Chapter Four: Extreme Sports

An hour later, the girls were in the lead. The guys were all terrified and intimidated by Santana, and Finn was afraid of hurting Rachel so he sucked. Mike was also going easy on Tina. Puck was frustrated by them and muttered something about "This is why being single is great." Sam was just not good at volleyball, and Blaine spent so much time running interference defending Kurt that he didn't contribute at all.

Meanwhile, things were going perfectly to plan for Santana. Quinn set the ball for Santana to spike 90% of the time, and the other 10%, Santana was the decoy and Brittany spiked. Tina ended up being great at defense and Sugar made a decent cheerleader for them. Rachel was useless.

Brittany high-fived Santana and said, "You were right, as long as we try to hit Kurt, we've got this in the bag."

Santana grinned in reply. "Yeah, and hey. You almost had him that time." Quinn shook her head nearby.

Meanwhile, Blaine got to his feet wearily. "I swear it's like…they're doing it on purpose." He turned to Kurt, who just looked stunned. "Are you okay though?"

"I…yeah."

"Dammit, they are doing it on purpose!" Puck realized, punching his fist. "Okay, change formation. Blaine, you're in the vanguard."

"What?"

"No!"

"You're surprisingly into this, Puck," Finn laughed. "It's just a game. You're usually pretty chill about this kind of stuff."

He shrugged in response. "I just want to wipe that smirk off Santana's face. Plus she's seriously compromising my masculinity with those spikes." Finn frowned and nodded. "Sam, rear guard. You're trash."

"Wha?"

Kurt looked at his new bodyguard, who just winked. "I got you, bro."

Santana straightened up at the sight of this change in lineup. "Damn, they've found us out."

"Do you have a new strategy?" Rachel asked hopefully.

"...Absolutely not."

With Blaine and Puck taking offense, the boys gained the lead. Sam was able to field the ball, but never over the net, which was what he'd been doing all along anyway so that didn't change things.

"Only a few more points and they'll win," Tina breathed, wiping her brow. "What do we do?"

"We're not going to lose," was all Santana said. She watched as Sugar failed her serve brilliantly, and next to serve was Sam, who launched it into the back of Finn's head. "My serve," she grinned, taking her spot.

She slammed the ball towards Kurt, who by now had the reflexes to raise his arms to block it, inadvertently sending it straight to Blaine. "Oh, I helped!"

"Do it, Blaine!" Puck commanded, and he tipped the ball over the net, easily avoiding Brittany's block. "Yeaaahh! Eat that, Santana!"

Santana cursed and kicked the sand, striding away. "Should we sing something?" Rachel suggested desperately. "Welcome to the Jungle?"

"No point," Quinn resolved, folding her arms and turning away.

At the sight of the girls, disappointed and upset-Rachel again near to tears-the guys softened considerably. "Dammit…" Puck looked around at them and their visibly faltering spirits. "…We're going to throw the match, aren't we."

Finn hesitated, then nodded. "We're going to throw the match."

As the girls celebrated their victory and headed back into the beach house, Mercedes held back and waited for Sam. "Good game," she told him.

"Are you kidding? I was terrible," he laughed.

"Didn't look that way to me. You were better than Rachel at least. And Sugar."

"High praise."

"Did you have fun?" she asked him, and he looked around. Quinn, Santana and Brittany were all cheering over their victory, entering the house arm in arm. Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt's shoulders as he showed him how he managed to block the ball. Finn walked between Puck and Rachel, who reached across to ruffle Puck's mohawk as he dodged away.

"Yeah…I had a blast, actually."

"Almost makes you forget we were scammed into coming here by a psycho maniac, doesn't it?" Mercedes chuckled.

"That and the damn volcanoes."

Inside, Sugar was proclaiming that she was "Soooo hungry!" which reminded everyone else that they were famished as well. The sun was starting to go down outside.

"Losers make dinner," Santana declared with a devilish simper.

"Are you sure? We have to eat it, after all," Quinn reminded her, and her smile vanished.

"Well, there really isn't a better option."

It was true, Kurt was in the losing group, and all the guys turned to him for guidance.

"Fine, just do what I tell you."

"What should we make?" Finn asked, raiding the fridge yet unable to conceptualize a meal. "I don't see any pizza, so I'm out of ideas."

Blaine took out of a slab of disturbingly fresh-looking fish. "Maybe we could grill these?"

"Did you say grill?" Puck brightened. "I'm on it."

Kurt gave succinct directions for the grilling of the fish, chopping of veggies and creation of rice. It was extremely simple and basic, for which everyone was grateful.

"Hey, you're actually pretty good at this." Kurt watched Sam's chopping technique with approval.

"Thanks. I'm used to having to cook for my siblings. Making vegetables microscopic is a big part of that."

"Totally understandable."

At the table, the guys served the meal they cobbled together, and they all sat down together to feast. Once they realized it was edible, they dug in.

"This is so good, you guys! Especially the rice," Mercedes praised.

"Well yeah, Mike made it," Santana commented, earning a frown from him.

"Do you guys hear that?" Brittany asked the room.

"The sound of thinly-veiled racism?" Artie asked without looking up. "Yeah, glad I'm not the only one."

"No." The TV suddenly erupted into static and white noise from the living room. "That."

The table was again replete with faces of horror, shock and fear, tears standing in eyes. Finn stood and went over to the TV, first trying to power it off, but when that failed he settled for mute.

"Brittany, what did you do that for?!" Rachel accused, setting down her silverware with trembling hands.

"Why do you think it was her fault?" Santana immediately snapped, ready to fight.

"Are the messages back?" Brittany asked, turning in her seat to view the TV. Everyone else watched it expectantly, and to their surprise, the static disappeared and was replaced with a black screen and a single word in white.

"Congratulations," Quinn read from the screen, blinking.

"Well, I mean, it wasn't that good," Kurt chuckled, spearing the fish with his fork.

"But still a major accomplishment, compared to this morning," Mercedes admitted with an earnest nod towards Puck, and the girls applauded gamely for the meal they were given.

"...on your victory during the volleyball match," Quinn finished reading as the words populated on the screen.

"Oh, what the?"

"Wait a minute," Finn said, slow as ever. "So, the messages Brittany was talking about last night…were real?" Rachel's mouth formed a perfect O.

"Brittany and…Boobs McGhee will have received-" Quinn couldn't keep reading and broke off into a sputtering laugh, the rest of the table snickering as well as Santana stood abruptly from her seat.

"Hang on, it really says that?" She went over to the TV and stared at it. "There's only one person who calls me that…"

Kurt, too, had obtained a far-off look, and Finn had an expression of intense concentration. "No way…Coach Sylvester?"

"Sue?"

"What's the TV say?!" Sugar screeched at Santana.

"It says Brittany and I received roses for winning the game, and now we're safe from elimination. Oh, and this whole trip is an elimination contest, like a reality TV show."

"Did you say we're on TV?" Rachel asked, combing her hair and glancing around frantically.

"Like the show, Bachelor Pad or something. And the roses keep you safe from elimination and there's a grand prize." Santana shrugged and took up her seat again as everyone stared.

"Wait…" Blaine started, but similarly, could only focus on one thing. "You said we're on TV?"

She raised her eyebrows at him, then nodded. "Yeah. Freaking cameras everywhere, hidden all throughout this house." Everyone at the table paled or flushed in abject horror and shame, except Puck, Brittany and Sugar.

"Hidden cameras?" Rachel squeaked.

"Everywhere?" Kurt choked out. Sam put his head in his hands.

Santana broke into a grin. "Nah, I just wanted to see those faces." Now everyone was glaring at her in some combination of anger, relief and pity. "And those!" She cackled to herself.

"You're evil," was all Quinn said.

"So are we on TV or not?!" Rachel cried shrilly.

"And what was that about roses, is that part true?" Brittany took a long-stemmed rose seemingly out of nowhere, as did Santana.

"I found mine on my bed after the game."

"Me too, obviously. Same bed."

"Moreover, what's this about…an elimination?" Artie inquired. "I can't wrap my head around all this."

"How do we even know the TV really said all this?" Mercedes challenged with another pointed glare at Santana.

"I saw it too," Quinn confirmed. "And it's true. The thing about Bachelor Pad."

"This is a lot to take in," Finn decided for the group, as always. "Let's get some sleep and discuss it tomorrow morning. It's been a long day."

"Or here's a thought, let's forget it ever happened," Puck suggested. About half the room was on board with this idea.

Quinn stood up and said, "If Coach Sylvester's involved in this, I definitely want to get to the bottom-"

"I said," Finn cut her off with an apologetic yet stern look, very Mr. Schue-esque. "We can discuss it tomorrow after we've had some rest."

But once everyone went to their rooms, they discussed it amongst themselves anyway. "I can't believe this trip is actually a reality TV show," Mercedes said to Sam as she combed her hair.

"You really believe that?" he snorted. "It's just some nonsense Santana made up after pretending to look at the TV. And Quinn is clearly in on it."

"Then, the roses?"

"They must've picked them outside."

Mercedes gave him a deadpan look. "Full-blown, long-stemmed red roses, just growing outside on the beach in Mexico?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, I'm not a geologist or whatever!" Mercedes just sighed deeply.

"But, think about it!" Tina started up. "The plane, the tickets, the address to this house…! It's all so cloak-and-dagger, it's clearly Sue. It's totally her style."

Mike stared at the ceiling from his place in bed. "But it doesn't make sense. She doesn't have the means to manipulate the television, first of all. And to follow us all the way here? Spy on us?"

"Totally something she would do!" Tina replied, spreading her hands. Mike groaned and turned away, facing the wall.

"Maybe Coach Sylvester isn't on the island with us. She could be having her dirty work done by proxy. Quinn, maybe?" Artie suggested, raising an eyebrow at Puck.

"Pssh, Quinn? No, she done with Sue's BS. Santana on the other hand…"

"The easy guess, but…would she really let Sue call her Boobs McGhee in front of all of us?"

Puck considered this for a moment. "Brittany, then?"

"She didn't say anything about this to me, obviously!" Santana scoffed. "I haven't talked to that lady in weeks!"

"Then, you really think she's behind it," Quinn sighed. She looked at Brittany to quell her jumping on the bed. "What do you think, Britt? Coach tormented us during our glee club days, but now that some of us have graduated? What's her motive?"

"She always liked torturing people for fun," Brittany surmised after a moment. "Mr. Schue especially. I can see her wanting to mess with us, but she'd probably have more fun if Mr. Schue were here with us."

"He was supposed to be. Maybe it really is chance that he missed the flight." Santana shook her head. "Or, no, he didn't really miss the flight. We did."

"She gave us fourteen tickets, one of which was for Sugar Motta. Mr. Schue…was never supposed to come here," Quinn realized, and the other two met her gaze with a hint of fear. "Whatever she's doing, it's just for us. If it really is her."

"It's gotta be Sue," Finn said, pacing the room.

"Weren't you telling us it was Mr. Schue who set this up, like a mystery game?" Rachel reminded him petulantly. "And you told us to trust you, and then you led us right into the lion's den?"

He stopped and faced her. "Rachel, you have to be the only one who doesn't turn on me. I was just trying to do what was best for the whole club."

"I know you were." She set down her hairbrush and turned to face him. "And really, being here wasn't so bad. I had a lot of fun today. Now, if anything, I'm worried about the…elimination." She looked down at her hands. "I don't want to get voted off this island, and it's no secret everyone in this club has some kind of grudge against me, so I probably will…"

"Hey, it won't come to that," Finn soothed her, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his. "All that stuff Santana said about this being a contest, we can just ignore it. Like Puck said. Then it can just be our vacation."

"Really?" Rachel asked, smiling at him, and he returned it.

"Really. The volleyball game is as far as our friendly competition will go."

"The volleyball game…! Shoot, the master bedroom!" Rachel leapt from her seat and tore out into the hallway.

"Okay, here, it says Bachelor Pad was an elimination-style television game show," Blaine read off his laptop. "The contestants live together in a mansion and take part in challenges to prevent elimination, go on dates with contestants of their choice, and choose other contestants to eliminate. And hey, there's a $25,000 prize."

Kurt smiled at him a little weakly. "That sounds nice, especially the dates. Why would Sue Sylvester want to put us on a reality show like that, though? And how would she even get the rights to do so? We didn't sign anything."

"Oh, I misread. $250,000 pri-"

"So how do we win?"

Blaine smiled and set aside his laptop, then looked over at Kurt. "Why are you all the way over there? Santana was joking about the cameras."

"Sorry, I'm still not used to this bed," Kurt replied, scooting half a mile closer. "If it turns out we are on a reality TV show, that's going to change the dynamic a lot. I don't want us to be competitors."

"Well luckily, you and I can just team and up win the whole thing." Blaine pulled Kurt even closer and kissed him softly. "And you can't say the idea of competing against and subsequently eliminating the other members of the glee club hasn't occurred to you before."

"I'll admit that does sound appealing," Kurt approved, kissing Blaine more deeply. He looked into his eyes when he drew back. "I'm not tired at all…"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Blaine whispered.

"Definitely."

Ten seconds later, Rachel Berry burst through the door. "I demand you relinquish this room to me at on-!" She stopped and stared at the two, who stared back.

"Hey Rachel! We were just about to have a Beach Boys karaoke marathon," Blaine said with a smile, stepping back from his laptop speakers to hand her a mic. "Want to join us?"

Rachel's threat withered away as elation bubbled up inside her, and she couldn't keep the grin from her face. "I'd love to!"