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Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter Eight
It was the night of the McKinley High's first home game and Brittany could barely contain her excitement. She bounced around the house practicing her cheers and dragging Santana into playful little dances, making the brunette laugh and bounce along with her.
After Brittany almost knocked over a lamp with a high kick, Santana finally decided to get her girl to the game even though they'd be early and Santana usually didn't do early. But Brittany had way too much energy and Santana hoped the expansive stadium would give the blonde girl a large enough space to express herself without harm.
A short set of stairs led to their seats in the first row. Santana was happy with their position. Not because it provided the best view of the field—she really couldn't care less about the game now that she was off the Cheerios and the Titans record didn't matter. She claimed to like the first row because she could prop her legs up on the railing and stretch out. Truthfully, though, it was so Brittany wouldn't have to be uncomfortable and squish her long legs behind some doof all night.
She was pretty sure they were going to piss off everyone behind them, though. Brittany had written and choreographed a total of six cheers, each requiring the girls to jump out of their seats and shake about, and knowing Brittany, she was going to bust them out whenever she felt like it, regardless of what was happening on the field.
Santana shrugged. Fuck 'em.
Once they settled in, Brittany jumped up quickly. "Gotta pee. Want anything from the concessions while I'm up?" She bounced up and down at an increasingly fast rate.
"Nah. I'm good. Thanks, B."
Once Brittany was out of sight, Santana turned to watch the Titans pre-game prep. Some stretched. Some tossed footballs around. She could see Finn in deep conversation with Bieste. With most of the team in pads and helmets, she couldn't really make out the one player she tried to tell herself she wasn't looking for.
Then a bullet of a football was hurled across the field, landing forcefully in the chest of a waiting receiver, catching her attention. "Whoa."
Santana watched number 8 throw another bomb downfield before the jock took her helmet off and shook out her long, dark hair. Landon. Santana's breath caught. In pads and form-fitting jersey, Landon was stunning. She couldn't believe she hadn't spotted the girl right off. That body definitely did not belong to a dude. Landon's long legs were on clear display, and the way the leggings hugged the tall girl's ass made Santana swallow hard. She was curvy and hard, broad and slender in all the right places. There could definitely be some perks to this football thing.
Landon pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, dropping her helmet momentarily before picking it up and holding it at her side. After a moment, the receiver, Puck, jogged over and clasped her hand roughly, pulling their chests together in a friendly bump. When they separated, Landon shoved him away lightheartedly, laughing at the mohawked boy when he wagged his eyebrows and nodded over to the cheerleaders stretching on the sidelines. She scanned the field, her eyes lifting up into the stadium until she saw her. She tapped Puck on the chest a final time and, helmet in hand, jogged over to the bleachers.
Santana hands were sweating. She tried to rub them on her jeans discreetly before the jock approached.
"Hey," Landon said quietly. She reached a hand up to grab one of the bars of the railing that separated them. With the raised platform, she had to look up to meet Santana's gaze. "Glad you made it."
Santana stood and leaned her forearms against the rail. She nodded simply.
"We okay?" the tall jock asked.
Santana sighed, "yea, we're good." She looked down and got caught in the other girl's glittering eyes.
Landon moved her hand slightly, brushing the side of her pinky against Santana's forearm. They stared at each other for a long moment before Santana had to turn away.
"So you getting in the game tonight?"
Landon sighed and shook her head, "I don't know." She turned her back to lean against the railing and look out onto the field.
"Why? You're really good."
Landon blushed at the compliment. "Bieste's going with last year's starters. So I might see some play if we're either way ahead or way behind. Sucks." She turned to look at Santana over her shoulder. "How do you know I'm good anyway?"
It was Santana's turn to blush. "Just saw you tossing the ball around with Puck."
"That so?" Landon smirked. "Checking me out, huh?" she asked with a wink.
Santana just shook her head at the girl. She was so fucking charming. "You got a good arm. Much better than Finn, anyway."
"Yea, well, not my call. But I'm working on it." A long, loud whistle caught the jock's attention. "I better go. Enjoy the game." Landon smiled shyly.
"You too." Santana laughed lightly. "I mean you've got a great seat to watch the game if you're riding the bench the whole time."
"Funny," Landon deadpanned. She brushed her finger a final time against Santana's arm before jogging back onto the field to join her teammates. "Later, Lopez."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
As she suspected, Landon spent the entire game on the sidelines. She twitched at every overthrown pass and dropped ball, white-knuckling the helmet at her side in frustration. The game was tight and Coach kept the first string on. When Finn missed the receiver again, it took all of Landon's willpower not to run over to Bieste and beg her to put her in. But Landon wouldn't complain or second guess. She'd do her job. Whatever was asked.
A last minute touchdown gave the Titans a 13-7 victory and Landon celebrated with the team. She wouldn't complain.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Santana hated Mondays. It signaled another long week of posturing, of playing stupid social games, of Rachel fucking Berry. It was only Brittany's enthusiastic chattering next to her that calmed her nerves. When she opened her locker, a piece of paper flittered out, landing at her feet. She retrieved it and read the simple note before folding it up quickly and shoving it in her pocket, hoping Brittany hadn't seen it.
Meet me in the girls' locker at lunch.
- L
Luckily, the blonde was too engrossed in planning the next Fondue for Two to notice.
Santana was conflicted. She didn't know where she stood or what she wanted from either girl.
Brittany had been her only desire for as long as she could remember desiring anything. And she thought confessing her love for the beautiful girl would suddenly bring clarity to her life. She had been wholly unprepared for Brittany's rejection. And as gentle as Brittany had tried to be with her, she wasn't equipped to handle the bone-aching hurt. Truthfully, a part of Santana had never recovered from that moment. In quiet hours, the scene ran on a loop in her head, making her chest constrict just as it did the first time. Everything about that moment reaffirmed her deepest fear. That she just wasn't good enough for Brittany. Even after all they'd been through and shared, she wasn't enough.
When Brittany and Artie broke up, Santana pieced her broken heart together and tried again, but Brittany needed more from her. Deserved more from her. It wasn't enough that she had Santana's heart in private moments. Brittany wanted all of Santana all the time, and that meant no more hiding, particularly from herself. And Santana tried. She swore she did. She wanted to give Brittany everything she needed. But her bruised and insecure heart wasn't ready. And looking into those pleading blue eyes only broke her further.
Now there was this new, unexpected variable. Landon. It was so easy to be around the jock. To let the other girl flirt and wink and lead whatever dance they were (or had been) tentatively exploring. It was effortless with Landon. The charming athlete didn't look at her with expectations in her eyes—with the pain of broken promises flitting behind her irises. She simply took what Santana could give, and there was no history of rejection and disappointment to overcome.
Landon made it easy for Santana. And what Santana wanted more than anything right now was for something in her life to be easy.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Santana turned the corner around a set of lockers to find Landon dressed in a sports bra and a pair of tight-fitting men's boxer briefs, towel-dried hair falling haphazardly around her shoulders.
"Men's boxers, really?" she chuckled. Landon turned toward the sound, smiling broadly when she saw Santana leaning causally against a locker. "Are you like trying to fulfill every lesbian stereotype?"
"Hey, I told you there wasn't a closet big enough for me," Landon spread her arms wide. "I'm like the dyke poster child," she said proudly before pausing briefly to pull on a pair of weathered jeans ripped at the knees and back pockets. "Actually, I have this irrational fear..." she trailed off and blushed. Did she really just let that out?
"What irrational fear?" Santana was amused. "Mutant panties?"
"Oh you're hilarious," she responded sarcastically. "Okay, don't laugh," the tall girl pointed a finger at Santana and tried giving her a stern look before smiling sheepishly. "I have this fear that I'm going to end up in public without pants on and I'd much rather be stuck in boxers than have my bare ass hanging out of some lacy thong. I mean, boxers are like shorts so I wouldn't feel that exposed, you know?"
Santana stared at the girl for a moment before breaking out laughing. Landon pulled on a Metallica shirt and turned to lean against a locker. She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. "Are you about done now?"
"How would you find yourself in public with no pants on?" Santana breathed through her laughter.
"That's just it! You can't prepare for stuff like that! Like, what if there's an accident and I have to use my pants to make a tourniquet, or-. Okay, you're having way too much fun here."
Santana couldn't help it. That was the most ridiculous thing she ever heard! She wiped at the tears building up in the corner of her eyes. "Okay, first off, people don't generally make tourniquets out of whole pairs of pants. Haven't you ever seen 'I Shouldn't Be Alive'? Secondly, like, how likely is that? I mean have you ever, even once found yourself in public in your underwear?"
Landon's eyes flickered before she looked down at her still bare feet. Santana could see her fighting a small grin and she gasped. "Oh my God, you so have! Okay, spill. What was this great pants-less event?" She smirked.
"Okay, I may have been chased out of a girl's house and had to run home in my underwear." She paused, sitting down to put on her shoes. "Twice. Two different girls though." She shrugged as if the additional information might make a difference in how Santana responded.
"No way!" She couldn't stop laughing at the image of Landon streaking out of some girl's house in lacy panties, clutching the rest of her clothes in her arms. "Like, was someone actually chasing you?"
"The first time it was the girl's old man went after me. Dude actually came at me with a fucking baseball bat! The second time it was," Landon hesitated. "Okay look, I told you I don't make it my business to go after other people's girls, and I don't, but that doesn't mean they always tell me they're involved."
"Oh. My. God. Some girl's girlfriend ran you off in your underwear?"
Landon looked down sheepishly. "Boyfriend."
Santana's jaw dropped. Landon raised her hands, "it totally wasn't my fault! She didn't say anything, I swear!" She shook her head. "Anyway, I've learned to keep my ass covered, so to speak."
Santana didn't remember the last time she laughed so hard. It felt really good, and she sighed contently, catching the other girl's eyes.
"So, what's up?" Santana asked, the eye contact making her stomach clench. She needed to refocus on what brought her here in the first place.
Landon pushed off against the lockers and approached Santana slowly. "I wanted to talk to you about Friday." Before Santana could protest, Landon continued. "I didn't mean to imply anything about your relationship with Brittany. Well, I guess I did more than imply something but I didn't mean to upset you" she rushed on. "You're right. I don't know anything about you and Brittany." She leaned next to Santana. "I shouldn't have assumed anything and I apologize for making you uncomfortable."
"Whatever. It doesn't even matter. Let's just drop the whole thing, okay?" Santana didn't want to think about her increasingly complex relationship with Brittany, and she certainly didn't want to discuss it with Landon.
"So, you're single then? Like really?"
Santana nodded, her eyes downcast.
"How is that even possible?" Landon smiled broadly at the girl. "Okay then, how about this? You go out on a date. With me."
The small brunette sighed. "So you still think I'm gay?"
"No, actually," Landon lifted Santana's chin, bringing Santana's eyes up to meet hers. "I think you're beautiful." Santana held her breath.
After a brief stare off, Landon pulled back slightly, putting on her most charming grin. "And I would never forgive myself if I went the whole year and didn't at least try to get in your pants." Landon winked before continuing. "Come on, you don't have to be gay to want to get up on this. I'm like a total stud!"
Santana shook her head but couldn't help smiling at the girl's bravado. "So, what would this date be like? It wouldn't be all lesbian, would it? Like, I'm so not going to an Ani DiFranco concert."
Landon laughed openly at that. "Well, I thought we'd start the night at a spoken word poetry reading; it's open mic night. Then we could head over to Vegan Naturals for a quinoa salad for two. And maybe we'd round the night off at the animal shelter where we'd adopt a three-legged dog that we'd name Scout. I figure we can save the U-Haul for the second date."
Santana was not amused.
"Look, it's a date, Santana," Landon laughed. "It means you get dressed up in something super sexy, I come pick you up looking equally hot. We have dinner, maybe see a movie, I pay for everything. It's a really sweet deal for you." She paused. "Did I mention I'm like really hot?"
The smaller girl couldn't help but be charmed by the jock.
"Come on," Landon urged quietly, nudging Santana with her shoulder.
Santana ducked her head and made Landon wait a minute before nodding.
"Yes?"
Another nod.
"Yes!" Landon pumped her fist. She picked up her duffle and threw an arm across Santana's shoulders, guiding them out of the locker room. "It's gonna be awesome. Oh, and whether we end the night pants-less is totally up to you, by the way."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
"If I have to hear one more word about you and the boy-child singing another lame-ass duet I swear I'm gonna stab you in the throat with my eyebrow pencil!" Santana could not take another minute of Rachel prattling on and on, trying to defend a method that had failed royally. Twice! "We need to dole out solos and showcase individual talent who are not Rachel Berry."
"Santana," Rachel continued as calmly as she could. She didn't like the grip Santana had on that eyebrow pencil. "We all know you are a fine soloist but being a good singer is not enough to win Nationals. Let's face it," Rachel paused and looked at the group from her stance at the front of the room, "Finn and I are the only ones with the stage presence and experience to win. Sure, we can do whatever we want in lead ups and pep rallies, but when it comes to the big shows, you," she pointed at Santana, "need us," she pointed to her chest as Finn was sitting in the back row trying to stay out of the fray.
"That's it," Santana threw her arms up and stormed out of her seat, lunging toward Rachel.
"Okay, okay!" Schuester stepped between the two girls. "This is getting us nowhere! We are a team. We need to make decisions as a team for the best of the team."
Rachel huffed once before responding, "then let Landon decide." Her suggestion caught everyone off guard, especially the tall girl in question.
Landon had been lounging in the front row, her long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. She'd been watching the exchange with amusement, chuckling lightly to herself. She didn't think she'd be pulled into the conflict so directly. She sat up at the sound of her name, tucking her legs in and pointing to her chest. "Me?"
"Yeah," Finn interjected. "Why her?" He didn't appreciate the power Rachel was giving the new girl.
"Look," Rachel approached Landon, "by now you've seen all of us perform. And being new, you're not mired in the politics of glee club. You haven't shown any interest in having a solo yourself so I know you're not just going suggest what's best for you. Let's face it," she stood back and focused on the group as a whole, "we all have individual stakes in what we perform. We need an informed party that isn't out for themselves." Rachel approached Landon again. "You're the most impartial person here. I have amazing instincts and I trust that you'll base your suggestion on what's best for all of us. So what do you think?"
Schue, curious about Rachel's proposal, jumped in. "I think that's a fair idea. Not that what Landon says is final," he cautioned. "But I think it'd be helpful to hear an outside perspective," he paused. "Not that we consider you an outsider," he smiled awkwardly at her.
"Um, well I don't know much about show choir really." Landon was thoughtful. She didn't really want to get involved, but they were all looking at her expectantly. She sighed, "I guess a duet would be the best way to showcase the most talent, and two great singers really tearing up a kick ass song together would also highlight the team aspect."
"Yes!" Rachel pumped her fist. Santana threw her arms up and rolled her eyes.
"And I think Rachel and Santana should do it." There was shocked silence for a split-second and Landon lowered her eyes, focusing on her clasped hands in her lap.
"What?" Rachel gawked at her. "Me and Santana?"
"Dude, that's so not gonna happen." Santana shook her head and crossed her arms.
"Yea, like what about me?" Finn jumped in.
"Hold on. Let her explain," Schuester implored.
Landon looked up and addressed the group. "From what I gather, you've done the whole female-male power ballad thing and it hasn't really worked so far. Frankly, it's tired. And you know every choir with strong male and female leads will do the same." The shock was giving way to interest, and the group looked to Landon to continue. "We're lucky to have really kickass female singers and I think Rachel's and Santana's voices could work really well together. They're both strong performers and they both really want to win." Landon shrugged. "It'll make us stand out. And," she leaned back and stretched her legs out once again, "I think 'Edge of Glory' would make an awesome duet for the two of you."
Rachel met Santana's glare. "A duet? Together?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
"I'm gonna kill you," Santana forced through clenched teeth. She approached Landon after glee, not giving the jock a chance to leave her seat.
Landon smiled up at her. "Come on, Lopez. You know you guys would kick the shit outta a duet."
"Well, duh. That's not the point. It's Rachel fucking Berry. You know she's gonna micromanage the whole frickin' thing. And I swear to God, the moment she says 'it's what Barbra would do' I'm gonna rip her eyelids off and feed them to her goldfish."
"Wow. That's…disturbingly graphic and specific."
Santana sighed and leaned against the wall next to a still seated Landon. "I can't believe you just hooked me into spending every afternoon with Rachel fucking Berry."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
"San!" Brittany rushed up to Santana who was retrieving books from her locker. "You have to come over tonight! I just got the MJ Experience and I'm so gonna kick your butt on it!" She bounced in place. "I haven't even opened it yet. I'm giving you a non-lumpy field to play-"
"Level playing field."
"So when I kick your butt you can't say I cheated!"
Santana closed her locker slowly. Shit. Tonight was her date with Landon. "I can't tonight, B. I'm sorry." Brittany stopped bouncing and pouted. "I'll totally come over early tomorrow and we can play all day. Then you'll be able to kick my butt as much as you want." She smiled hopefully at Brittany.
"I guess." Brittany's eyes were still downcast and she rubbed the toe of her sneaker into the floor.
"I'll bring snacks and movies for later."
The toe stopped digging into the linoleum. A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth but she still wouldn't look up.
"I'll stay the night even. If you want."
And there it was. A full-fledged, wide-ass, shit-eating, I-so-played-you smile from Brittany.
Santana shook her head and laughed.
"I think that would be okay," Brittany informed her cheerily. "So what are you doing Friday, anyway?"
Shit. "Um, I told Landon we'd hang out, that's all."
Brittany's smile fell. She clenched her jaw so hard she thought she might break a molar. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know." Santana tried to be really casual. "Probably grab something to eat. Maybe catch a movie. I don't know really." Damn it, that totally sounds like a date. Fuck! That's because it is a date, moron!
"That totally sounds like a date," Brittany echoed unknowingly. She crossed her arms and Santana could swear she saw light blue eyes go dark and stormy in an instant.
Brittany's nostrils flared. She wanted to stomp her foot, preferably on Santana's so the brunette would know exactly how she felt about it, but she wasn't a child and if she did stomp Santana's foot she'd feel bad about it and Santana didn't deserve her sympathy in this moment.
"B, I'm just trying to get to know her. That's all. You're always telling me to be nicer and how important it is to make friends with the gleeks, and-"
"Not with her!" She couldn't help it. She stomped. But she did refrain from making contact with Santana's foot.
"B, just give her a chance." Santana reached for Brittany's hands to calm the girl down, but the dancer was too fast. She spun on her heel and walked with quick, determined steps down the hall.
"Britt!" Santana called after her but the blonde never wavered and she was out of sight in seconds.
Shit! Santana took her phone out and texted Brittany.
Tomorrow. I promise. Just us.
