A/N: Here's chapter 3, hope you guys are enjoying. Don't forget to review. :3
Chapter Three: Vacation Time
Blaine woke the next morning feeling sublimely well-rested. He sat up and stretched, taking in his surroundings: a large bedroom with an en suite bathroom, a sun-soaked balcony off to the other side, and a king-sized bed, in which Kurt was still sleeping peacefully.
Oh yeah, I'm on vacation, he recalled, sliding out of bed and making his way over to the balcony. He threw open the French doors and looked at the blue sky, which was clear except for a few dark gray clouds in the distance, far over the ocean. He could hear seagulls and smell the salty breeze, the sun warming his skin. The stones beneath his feet were still wet with last night's rainfall.
A figure walked out towards the beach just below him and turned back to look at the house, catching sight of him. Santana. Oh yeah, I'm trapped on this island with the glee club, Blaine remembered with much less exuberance than earlier. "Hey Santana," he greeted wanly, raising a hand.
"Oh, someone else is up," she began with a raised voice to reach him, taking out her phone. "Listen, Mr. Schue texted sometime in the night. He said his flight is delayed, probably because of that epic storm. So he doesn't know when he'll make it." She shrugged like she couldn't care less and turned on her heel, striding off as if she'd done her duty by telling one other person the news. Blaine just sighed abjectly.
Downstairs, Mike sorted through the cupboards, Tina pouring coffee nearby. "So, I know you were excited about not being in a hotel, but did it ever occur to you that we're going to have to prepare all our meals ourselves?" He turned to her. "No room service."
She smiled happily, worry-free. "It's okay, I'm sure someone here can cook. I'm just glad the electricity is back on." She leaned back against the counter, sipping her brew idly. "Room service I can live without, but coffee? No."
"Something smells divine," Mercedes joined them, beaming. "I'm so ready to eat some real breakfast."
"Be my guest," Mike said. "Cooking was not a skill I honed." Mercedes looked less enthused at the prospect of making her own food and opted for coffee.
Quinn came downstairs with Artie's chair, followed by Puck who carried Artie and deposited him into it. "These stairs? Not a fan." Artie rolled into the kitchen with a dispassionate look, Puck and Quinn following sleepily behind.
"There's coffee," Mercedes offered, as that's all there was. "Unless you wanted to make breakfast? For everyone?"
Quinn and Puck exchanged glances. "We're…terrible at baking."
"Can't you at least fry an egg?" Tina finally groused, leaning over the counter in exhaustion. Puck shrugged and decided to give it a try.
"Puck, weren't you going to sleep downstairs to keep an eye on the door?" Quinn remembered.
"Kurt said there was no point, though," Mercedes quipped, but Puck looked up.
"Yeah, I said I'd guard it until it was fixed. I totally fixed that thing last night." Everyone believed him and nodded, not bothering to check, and he stared at them. "No, seriously, go check. I did it."
"Sure you did," Quinn mumbled, sipping her coffee. Puck brooded, unable to gain praise for his good deed.
Just then, Rachel bounded downstairs, dressed in a high-waisted bikini, heart-shaped sunglasses and a mega-watt smile. She slammed a boom box onto the floor by the couch, and Vacation by the Go-Go's started up at full volume. She began dancing around the room to the beat as everyone stared on.
"Can't seem to get my mind off of you…!" she sang, cut short when Mercedes snapped the boom box off. "Hey!"
"We're not doing this," she remarked harshly. "If we're on vacation, that means we get a vacation from you doing…that."
"Besides, glee club is over," Puck reminded them, flipping an egg in the pan. "We're just friends on a trip together now. We don't need to do the whole singing/dancing thing anymore."
"But, didn't we do that for fun?" Rachel asked, lip trembling.
Puck looked up at nothing. "I mean, I did it for a grade. And Mr. Schue isn't here. So." Another egg sizzled into the pan.
"Well, let's at least go outside and play!" She dashed out at light speed before anyone could say another word.
"Sometimes I swear she's five." Mercedes shook her head.
Sam and Finn joined next, and Santana sauntered in through the sliding door just in time to take the first completed egg Puck cooked, despite those who'd been waiting the entire time. Stomachs rumbled in objection.
"I just finished making my rounds, and we are truly and completely isolated," she reported with a self-satisfied smile.
"What are you, a prison warden?" Sam inquired heatedly.
"Seriously, it's a tropical effing paradise out there. I walked all the way around and there's no one in sight. This is some serious real estate; this beach house and property has to be worth like hundreds of thousands of dollars."
"Yeah, we already confirmed it's a scam," Puck reminded everyone.
"No, dude, it's Mr. Schue!" Finn reminded him.
Santana just shrugged. "I'm just saying we lucked out big time. Surviving that flying murder mechanism was well worth it." She beamed at Brittany as she joined them downstairs.
"Well, whatever the case, we should be seeing Mr. Schue soon," Mercedes remarked, taking her seat with her fried egg. "He is on his way, right?"
Before Santana could reply, Sam said, "We should live it up while he's gone, though. Think how fun this could be with just us? No teachers?" Several chorused in agreement despite that this was Blaine's earlier point and no one said anything good about it then.
Once everyone had eaten their share of fried eggs, they were effectively out of eggs, and Rachel came back in. "That was fast," Tina said.
"Yeah, it got boring since I was the only one out there," Rachel admitted sullenly.
"I thought you were used to playing by yourself?" Santana cattily replied, and didn't even look as she raised her hand for Puck's high five.
"Here, eat something," Finn offered her the last egg, which was soggy and no one wanted it. Finally, Blaine and Kurt traipsed downstairs.
"Oh, hi, you two," Rachel began primly, cutting into her egg. "Did you…enjoy your sleep? In my room," she added quietly, and Finn shot her a reproving look.
Blaine paused minimally, but then smiled and said, "Yeah, I slept great, actually. I haven't slept so well in a long time!" Finn and Kurt exchanged withered glances at the memory of dragging his corpse-like body upstairs. "How about you?"
"It was okay," Rachel replied, wrinkling her nose. "A mediocre sleep. Solid 6/10. Could've been better." Finn kicked her under the table finally.
"Sorry to hear that," Blaine sincerely answered.
"Uh, we ate all the eggs so there's nothing left for you two," Puck informed them sheepishly. "Like, literally all the eggs in the house."
"Yeah you two slept wayyy late," Santana chimed in smugly despite having seen Blaine on the balcony first thing that morning. She folded her arms behind her head. "I guess the last to rise just doesn't get to eat."
"Isn't there a nursery rhyme about that or something?" Sam asked.
"Didn't they say this kitchen was fully stocked?" Kurt asked in puzzlement, heading towards the fridge. "And all you found were eggs?" Tina and Mercedes looked at each other in a panic, neither wanting to admit that was all they knew how to make.
"I mean, what can you make without eggs? Really," Puck scoffed, unfazed, but Kurt just balked at him.
"Oatmeal? Muffins? Parfait?"
"Dude, what?"
Kurt threw various ingredients on the counter. "Breakfast casserole? Smoothies? There's enough fruit here to feed an army. Oh my gosh is this chickpea flour? So then, Spanish omelettes? French toast?" Mercedes's stomach rumbled grudgingly, and Rachel gradually lowered her coffee. "You could do quiche, or crepes, or- there are so many variations of toast-!"
"Shhh…" Blaine slowly covered Kurt's mouth.
"Okay, point taken!" Puck crossed his arms defensively. "We just- we don't know how to make any of that stuff."
Kurt reached into the fridge. "You don't know how to make bacon?"
Puck brought his closed fist to his mouth, then said icily, "You didn't say there was bacon." Tina cowered from his gaze. Even Finn looked ready to throw down. "Wait, is it kosher?"
"There are plenty of things you could make! Or…I could make." Kurt surveyed the room.
"But, we ate already…" Mercedes looked mournfully at her empty egg plate.
"Oh…" Kurt looked concerned for all of two seconds, then brightened. "Well, more for me and Blaine then, I guess." He set to work while the rest of the room just stewed.
"By the way, has anyone seen Sugar Motta?"
"...Honestly forgot she was here, dude."
Outside the sun was shining brightly, the sand steaming, the waves cool and refreshing. Sugar Motta actually was outside playing, but Rachel was so desensitized to her presence she didn't notice her earlier. Now everyone was gathered out on the beach, breaking into groups. The water-players, the castle-builders, the sun-bathers, and those staying out of the sun altogether.
"This is my first time seeing the ocean," Rachel told Finn, splashing him with water playfully.
"Yeah, mine too. Pretty awesome of Mr. Schue to send us to the beach, huh? Lima is totally land-locked."
"You're still convinced Mr. Schue sent us out here?" Santana chuckled, retying her ponytail. "I bet he had a great trip to Atlanta, Georgia all queued up for us and we just ended up here by mistake." She lowered her sunglassed gaze to Finn's shoulders. "Okay seriously Pasty McDoughboy, you have got to get some sunscreen on or you're going to turn into a tonight's lobster dinner before sundown." She jerked her chin over at Kurt, who was ensconced in deep shade. "I think Kurt is over there with like, SPF 900, you should probably borrow some."
Finn looked at Rachel's concerned face, but then said, "Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks Santana." He sloshed off towards the beach, and Santana and Brittany closed in on either side of Rachel.
"I would ask why you were looking out for Finn, but I feel like something from Mean Girls is about to go down," Rachel admitted, shrinking from the two cheerleaders.
"No, nothing like that. Actually, I wanted to help you." Santana smiled at her, but Rachel knew better than to take those words at face value, and waited for the punchline. "I want to help you get the master bedroom from Kurt and Blaine."
"Why?"
"Because, you deserve a good night's sleep, right? Women's rights and all that."
Rachel lowered her lids at the girl. "You just want to get back at them for breakfast this morning, don't you." Santana said nothing. "Oh come on, you can't still be salty about that. Kurt totally would've shared with us if we hadn't already eaten!"
"Uh, get real. No he wouldn't have." She faced Rachel full-on. "You and Finn deserve that room, do you disagree?" Now Rachel said nothing. "So then take it."
"I don't understand, what's in it for you?"
"I'm satisfied with revenge," Santana replied with a sweet smile and shrug.
"Then…what do you suggest I do?"
"No, what do we do," she corrected. "I suggest a little boys-versus-girls competition. Something easy, like…dodgeball?"
"Beach dodgeball is the best," Brittany agreed.
"Um, did you see me during dodgeball at school?" Rachel reminded them.
"Yeah, did you see me, though?" Santana prompted, and Rachel considered this. "The girls will dominate. Sam, Blaine, Mike and Puck probably have some honor code so they won't throw too hard, Kurt will be too afraid of getting hit, and Finn is basically a gigantic target." Rachel glared at her. "Oh, and Artie's in a wheelchair. Need I say more."
"Meanwhile, you have Santana's guns of steel, my speed, and Tina's stealth. She's a ninja, right?" Brittany said.
"Mercedes will play awesome defense, and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all. We'll be invincible."
Rachel continued to mull this over, and Santana patted her back and walked off. "Just think about it."
Quinn reclined in her chair and handed Kurt his clinical strength sunblock. "Thanks," she said, adjusting her sunhat. Lima had its fair share of pools, but there was nothing like sunbathing at the beach. The tropics were a whole new level. And while Quinn doubted her alabaster skin was ready for it, she couldn't pass up the chance to return to Ohio with a sun-kissed tan.
"Want me to get your back?" Puck offered, and Quinn again paused at his strange show of chivalry before remembering there was nothing chivalrous about this.
"Sure." She laid down on her front and let Puck slide the oily lotion onto her back and shoulders. "Thanks."
"No problem." She nearly drifted off to sleep before she heard his voice asking, "Is it weird being here and being single?" She opened her eyes. "I mean, you did date three of the guys here."
"The same could be said for you," she answered lazily.
"Me? I didn't date three of these guys," Puck scoffed, and she let herself smile. "But I've gotta say, I actually enjoy not having to worry about some girl the whole time. I can just focus on me, you know?"
"Oh I do know."
"Preach," a voice came from beside them, and they looked over to see Artie, who had in fact been there the whole time. "Speak your truth, sister."
"How long have you been eavesdropping?" Puck asked, offended.
"It's not eavesdropping!" he sputtered in protest, just as Kurt looked over at them as well from his perch beneath the umbrella. "I'm also here, hi. You guys have surprisingly intimate conversations in public."
"Whatever, just- I can't believe you're not getting in on that mad sandcastle action over there, Artie." Puck nodded at Tina and Sugar's construction, Mike adding the finishing touches. "I'd suggest you do the same Kurt, but I'm kinda scared to think what happens when your skin makes direct contact with sunlight."
Kurt just stared at him for a second. "Okay, so I'm super white. I get it."
"Hey, guys! Look what I found!" Blaine hurried over to them happily, holding up a volleyball.
Kurt studied it, then asked, "What is it?" Blaine couldn't even reply. "I'm kidding, Blaine." He wasn't.
"A volleyball, nice!" Puck stood and took it from him, spinning it in his hands and nearly dropping it because of the sunscreen. "We should totally play."
"But, I just sat down," Quinn sighed airily.
"I'm going to have to veto that idea as well," Artie declared. "For obvious reasons."
"You can be ref, dude." Puck let out a strident whistle and waved Finn over, holding up the ball. When Rachel saw it, she whipped around and looked directly at Santana across the beach, who did the same. They nodded.
"Why don't we make it girls versus boys?" Santana suggested once they were all gathered around the net, tossing the ball from hand to hand. Rachel nodded in agreement.
"Uh, because we'd freaking crush you?" Puck laughed.
"Just try." Santana snapped the ball towards Puck, hitting him in the chest before he caught it.
Mercedes and Sam had returned from their romantic beach stroll, and Mercedes shook her head and backed up. "Count me out. I don't really do sports."
"And I do?" Kurt immediately protested, waving an arm at his team: the McKinley football team, and Blaine. "They can win without me. I should be allowed to sit out."
"You'll do fine!" Blaine reassured him. "Just stand in the back. I'll make sure you don't get hit."
"Wait, get hit?!"
"Come on, it'll be fun!" Brittany cheered, and no one knew if she meant volleyball, or just getting hit with one.
Artie rolled through the sand to his post, Mercedes sitting in the chair a few paces back. He blew the whistle and lowered his hand. "Er…start the game. Match? Game."
Finn served first, an absolute whiff that didn't clear the net. Puck glared at him as the girls high-fived. "What the hell, dude?" he mouthed.
"Sorry," was all he said.
"Even though Finn is technically an athlete, he has the coordination of a newborn puffin." Santana took her position to serve. "Let me show you how it's done."
Her serve was like something out of a sports anime, speeding across the net like a bullet and hitting the sand by Kurt's feet before he had a chance to react. It bounced away and rolled down the beach into the tide, and Santana dusted her hands off with a smirk. Artie could only applaud.
Puck finally closed his mouth. "Time out," he declared, and his team huddled up. Kurt was all too happy to run and get the ball.
"Okay dudes, we need a strategy or we are boned."
"Santana is scary and all, but the rest of her team is a bunch of creampuffs," Sam assured him. "I mean, three of them were Cheerios, but the other three? Pure garbage at sports."
"I seem to remember Tina taking a tackle on the football field like a champ, though," Finn reminded them.
"Face it, we have no shot," Mike surmised.
"Should we sing Eye of the Tiger?" Blaine recommended.
Puck regarded him critically. "Why, though?" He just shrugged in reply. "…Okay, it's as good a plan as any."
Kurt returned and joined them, invigorated. "Okay, what's the plan?"
