A/N: Semi-drunken prompt from kiarcheo; Rachel and Brittany take dance lessons together, Rachel hurts her ankle/leg, and the next day at school Brittany carries her around, not letting her walk. Thanks!


"Hey," Rachel smiled at the tall blonde who came up behind her, sliding her tennis shoes into the cubbyhole to the left of Rachel's.

Blinking, a wide smile stretched across Brittany's face, and she leaned forward, drawing Rachel into a close, tight hug. "Rache," she giggled, "That's not your normal dance wear!"

Blushing but reciprocating the hug, Rachel stepped back. "You like it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "I decided to try something new." And indeed, instead of her usual leotard and workout Eighties socks, she had tried something more like what Brittany always wore: a tank top and loose, movable sweat shorts.

Brittany's eyes trailed over Rachel's body, her smile growing wider. "Do you even have to ask?" she grinned, turning away to pull her Cheerios top off, exchanging it for a tank top, "You totally rock my style!"

Turning her eyes away from the sudden expanse of white-tan skin with a smattering of freckles, Rachel smiled to herself. At school she may be made fun of for her perfectly fine fashion, but here… Brittany was a doll.

Waiting for Brittany to get finished changing, occupying herself with mentally running through the dance steps she had been assigned for that class' public performance, Rachel accompanied the blonde to the dance studio proper.

She didn't know what it was, but as Brittany's bright blue eyes met hers, crinkling at the corners with an infectious smile, Rachel had a good feeling about that day.


Forty five minutes later, Rachel had completely forgotten about that prediction. Crumpled to the hard wood floor, staring at the rapidly swelling ankle of her left foot, Rachel didn't even have time to register pain before Brittany had swept her up into her arms.

"Rache," Brittany gasped, arms cradling her back and under her knees, "We totally need to get you some ice!"

"I agree," their dance teacher hurried over, "Rachel, honey, how does it feel?"

Rachel stared up into Brittany's face. "Uhm…?" she started, then winced, gasping, her arms coming up to wrap tightly around Brittany's neck. "It's pounding," she whispered into Brittany's shoulder.

Brittany shifted, slowly swinging Rachel around. "I got this, Mrs. Svanson. The coffee shop downstairs should have some ice. They owe me a free drink after they refused to give Lord Tubbington his vanilla latte last month anyway."

Whimpering even with as soft as Brittany tried to be, Rachel allowed her to carry her down the stairs as the elevators 'weren't coming fast enough to be worth waiting for'. "I'm so embarrassed," she muttered into Brittany's tank top, "Are sure you're okay carrying me...?"

"Don't be silly." Giving Rachel a determined glare, Brittany paused outside of the glass doors to the second location of The Lima Bean. She leaned down, staring directly into Rachel's eyes, "It's not like you're fat or anything. And you're my friend, right?"

Even through the pain from her ankle, Rachel found that she could smile. "Right," she blushed, her thumb absently stroking the back of Brittany's shoulder, "We're friends."

"Great. Now, let's make like penguins and demand the ice!"

Hiding her face in Brittany's shoulder again, Rachel groaned silently but nodded anyway. Ice sounded too nice to decline on the basis of her friend's eccentricities.


The next morning, Rachel awoke to Brittany sitting on the foot of her bed. Squeaking, jerking before she could stop herself, Rachel stared at the blonde. "Brittany," she gasped, snapping her sheets up to her chest.

"Hi Rachie," Brittany beamed, "How do you feel?"

Feeling the low throbbing in her ankle that, while less than right after her accident happened, was still painful, Rachel let out a deep breath of air. "Uhm…?" she asked. She was still trying to blink sleep from her eyes because – Brittany was in her bedroom? How had she gotten in?

But before she could answer, Brittany had already slid closer, her hands pushing under Rachel's blankets. "Let me see," she hummed, barely taking notice of the pink monkey pajamas Rachel was wearing. Locating her left ankle, she yanked up the pajama leg. "Ohh," she frowned, "It still doesn't look very comfortable…

"Okay!" she perked up, "Good thing I'm here. Shower?"

"Wha-what?" Rachel gasped, shrieking as strong arms wrapped around her body, pulling her against a firm body, hands clutching at Brittany's shoulders.

"Shower," Brittany repeated, giggling, dipping her head so her nose brushed Rachel's, "I'm here to help you!"

Staring up at Brittany, Rachel slowly, slowly smiled back, incredibly fakely.


"No, no," Rachel tried, "You need to go to your own classes. I'm fine, and I will not be responsible for you failing any courses!"

"Rachel," Brittany soothed, smiling merrily, "I'm going to be failing anyway. You won't hurt my grades any more. Okay?"

Rachel's mouth dropped open. "Okay? No, that's not okay! Brittany – "

But Brittany had already swung around, smoothly making her way toward Rachel's first class.

"Brittany," Rachel mumbled, blushing at the looks she knew they were getting, "I can walk."

"And I can carry you. It's no big deal." Squeezing Rachel closer to her body, Brittany dropped a soft kiss to Rachel's forehead. "You're cute when you worry," she grinned.

Rachel's blush deepened, and she lapsed into embarrassed silence.


"Okay, no," Rachel insisted, tugging on Brittany's sleeve, "I can get my own lunch!"

"And I can get it for you," Brittany easily responded. Holding Rachel securely by her arm around her back and curving to support under her knees, the blonde smiled reassuringly down at her, "Now, milk or brown cow milk? No, wait." She furrowed her brow, "You don't eat animals. Okay! Juice?"

Touched despite herself, Rachel nodded. "Juice is fine," she sighed, telling herself, once again, that this wasn't going to do any worse to her already horrible (undeserved) reputation.

Brittany's smile almost made up for it.


"I'm telling you," Kurt gossiped loudly, not even trying to not be heard by Rachel and Brittany sitting down the table from him, "Something's going on."

"Mmhm," Mercedes concurred, nodding, "You don't have to tell me that. I'm in Rachel's English class. Brittany barely even let her sit in her own seat!"

"You mean like she has Rachel on her lap now?" Tina offered, and three sets of eyes swung to look at the two at the end of the table.

Trying her hardest to tune them out, Rachel blushed when Brittany swatted her hand away from the fork again, bringing the fork covered in wet, straggly vegetables up to Rachel's lips instead.

"Yummy?" the blonde grinned.

"Yummy…" Rachel answered weakly after chewing and swallowing. Doing a good job of ignoring the pain in her ankle, she shifted, tensing her palm on Brittany's thigh to lean over the table, reaching for the small bottle of water Brittany had bought her. But as her fingers brushed the plastic, Brittany's chest pressed into her back, her arm snaking around her waist.

"I got that," Brittany beamed, breath blowing directly against Rachel's ear, "Don't strain yourself. You're not spaghetti, remember?"

Rachel shivered. "I remember," she sighed, cheeks heating up again when Brittany placed a kiss directly onto her neck as she handed her the water bottle.

"See?" Kurt hissed, almost going into histrionics, "There's something there!"

"But…" Tina swallowed her bite of her turkey sandwich, "Are you sure it's more than just Rachel being hurt?"

Brittany's hand cupped Rachel's hip, and the girl hummed happily, resting her chin on Rachel's head.

…It certainly seemed there was more than just Rachel being hurt. Sighing, Rachel took a bite of her salad, avoiding everyone's gaze. She was just happy Santana was out sick that day.

For her part, Brittany munched on her gummy bears and waited for Rachel to finish.


Stopping at Rachel's front door, Brittany looked expectant.

"Brittany?" Rachel asked, "I'll be fine from here on out. Though I appreciate your concern, I'll be fine within my own house."

Brittany's eyelids lowered. "You sure?" she asked.

Rachel smiled. Pushing until Brittany slooooowly, reluuuuuuctantly lowered her so her feet touched the ground for only the sixth time that day, she turned to insert her key into the lock. Once it was open, she turned back. "I'm sure," she squeezed Brittany's arm, showing the other girl that she could put her weight on her ankle without it sending her to her knees.

"Oh. Okay." Lower lip jutting out, Brittany sighed and mustered a smile. "Okay, then, hug?"

Rachel stepped forward, happily giving Brittany a hug that happened on their feet. "Thank you," she breathed, pressing a kiss to Brittany's cheek as she pulled away.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Smiling broadly, Rachel made to open her front door and slip inside…

…Except Brittany had caught her elbows, pulling her flush back against her, making her stumble forward with an unfortunate weight shift onto her sprained ankle. Gasping, Rachel slapped her hands onto Brittany's shoulders, falling into her arms.

Brittany studied her, sucking on her lower lip. "Really?" she asked hesitantly, dropping her head.

Rachel swallowed. "I…" she licked her lips, tilting her head up, "I may be able to change my mind…"

"Good," Brittany whispered into her lips, sliding her arms down to Rachel's waist to hug her close, "Because I'd rather be the one holding you than anyone else."

"Even myself?" Rachel asked, answering her own question when she allowed Brittany to sweep her back up into her arms, barely stopping their kissing to do so. Pushing the door open with her foot, Brittany grinned, kissing her harder and headed up towards Rachel's room.

Barely able to notice her ankle, Rachel gasped when Brittany dropped her onto her bed, moaning when she crawled on top of her. "Oh, okay," she breathed, smiling shyly up at her, "I like you holding me too…"

Brittany pressed a possessive kiss to her lips. "Awesome."

"Yeah," Rachel pulled Brittany down onto her, "Awesome."