are we ready?"

With a glance to the disbanding audience, Rachel smiled.

On the walk back out of the park Brittany gave Santana a piggy back which ended up as a race with Mike who had Tina on his back. The rest of the club sauntered along enjoying the relaxing atmosphere of the park and watched the people whiz by on roller blades, cyclists, joggers and dog walkers.

Tired out after a hard days rehearsing under the watchful eye of perfectionist glee club captain, Santana slipped down off Brittany's back and walked alongside her. Brittany's gaze lingered for a while on a middle aged couple wearing matching tracksuits as they jogged under a bridge and out of view and she grabbed Santana's hand, swinging their arms between them.

"We should get matching t-shirts, hers and hers," she mused, her eyes still on the couple and oblivious to the way Santana's eyes widened at her thought. Santana looked horrified then mustered up a non committal, "Really?"

"That's a brilliant idea." Quinn stuck her head over their shoulders from where she was walking behind them with Mercedes, who was trying not to snort aloud with laughter. "I'll go get them for you, those tourist shops should sell some good ones! Maybe with the Statue of Liberty wearing rainbow robes." Quinn pushed past Santana, eager to annoy her after the embarrassment she'd suffered earlier. Santana grabbed her quickly before she could get away and held her back, tightly gripping her wrist.

"No, don't," she growled.

"I insist." Quinn tried to wrestle free from Santana's grip.

"I cant let you do that."

"No really what are friends for? I'll even pay for them."

"I hate you," Santana forced out between gritted teeth.

"Santana," Brittany whispered into her ear. With the dazed girl's full attention she gave her a teasingly sweet smile. "I was kidding. Breathe."

Santana let out a visible sigh of relief.

Later that evening, back at the hotel Santana put up a hand to stop Rachel from following them into her and Brittany's room. "Uh, and where do you think you're going?"

"In here."

"Your sense of direction must be really fucked. Maybe it's because you're so low down to the ground. This is our room."

She looked even further taken aback as Quinn stepped up behind Rachel clearly about to follow her. Santana crossed her arms blocking the doorway completely and put on scowl number three. "Explain."

"Quinn," Brittany sighed. "I'm not gonna lick your stretch marks. I'm just putting that out there."

"I don't have any, anymore!"

"Mr Schue!" Rachel shouted down the hall to the coach to come and rescue them before events spiralled any more out of control.

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry I may have forgotten to mention this but, tonight you girls will have to share your room with Rachel and Quinn."

"Hell no."

"Why?"

"The management said they need 24 hours to repair the damage from the mornings 'rehearsal' and there are no spare rooms. You've got two queen sized beds it wont hurt to share for one night."

"This is one of your jokes, right, Mr Schue? Cos it ain't funny. So it must be one of yours."

"Sorry," he shrugged, attempting to appear apologetic. "It's only for the one night."

Rachel and Quinn pushed past a disgruntled Santana and threw their bags on the one bed which obviously hadn't been used the previous night by either one of the girls.

Out of the corner of her eye Quinn thought she saw a smirk ghost across Santana's face but when she turned, it was gone and all she got was a snappy, "What are you staring at?" She turned back to her bag, suspicions aroused.

Santana rolled her eyes as Rachel began to chatter. "You should have taken me with you on your night time outing instead of assaulting Quinn. For future reference, I can actually cry on demand." Her face crumpled and she began to sob brokenly.

Santana's eyes widened in horror. "What the hell? Get out of my room!"

"Santana!" Brittany came out of the bathroom and tapped her gently on the arm. "What have you done to Rachel? She hasn't been here for two minutes and you made her cry!"

With an exasperated sigh, Santana entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Quinn shouted after her. "Never mind, one day Brittany can lick your stretch marks, Santana!" Like hell was she going to let the cling-ons use her bathroom before her.

After what was a painful amount of time for Santana, all the girls were in bed and Brittany reached up and flicked off the light.

"Goodnight Brittany," Rachel sighed sleepily.

"Uh, goodnight," Brittany replied.

"Goodnight Quinn," Rachel offered.

"I told you not to do that, now go to sleep," was the reply.

"Goodnight Santana" she continued, unperturbed by the lacklustre responses she was getting.

"You have got to be kidding me."

After a few minutes the peace was shattered with a moan. "Oh God, Britt. More, right there. Harder!" Santana gasped loudly even though Brittany had only innocently wrapped her arm around her waist. The effect was somewhat ruined by Brittany giggling uncontrollably as Santana writhed next to her under the covers in her attempt to piss off Quinn.

"I swear to God, Santana. If you two have sex with us in the room the whole world will know who was responsible for the anonymous barf in the 2009 Cheerios trophy," Quinn snapped, into the darkness.

"You cant prove anything."

"DNA evidence. Coach has the resources, all she needs is the inclination."

"We should all attempt to get the recommended eight hours of rest or our performance may suffer tomorrow. We all need our sleep, you and Brittany included."

"If you don't shut up you wont wake up in the morning and I'll take your solo."

"If you don't shut up I'll get Brittany to swap beds."

Brittany hummed thoughtfully, as though considering the suggestion. With a huff Santana turned over and snuggled into Brittany's side.

"Rachel, stop kicking me," Quinn hissed.

"Stop hogging all the covers!" Rachel pulled the blankets from where Quinn had a vice like grip on them. There was a squeal and a thud and judging from the Quinn like snicker from the bed it was Rachel who had lost the battle and landed on the floor.

"Do you two mind not doing that while we're in the room?" Santana deadpanned into Brittany's shoulder. "Have a little respect."

There was further rustling and huffing and then everyone seemed to settle down.

Quinn could hear a gentle slap every now and then and a whispered, "Stop it," as Brittany batted away Santana's roaming hands. There was some whispering and giggling and then eventually silence.

Until Rachel began to snore.

"Fuck. My. Life." Santana breathed out loud with Quinn saying the exact same thing in her head.

Early the next morning Santana stood over Quinn and Rachel's bed and snapped a photo with her phone. Both girls had their arms around each other, Rachel's head was tucked under Quinn's chin and her face was planted comfortably in Quinn's breasts.

"Puck will pay big bucks for this," Santana whispered to Brittany. "Maybe more if we tell him we offered it to Jewfro first. We could be set for life."

"Aww they're so cute," Brittany smiled at the sight in front of them.

"Whatever," Santana rolled her eyes as she took another snap. "Let's go mess with their toiletries."

A/N There won't be proper Faberry. I know some of you want that but I'm not a true Faberry believer, I just think they're funny together.
Also, Yes to the anon who asked, I do have tumblr. The link is in my profile. It's imaginatively titled, killercereal.