CHAPTER 10

It was a regular sunny Sunday morning complete with a hot bowl of oatmeal, a Harry Potter movie marathon I found on tv, and no Sam when my phone began buzzing against the coffee table. I moved swiftly, abandoning the remote and sliding my nearly empty bowl onto the end table, as I lunged forward and eagerly snatched up the phone expecting it to be Santana since is the usual time she'd call on Sunday.

I had been meaning to call her about how her hand was, but for some weird reason every time I scrolled down to her name, my thumb hovering over her, I couldn't bring myself to make the call. I even tried texting, but the same thing would happen by the time I'd get to the send button.

Now I just hoped that she'd have the guts to make the call or send a text because for some reason, I didn't.

Sadly, no such luck.

Instead, the name Boss Lady appeared across the top of the screen and I hesitantly swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"Legs."

"Boobs."

"Excuse me?" Sue admonished, her voice dropping a few octaves at my reply, "Is that any way to greet your boss?"

"Oh, sorry! I thought we were listing our turn-ons.." I flushed as I leaned back against the couch and reached for the remote so Sue wouldn't hear Hedwig's theme playing in the background.

"Why in the hell would I ever discuss-you know what?-nevermind," She huffed in frustration, "There's a mandatory meeting today at the lounge at one, be there."

The line went dead before I could even get a word out. I instantly wondered what had her in such a rotten mood on such a nice day, but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. I glanced down at my phone to check the time: 11:30am, I still had some time to kill before finding out. I reached for my bowl of oatmeal and turned the volume on the tv back up as I settled in for Chamber of Secrets.

XXXX

I still hadn't gotten used to how strange Sloppy Babies looks when it's closed; so empty and dark like it isn't some kind of hotspot when the sun goes down. Upon walking in, I hadn't really seen anyone else and that had me a little nervous considering everything that happened last night and maybe this mandatory meeting was only meant for me.

However, as I neared the hostess stand I couldn't help but notice the soulful sounds coming from somewhere near the stage. It was a piano, by its resonating sound that seemed to echo off the walls, that was certain. The tune being played didn't sound like anything I heard during any of Quinn's previous performances, but I just shrugged and assumed that Brad was trying something new. As I was about to turn to head up to Sue's office, I glanced in his direction and realized that the usual scruffy-bearded guy who seem to always be perched on the bench with fingers at the ready wasn't there.

Instead, it was Santana.

All thoughts of continuing my journey upstairs vanished as I fell under her spell. With my foot still hovering above the first step of the stairs, I slowly turned away and began walking to the railing that separated the lobby from the seating area like I was being drawn to her.

She was facing away from me, but I could tell that long, brunette mane from anywhere. I always thought Santana had that kind of hair that begged to have someone comb their fingers through those wavy locks, like it just had to be admired, to be appreciated. My eyes drifted from her hair to her loose, relaxed shoulders and the straightness of her back which I found so surprising because the girl slouches non-stop.

I was still by the sloped stairs that led to the seating area so paralyzed that my hands had subconsciously curled into the cold metal of the railing as if I'd float off into the clouds if I let go. The tune she played was so sorrowfully beautiful that I couldn't move any further though I wanted nothing more than to get closer, to experience her closer. Being a dancer for as long as I have been, I've grown to appreciate great music and hearing what Santana was playing had me itching to move but dancing alone wouldn't seem right. Her song was such a sweetly sad one that I felt you'd just have to dance with a partner in order to do it any justice.

What was weird though was that I couldn't make out the tune, but it was oddly familiar like I've heard it before, not playing on the radio or anything but from somewhere else, I just couldn't remember.

I watched as Santana continued to play: her head gently rolling from side to side as her body seemed to sway just a tiny bit to the music while she kept her hands moving along the keys.

I briefly thought of her injured hand and wondered whether or not she was in pain considering she was playing with sore knuckles. She must've, I remember the swells of her skin and the pain in her eyes, there was no way she wasn't aching as she played.

But from where I stood, she looked so into it that even if she was in excruciating pain, her playing took precedence. She played through the soreness effortlessly, her right hand keeping this strangely familiar tune while her left worked to provide a rhythmic accompaniment.

I wanted nothing more than to walk around to the other side of the piano and watch because I bet she looked so peacefully beautiful. I bet her eyes were closed and her pouty lips were pressed into that soft smile she sometimes wears when we're watching tv together and she just looked genuinely happy; someone who played that well had to be genuinely happy, at least, while they were playing anyway.

A couple minutes later, I regained the use of my legs and silently weaved my way through the vacant seating area. I ended up taking a seat a few feet away from her, thankful that the chair was already pulled out so it wouldn't scrap against the floor and disturb her playing. I was still out of her sight, but now that I was closer, I could faintly hear her humming.

Suddenly I remembered where I heard the song before; all those times I've caught Santana humming in her kitchen or when we're behind the bar cleaning up or when she's tired but too stubborn to say we can finish an episode tomorrow or when she's waiting in a really long line behind a guy who's talking obnoxiously loud on his Bluetooth for a cup of coffee, it was always the same tune, this tune.

I sat there silently, smiling at the little ways she moved, reveling in the moment of clarity. It was kind of like when I first heard Quinn sing; how freaking stunned I was that she even could sing but then mind blown because she was amazing at it. The same went for Santana but it was even better because Santana didn't know she had an audience, she didn't have to amp herself up in order to put on a great show, she naturally did compared to Quinn who was used to being in that pressure cooker and performing for people. Santana's playing was so raw and exciting and beautiful and everything and I felt all these things just from listening to her play for only a few minutes!

But all good things must come to an end and after just one more minute of me sitting near her, she struck the keys out of frustration before letting out an agitated sigh then moved her good hand to snatch the sheet music set up in front of her on the music rack.

"That was pretty," I complimented as the silence fell around us causing her to flinch and look over her shoulder. When she saw it was only me, the new-found tension in her muscles dropped a little, and she gave me this half-smile while she swung her leg around to straddle the bench.

I tried to ignore the sudden desire to be that piano bench as I watched her gather her sheet music and set it down between her legs.

"I messed up.." She sighed and shook her head like she was disappointed, "There's errors that I need to fix and it's not even finished yet."

I just shrugged like all of that was irrelevant, "It was still pretty, even with your good hand all bandaged up like that." I jutted my chin in the direction of her hand that looked to be professionally wrapped.

This time she smiled back fully, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I replied cheerfully and watched hunch over to scribble something down on her papers, "Did you write that?"

"Yeah," She answered quietly then glanced over at me and smirked, "It's kind of my dirty little secret, writing music, so don't tell anyone."

"My lips are sealed," I promised and made the motion of locking my lips and throwing away the key. "Why don't you perform with Quinn? You'd be amazing up there, I mean, I only heard you play for a few minutes but I totally think you'd be great up there and you're way better looking than that old guy with the glasses who usually plays for Quinn."

"Nah, the limelight isn't for me." She chuckled with the shake of her head.

"What?" I gasped, shocked even, "Why not? You're so good!"

"It just isn't, Britt."

"If you try to tell me it's because you don't think you're good enough, that's crazy talk."

"No, that's not it." She snickered, not taking her eyes off her papers.

"Well then, what is it?" I asked, wiggling in my seat with anticipation, "Stage fright?"

She just glanced and pursed her lips

I decided not to press for more information after that, knowing Santana, it'll all come out in time. Besides, that was probably her way of giving me an answer anyway, "Well, does that song come with words too?"

She straightened her back and laid her palms flat against the bench as she spoke, "You know, funny thing about this song; I always hear it in my head, everywhere, all the damn time, in my dreams, when I wake up first thing in the afternoon, at the most random parts of the day, it haunts me. I can't help but feel like there should be words, you know? Like, it's just one of those songs that need a little something extra. I mean, not that the instrumental isn't enough because of course it could stand alone, I wrote the damn thing." She was rambling as her eyes remained fixed on her papers, but I found the whole thing mesmerizing. To see someone like Santana: someone who breezes through her days, flirting with whomever whenever, whose only rule in life is break rules if they need to be broken, so passionately aggravated over what? Music. "But I feel like there's something that needs to be explained and only words can do that."

"What do you think needs to be explained?" I asked softly, watching how caught up she was getting in her thoughts.

She just shook her head then shrugged helplessly, "I have no clue and it irritates the hell out of me. I'm tortured with this song, day in and day out, and I can't even think of the lyrics that go along with it."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." I replied encouragingly then smiled brightly as she finally looked up from her papers, "It'll be your best jam ever." Santana grinned happily, her cheeks bunching, as she let out a giggle.

But before she could get out a reply, Quinn was rushing through the entrance and calling out her greeting to us with her pretty blonde hair all wind-swept and the lapels of her coat fluttering at her sides.

"Well, looks like we're all here now." Santana sighed as she stashed the papers in a folder and tucked it in her bag then stood up.

"It's only us three?" I asked quietly like I was afraid Sue would overhear me as I followed after Santana to meet up with Quinn.

"Yup!" She answered unenthusiastically, "She's probably going to chew our asses out."

"Gross.."

"I doubt it," Quinn dismissed as she set a comforting hand on my shoulder, "She's probably going to commend you on your quick thinking." The three of us ascended the stairs, each with our own opinion forming as we got closer to the intimidating steal door marked with Sue's name.

XXXX

Quinn was the first to reach for the door and upon knocking, we filed in: Quinn first, followed by Santana, and then me. I was surprised to find that the room was nearly pitch black, it was actually so dark that if I hadn't been walking so closely behind Santana, I probably would've tripped or gotten lost.

"Ladies," Sue greeted from the darkness, a slight sneer laced in her tone, "Have a seat." Before I could even try and feel for wherever the chairs were hiding, a hot lamp light singled us out, making it almost impossible to see Sue sitting on the other side of the desk. Luckily, with the blinding light shining on us, I was able to spot three arm chairs line up in a row.

Quinn obediently took the center seat while Santana and I flanked her sides and followed suit; Santana taking the one on the right while I took the one on the left. The leather chilled the backs of my jean-clad thighs as I settled in, beads of sweat already beginning to collect at the back of my neck from the nerves and the way the hot lamp light shone down at us like we were about to be interrogated. The two of them sat stiffly in their chairs, backs straightened and hands folded neatly in their laps like there was some sort of special posture required in the presence of Sue Sylvester.

Just in case there was, I mimicked their body language and tried not to show how nervous I was. Babysitters are confident women and I had to embrace that!

"First off," Sue said as she directed the beam of the lamp to the ceiling so we could actually see her face. She had wire framed glasses resting at the tip of her nose to which she carefully slipped over her face and set down on a stack of papers littering her desk. Her tired eyes scanned the three of us analytically, "I would like to applaud the way you three handled things last night. Sales were up almost 8% after the power outage on stage."

In return for the rare compliment, we gave our thanks and waited anxiously for the rest of Sue's speech.

"Fabray," Sue directed with her chin lifted as she stared at the other blonde, "You worked well under pressure and the lengths you went to make sure everything was up and running again did not go unnoticed." Quinn smiled bashfully. It turned out that while Santana and I were trying to get the bar under control, Quinn was searching the control room for some type of solution and after pressing some lucky buttons and flipping a couple random switches, she successfully got everything back online.

"As for you two," Sue scowled as she directed her gaze to Santana then me before shaking her head at her desk, "What in the hell happened? Broken bottles, broken chairs, a man with a broken nose, seven customers escorted out, and you with your hand.." I gulped at Sue's scornful tone and chanced a look in Santana's direction only to find her sitting coolly as ever.

"Look, a couple of guys got impatient," Santana shrugged casually, "Some shoving happened then one thing led to another, but like you said, we handled it."

"A man was hospitalized because of you, Lopez, and though I am impressed that such a weakling like you could pack that kind of punch, that could've been a lawsuit." Sue admonished, "A lawsuit!"

I flinched at the way her voice rose but before I could stop myself, I was cutting in, "She was just trying to help get that guy off of me, she didn't do anything wrong." I could feel Santana's eyes staring at me, but my eyes stayed fixed on Sue's who quickly flickered from Santana to me.

"Don't even get me started with you, sister," Sue laughed sarcastically as she wagged a finger at me, "I don't know what kind of place you think I'm running here, but this is not one of those kinds of places."

My lips parted, but words never came out. I just shook my head, brow scrunching in confusion, because what the heck is she talking about?

"This isn't some kind of strip club, I don't have my girls purposely causing sex riots. I don't allow dancing on bars, I will not downgrade to some brothel."

"Wait, what?" I gasped, trying to wrack my brain for some type of rebuttal. It seemed that Quinn and Santana had the same thought in mind.

"Strip club?" Quinn asked out of shock, "Brittany didn't even take off her clothes. Her moves weren't even that inappropriate, this is ridiculous!"

"And have you seen the outfits Kurt makes up for the girls?" Santana asked and threw out her hand like she does when she's angry, "Those are way more revealing! You don't want to run a strip club? Well, could've fooled me."

Sue just pinched the bridge of her nose and let out an agitated sigh, "For twenty years, this place oozed talent. I've had the best underground singers in this city perform as my headliners and I will not waste all my hard work, I will not throw away all that respect and tarnish my reputation, for this place to turn into some tasteless club that has half naked girls dancing on bars." I found myself breathing harder as I listened to her rant and I couldn't be more confused!

"Sue, that wasn't Brittany's intention when she got up there." Quinn argued, her voice even like she wasn't fazed by Sue's aggressive tone, "She was only trying to keep the customers from fighting and stall until the stage was back up and running!"

"I'm sure Legs didn't have any ulterior motives, but this kind of thing won't happen again so what I say is final." Sue answered as she crossed her arms over herself and leaned back in her chair, "Pierce, turn in your vest. You're done here."

For a second, I felt my heart completely stop. It was like all the breath in me left my body and I was just staring at her, jaw dropped and eyes wide opened. I was paralyzed with shock.

"Hold up, you're firing her?" Santana snapped like a new fire had started within her, "That's garbage, Sue! Brittany saved your ass last night. She saved all our asses last night." Santana glanced down my way, her lips pursed slightly like she was reflecting on some memory before she looked back up at Sue, "Even mine. Without her, this place would've gotten shut down and I know for a fact you can't afford that hefty bill. You said so yourself, sales were up 8% last night, and to reward the person responsible for that you're firing her? Capital freaking idea!"

I thought I was surprised by Sue firing me, but seeing Santana so worked up and actually arguing with someone as daunting as Sue had taken the cake. Though I know I should feel completely devastated for losing my job, I couldn't help but feel a little warm on the inside from Santana trying so hard to defend me.

"Santana-" Sue tried to cut in but Santana was already rising from her seat in a great big huff. My eyes widened as I watched her body tense and the veins at her neck bulge as her voice grew louder. Quinn remained just as poised as before, like she was somewhat used to Santana's behavior.

"You should be thanking Brittany for doing what she did!" Santana advised, "You should be taking note of the sales increase and realize that maybe it's time to switch up some things, maybe singing isn't enough anymore! I know that you know that this place's glory days are over but maybe what Brittany offers can help bring us back. We can charge higher admission, make more money, incorporate routines with Quinn's performances.." As she trailed off, Santana's eyes drifted from Sue's, over the top of Quinn's pretty blonde head, to catch mine for just a moment before she directed her gaze back on Sue, "You should be thanking Brittany."

For some reason, the way those last words fell from her lips made it sound like she was trying to convince herself rather than persuade Sue.

"If not, if you actually believe that firing her is just after everything that has happened then.." Santana's voice shrunk frighteningly low as she walked around the back of her arm chair and curled the fingers of her good hand into its leather, "Then I quit."

"Santana!" I gasped, my eyes snapping from Sue's expressionless face to Santana. I saw a slight quiver in Quinn's perfect demeanor, but she composed herself and remained facing forward.

"You quit?"Sue smirked as she rested back fully against her chair.

"Yup!"

"No!" I cut in but Santana threw her hand up again and just like that, she was heading for the door.

Before I realized it, I was chasing after Santana, surprised that she was already half way down the stairs by the time I shut Sue's door behind me.

"Santana, wait!" I called as I rushed after her. Upon descending the stairs, she twirled at the spot, deep brown hair fanning from her face to land behind her shoulder.

For a second there, I almost forgot what I was going to say. Almost.

"Why did you do that?" I asked, my voice coming out surprisingly sharp, "You didn't have to do that!"

"Just give it a couple minutes, Britt," She smirked as she nodded upstairs, "We know what we're doing." I stared back at her blankly, my brows knitting with confusion yet again. "Sue can't run this place without me, without us."

My throat tightened embarrassingly at the thought of Santana considering us, well, us. A pair, a duo, two-shot, a coup-

"Oh and Brittany?" She added as she rested her hip against the lobby railing. I looked up from the tiled floor to find her grinning, shyly almost.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

I felt myself shake my head slightly, "For what?"

There was a short pause, like she was trying to find the right words or something, "You carried me. I had an injured hand, not a broken leg, but you carried me anyway." Her eyes found her fingers fiddling with the surgical type wrapped around her knuckles as she shrugged, "You didn't have to do that."

Smiling because I swore that Santana might actually be blushing again, I just shrugged too, "I guess we're even now then."

After a minute or two of straight silence, Quinn poked her head out from behind Sue's door and smirked, "Get your asses back in here."

XXXX

"It seems that I have underestimated you three," Sue sneered as the three of us were sat in our respective seats once again. I watched as Santana turned up her nose while Quinn smiled devilishly, "After some thinking and a little persuading on Quinn's part, I've decided that maybe it would be an..interesting idea to incorporate Brittany's dancing."

The butterflies lazily floating around in my belly suddenly went on overdrive, but I remained still, trying to mimic Quinn's cool persona.

"Which would mean that Brittany can keep her vest," Sue added then cut her eyes to Santana, "So if Brittany is staying then that means her partner in crime will be too?"

Santana slowly faced Sue then nodded subtly.

"We'll start off slow; during Quinn's intermission Brittany will perform at the bar."

"On the bar," Quinn corrected. Sue pursed her lips and nodded.

"On the bar." Sue mimicked with an eye roll, "That way when she's through, she won't have to go far to get back to her station." Sue replied then faced me, "I'm appointing you free reign on whatever you'd like to choreograph, all I ask is that you have Q or Sandbags here critique you before you actually perform it. They know what I'll accept which is nothing but the very best and if you don't live up to their standards, you won't live up to mine."

"Okay," I answered shakily, "I can do that."

"The performances don't have to fill up the entire fifteen minute intermission and if you can incorporate the other girls, that would be smart. Actually, that's mandatory now." Sue advised, "Seeing you and the waitresses in sync would make performance bearable."

"B-But the waitresses," I stammered as I looked to Santana and Quinn before meeting Sue's gaze, "Can they dance?"

Sue just snickered and shook her head, "This is New York, your neighbor is probably a professional dancer waiting for her big break."

"Actually no, she's a homewrecking boyfriend stealer." I muttered at the girl's mention.

"Yeah, there's those here too." Sue waved off, "Your kind isn't hard to come by around here, Legs."

For some reason, that stung a little.

Nothing special. Nothing different. Useless. Eye catching.

The director's words still managed to haunt me somehow, but as if she took notice of my sudden mood change, Santana spoke up.

"If this place is crawling with dancers, if her kind isn't hard to come by, then why didn't any of them take charge like Britt did last night?" Santana huffed as she scooted to the edge of her seat, her bandaged hand resting in her lap while her good hand gripped tightly to the arm of the chair like it was the only thing keeping her seated. She was defending me again like it had become second nature to her or something.

Sue didn't speak and neither could I.

"Brittany has something to offer and that's what separates her from the others." Santana added with her tone bridging on completely pissed off, "It's something special and that's what makes her a Babysitter."

Santana Lopez thinks that I'm something special.

"We each have something to bring to the table and last night, Brittany showed that she does too." Santana continued until Sue's hand rose to stop her from talking.

"You can call off your attack dog now," She smirked as she quirked her brow at Santana's behavior and looked to me before scanning our faces, "Don't disappoint me."

"We won't." Quinn answered firmly, her voice sounding so dainty compared to Santana's.

"Good," Sue answered sternly as she slipped her glasses back up her nose, "Now, get the hell out of my office."

The three of us filed out swiftly; this time Santana leading the line, while Quinn trailed behind her and I followed behind. Once the door closed and we were gathered outside the entrance of the lounge, Quinn turned to Santana and punched her in the arm.

Oh God, not again.

"Hey, what the hell?" Santana shrieked and started to rub at her shoulder.

"When are you going to quit running off at the mouth?" Quinn scolded, "You know how hard it is to clean up your mess when you're so damn adamant about making a scene? We're a team, you ca't expect me to have your back all the time when you're always trying to fly solo."

I actually felt a little bad for Santana by the Quinn was talking to her like that, like a mother telling you they're disappointed in you for making bad grades or something. From how they spoke, I could tell that this was a common thing; Quinn standing up for Santana and vice versa maybe. I never wanted to disappoint Quinn if hearing that kind of tone from her was the result.

"I'm sorry, Q." Santana replied though her eyes never reached Quinn's. She looked so helpless as she lifted her shoulders tiredly, "I just, I didn't like how she was talking to Britt."

Quinn's tensed shoulders eased at hearing Santana's reason and a small smile replaced the former frown instead, "I didn't like how she talked to her either, but there are rules."

Then just like a switch in the bartender, Santana's sweet worrying was overtaken by a smug grin, "Now when have I ever followed rules?"

XXXX

There wasn't a set date or deadline to present Quinn and Santana with a choreographed routine, so I took my time in thinking up possible sets. As the work days followed, I ventured out further from the bar before opening and after closing to find out which of the waitresses were comfortable dancing in the routines. It turned out that nearly everyone wanted to take part in the dance which I wasn't surprised by. Like I said, dancers are always hungry and if the opportunity is there, they'd take it. Besides, if we're all here because our high hopes for an awesome dance career were shot down by some snooty director, this was our second best thing!

Slowly the team grew and slowly the routines improved.

I had never really led a team of dancers like I was attempting to do. I had never really choreographed an actual performance. The only thing I was confident in was my dancing.

And Santana thinking I was special.

With that in mind, weight of the task on my shoulders didn't seem that heavy.

XXXX

By Friday, I felt a little tuckered out. My head was filled to the very top with choreography and I couldn't shake the fear of disappointing someone: Sue, Quinn, and now Santana. Especially, Santana because she spoke so highly of me when we were in Sue's office. Along with choreography, thoughts of the bartender ventured in too. She confused me in the best of ways and it scared me a little. One minute she was being a tease, the next a sweet friend, then an angry person, then back to a tease! I couldn't tell which gave me a headache more, the choreography or her.

"Thinking hard or hardly thinking?"

I looked up from my phone to see Santana waltzing in from the storage room with a wooden crate in her arms.

"I have no idea anymore," I sighed and stuffed the phone in my pocket.

"I think I know just what you need," She smirked as she dropped the crate on the back counter and sidled up next to me, her right hand sliding against the countertop until she was just inches away from touching my elbow. I could feel her staring at my lips, she did so without a hint of shame and it made the back of my neck heat up and the tips of my ears to tinge pink, before she slowly trailed up to meet my eyes, "Sex."

And just like that, my heart skipped a few necessary beats.

"Like a lot of it," She added with an encouraging nod while I stayed completely still, "Super hot, sweaty, rough sex, preferably with me."

I was pretty sure my jaw would be somewhere on the floor by now, but the way my body ignited by her words kept me from doing or saying anything. I just alternated from staring into lusty chocolate brown eyes and pouty lips.

"It would be great, me and you, fucking." She shrugged like it was nothing, "We could do it right here, right on this counter," I watched as she took her finger and drew a lazy circle atop the counter, "We could do it in the storage room? I could sit you on the new crates of Captain Morgan and fuck you senseless."

I felt my throat tighten and my mouth go dry at the possibility.

"Oh, but that's wooden." She sighed, "I wouldn't want you getting any splinters. We could always just do it up against the wall, my hand covering your mouth so no one would hear you c-"

"Ssan.." I gasped as I felt her body move closer to mine, the relentless throbbing between my legs increasing at her new closeness though we weren't even touching.

"We could try something else if you'd like," She shrugged casually as she took a step back like she noticed how it made it harder for me to breathe with her so near, "Something a little less fun but still enjoyable, because I'm concerned that my bubbly blonde friend with such a bangin' body has been working way too hard lately. I'm worried that she may be lacking something in her life."

"Like what?" I rasped, embarrassed by how thick my voice had gotten.

She just smirked and flicked her eyes to someone behind me then whispered, "Just follow my lead."

"Santana, Brittany ,hi!"

I turned to see Mike from Q-zar standing on the other side of the bar. He looked different out of his uniform; now donning a blue and yellow flannel button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and his hair tastefully pushed up.

"Boy Chang, fancy seeing you here!" Santana greeted cheerfully though if anyone really knew her, they'd know that tone as her being fake.

"Yeah, I thought I'd finally drop by." He grinned as he lifted his matchbook then nodded to Quinn on stage, "She's great up there, isn't she?"

"Definitely!" I answered before Santana could, the effects of her teasing just seconds ago slowly fading away.

"If you want to wait a little bit, her break is soon and she usually comes this way for a drink." Santana offered with a shrug.

"You can surprise her!" I added hoping that I had caught on to Santana's game successfully.

"That would be awesome," Mike cheered but Santana just smiled devilishly.

"So what are your intentions with her?" She blurted causing my head to swivel, "Fuck buddy? Long term? One night stand?" I eyed Santana carefully, watching the way she sharpened her voice then turned it sweet: she was up to something.

"Uhhhh.."

"You think she's pretty, right?" I questioned, eyes narrowing as he began to sweat.

"Of-of course, she's-"

"And you like her?" Santana followed, pressuring him further.

"Well, I-I.."

"You know the Spice Girls?" I asked without bothering to hear the rest of his sentence.

"Yeah?" He nodded like he didn't get where it was going.

"Well, if you want to be her lover..you've got to get with her friends." Santana smirked and tugged me to her by my waist, "We're the friends."

Mike looked between us like he had no idea what we were talking about.

XXXX

It was hilarious how willing Mike was to impress us, because as Santana so politely put it, there was no way in hell that she was going to let some Q-zar dork break her best friend's heart. We decided that auctioning him off was an acceptable hazing exercise considering how much we care about Quinn.

So when I encouraged him to join me on the bar, he leapt up enthusiastically. Seeing that he was willing to do whatever to get our blessing to ask Quinn out on a date, Santana and I milked it! Santana said that if he couldn't take it, he couldn't take Quinn. Mike didn't even flinch at the challenge.

It was ladies' night, every third Friday of the month was and it just so happened to be my first, and women flocked the bar at Mike's appearance. Quinn had already left the stage so we had a few minutes before she'd come out for her drink. Santana picked up the megaphone we kept under the counter and gestured up at us:

"Hey ladies!" She hollered out at the group while Mike stood awkwardly on the counter since there wasn't any music for us to move to yet, "You feeling that Asian persuasion? Well, for one night and one night only, you can get this-"Santana motioned for Mike as the music finally cut on, "Fully trained, housebroken, backflipping stud!" I tried to fight off the giggling as Santana went on with talking Mike up, this whole plan was crazy!

It was fun dancing with Mike though; his moves were so smooth and all the little twirls and spins he did along the counter had girls swooning!

Bidding skyrocketed as he slid across the bar on his knees and did another spin move that landed him on his back but he didn't stay there long as he did a kip up landing him right back on his feet as he continued to groove to the music fluidly. He seemed to be having such a great time while Santana just laughed and yelled for the girls to keep bidding.

"Fifty-five dollars!"

"Seventy!"

"Seventy-five!"

"Eighty dollars!"

"Come on, ladies, is that all you've got?" Santana provoked as she rose her bandaged hand and gestured for the crowd to get those bets up. I hopped down from the counter to give Mike more space to move around then sidled up next to Santana as she kept hollering at the crowd and egging Mike on.

"Twenty more and he takes off his shirt!" Santana teased while Mike's fingers danced up his torso to the buttons of his flannel, popping each of them open as he went but not revealing any skin.

"Wait, doesn't that count as stripping? Won't we get in trouble?" I gasped, tugging on Santana's arm so she wasn't speaking into the megaphone.

"Hmm, good point. Well, let's hope they don't get to-"

"One hundred and fifty dollars!"

Santana and I whipped our heads to the owner of the voice so fast that we could've give ourselves whiplash!

Quinn, dressed in a sparkly silver gown and her hair swept up in a neat bun, walked through the sea of girls, the crowd parting for her like he was the female version of Moses.

"Sold!" Mike shouted upon seeing the blonde and he happily jumped down leaving a mess of brokenhearts.

"Uh-oh, busted.." I muttered guiltily as Quinn walked towards the bar with her hands on her hips, lips pursed, and a dainty brow rose. "Look who came to visit you!" I cheered hoping that I could melt some of that angry off her face.

"Hi, yeah, sorry it took so long! I've been working night shifts lately.." Mike answered, his breath slightly ragged from the dancing, "You were so great on stage, I had no idea you could sing so well!"

"Thank you," Quinn blushed cutely then nodded to the seating area, "Do you mind waiting over there? I've been standing for awhile and I just want to sit. I'll grab my drink and meet you over there."

"Sure thing, of course!" Mike nodded and turned away to find a free table. Quinn's sickeningly sweet smile vanished the instant he was gone and she looked to us with narrowed eyes.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Hold up, I think you owe me and Brittz here some money." Santana teased and out of habit extended her left hand to the fuming blonde.

"You just tried selling Mike!" Quinn huffed and smacked Santana's hand away, not roughly, but just enough to cause the bartender to shriek.

"Hey, no hitting." I warned but Quinn just shook her head.

"You guys are crazy, it'll be all your fault if he ends up being too scared to talk to me!"

"I doubt he's scared, Quinn, did you see him up there?" I asked cheerfully.

"Of course I saw him, how could I not when you guys had all these sleezy girls throwing themselves at him."

"I think someone threw their bra too."

"Yeah, that's definitely a bra." Santana chuckled, glancing in the direction of the far end of the bar before turning a softened expression to Quinn, "Look Q, we're just being your friends that care about you and what kind of friends would we be if we didn't pick on you about your crush?" Santana shrugged, trying to justify her need to stir up trouble, "Besides, Britt needed some fun in her life. You had fun dancing up there, right Britt?"

"Well yeah, but I always have fun dancing.."

"Oh, really? Well, how about I pick on you about your crushes then?" Quinn snapped as she eyed the both of us carefully like she didn't even hear the last half of what Santana said, "I wouldn't want to be a bad friend now, would I?"

I tensed at the very threat.

And for some reason so did Santana.

Quinn seemed to be pleased with our answers, or lack thereof, and went back to smiling triumphantly, "Uh-huh, that's what I thought." Then with one last wink, she snatched her drink from Santana's good hand and walked proudly over to Mike leaving Santana and I silent in her wake.

A/N Longer chapter than usual because I've finally kept to my draft instead of breaking it into two parts! If you've seen Coyote Ugly, you'll understand my auctioning off reference. If not, you should probably go watch it because it's an awesome movie. Love me some unholy trinity shenanigans, how about you?