Santana frowns.

'Are you sure this is McKinley?'

Blaine shrugs.

'It's… a version of it.'

'But people are smiling.'

'Try not to wreck it.'

She pinches his arm, making him squeak in pain.

'Sorry. Had to get it out of my system before this starts.'

With their outfits squeezing everything a little too tight, they both struggle to keep up their smiles as they take a deep breath and keep walking closer to the school. They've both pretty much copied the outfits they've seen in their pictures around the house, figuring it's probably best to try and fit in. They barely make it onto the premises before they are ambushed by teenagers – Santana by cheerleaders and Blaine by the basketball team.

They've never experienced interactions like these before.

The cheerleaders' uniforms are much less provocative than Santana used to have to wear – cream sweaters with a grey 'M' on the chest, with grey skirts almost down to the knee – neither about the teasing nor the pleasing. She knows all the girls who seem desperate to talk to her, and not remotely afraid of her: Quinn, Tina, Rachel and Mercedes all start babbling while Santana tries to catch her breath.

'Hi, Santana! How are you?'

'Are you sure you don't want to join the team again?'

'You were always so peppy! Please come back!'

Santana has to rein in a grimace. 50's Santana sounds terrible.

'Oh, um, I don't know. I've got a lot going on right now.' Not a lie. The four of them start showing her their latest routine to convince her to join, and she could learn it in her sleep. Lots of side-stepping, shaking pom poms, and 'Come on, McKinley, we want you to win-ley'. Yikes. The levels of difficulty have apparently risen astronomically in the last few decades. She thinks this might be more manageable than Sue's increasingly life-threatening routines. Joining this squad is almost appealing, and she's thinking about agreeing, when she feels something on her hand. She flinches but realises it's someone's pinky finger tugging on hers. She looks up to see Brittany, blonde ponytail bobbing as she hops from one foot to the other in excitement.

'Oh my gosh, are you thinking about coming back? Oh, Santana, please do it! Try-outs are this afternoon, and it's not long until the Big Game!' She does a little jump and adds, 'If you're cheering with us, we'll definitely win!'

The girls have finished, and they all smile expectantly at Santana. Her instinct is to keep up the front and make sure she stays consistent, especially with Brittany. Being mean to Brittany is the last thing she ever wants to do, but she normally has a whole shtick to maintain. Looking at the cheerleaders in front of her, out of breath and giggling together, she realises that reputation doesn't exist here. Nobody here will notice if she's nice. It would probably be more suspicious to be cruel.

'Please, Santana. Final try-outs before the Big Game are tomorrow. I'll help you get ready!' Santana lets herself look (gaze? No, no, definitely just a look. It's fine.) into Britt's eyes and that smile and all she can do for a moment is nod with her mouth hanging open. One thing that doesn't feel remotely different here is the way her stomach swoops when she sees that girl beaming at her. She swallows and manages a 'yeah, sure, okay,' and the girls crowd in to hug her. Immediately, her shoulders tense and she sucks in a breath. Luna is the only person she ever lets this close, and the reminder twists in her stomach. The girls eventually give her a little more space, and Rachel looks at her quizzically.

'Smile, Santana! You're supposed to be cheerful!'

Santana tries to get her face into a smile shape. It convinces the others, but reminds her what had put her off cheering in the first place. Switching this on for a crowd isn't easy, even here.

'Hey, buddy! How's it going?'

Blaine can't remember ever having had a full conversation with these guys, and they don't seem eager to break that tradition.

He nods at Finn. 'It's going good, uh, pal. How are you?'

'We're all just excited for the Big Game! Not long now!'

'Oh, sure! The Big Game! Hey, remind me, when is that again?'

A hard slap on the back from Puck almost knocks him over. 'Get a load of this guy! Acting like he doesn't know when the big game is!'

The guys – Finn, Puck and Mike – all laugh to each other, as if it's the dumbest question in the world, but still not answering him. Kurt laughs too, but it's less enthusiastic. He smiles encouragingly at Blaine, who just wishes he'd noticed sooner how pretty this boy was.

'Anyway, we're practising during gym this morning so we can make sure you're ready! It's gonna be swell!'

'Yeah, swell!'

Baffled, Blaine watches them high five each other, more back slaps and big smiles.

'Okay, great, so, um… what else is new with you guys?'

He receives four blank stares.

'I mean- what's happening with you other than basketball?'

They glance at each other, brows furrowed. Finn gives Mike a desperate look for an explanation, but he shrugs and they all go back to staring at Blaine.

'Oh boy. I'm- I'm kidding! It was a joke!' Sighs of relief all round, and Puck nods in approval of this hilarious prank. They all laugh, their faces no longer scrunched up in fear and confusion.

'Classic Anderson!' Puck punctuates himself with another hearty slap on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine decides he made a good choice not being part of this before.

'Haha, yeah! Go, uh…' he glances around for a banner or poster or something. Could he just say Wildcats and hope for the best? 'Go… team!'

Finn's goofy smile widens as he nods. 'Go team!'

The bell rings and Blaine could cry with gratitude. He looks over at Santana, surrounded by girls in non-slutty cheerleader uniforms with bouncy ponytails and figures she's probably fine.

'It's in two weeks.' Startled, he looks to his side to see that Kurt has hung back to talk to him.

'What?'

'The Big Game. It's two weeks tomorrow. You seemed really confused.'

'Oh, right. Thank you.'

Kurt hesitates. 'Blaine, I- I liked that you asked about other things. All they ever want to talk about is basketball. And, I mean, that's swell, and all, it's just – I wish they wanted to talk about other things sometimes.'

He's grateful for a second chance to talk to Kurt, and decides to do it like a normal human this time.

'What kind of other things?'

Kurt looks ahead where the guys are goofing around with unfaltering grins, shoving into each other and laughing.

'Oh… it doesn't matter. We should go.'

Kurt hurries to catch up with the others. All Blaine can do is watch and follow them.

Blaine isn't sure what it is, but basketball… sounds different from usual. He holds a ball, giving it a couple of bounces as he watches the rest of the class passing to each other, running, pivoting, and there's the sound of catching the ball, of sneakers squeaking on the floor, and balls landing perfectly into the net, but when he pauses his own dribbling for a while, he realises what it is. The balls aren't hitting the ground. Usually there's a constant percussion of the balls being dribbled or thudding to the floor when someone misses a shot or fails to catch another player's pass. But not here.

The smiles are unfaltering, the passes are all caught, every single shot at the basket goes in and someone's always ready to catch it underneath. The coach isn't really paying attention to him, so he decides he may as well give it a try. He slowly dribbles closer to the basket, aims carefully, and sure enough, it goes in. He doesn't normally have the best coordination, but this isn't beyond the realm of possibility. He tries again, a little further away. Again, nothing but net.

He keeps going – a layup, a jump shot, a hook shot – and he scores every time. At one point, he faces away from the hoop and tosses the ball behind him. He spins around just in time to see in sail right in. He even tries to miss, throwing it in completely wrong direction, and it bounces off the wall, the ceiling, and a rafter, and still lands in the basket.

'Holy shit,' he mutters under his breath. He checks to see if the others are watching him, but the coach is happily having the class run some drill or other. Maybe Blaine is allowed to do his own thing as he's on the team. Either way, he's glad nobody is looking, as he thinks he may as well try one more thing.

He dribbles for a few seconds, switching hands a few times, acutely aware that this is already more than he's ever tried in gym class, then starts to gain speed towards the basket. He's so sure it won't work, but he concentrates on the hoop and leaps. Things seems to move in slow motion, and he has to resist the temptation to shut his eyes because this is bound to be hideously embarrassing, but somehow he feels the cold rim of the hoop against his hand as the ball slips through the net.

'This place is definitely magic.'

Santana's first class is a significantly different experience, as Blaine finds out when she dumps her tray opposite him in the lunch hall.

'The past is the worst. Home fucking economics. First of all, I already know half of that stuff because I am a functioning human being, and second, why the hell don't you have to learn it?'

Blaine swallows the mouthful of fries he had been chewing.

'I guess we all have to get wives to do everything for us?'

'I hate you.'

'You hate the patriarchy.'

'I can hate two things.'

Blaine tries to change the subject. 'I had an… interesting morning.'

'Of course you did, because you're a man-'

'Tana, do you want to hear about me playing basketball or not?'

She gasps and the anger dissipates. 'Ooh, you got me. What was it like?'

He takes a deep breath, holding one hand in the air and one to his chest. 'I, Blaine Anderson, enjoyed gym class today.'

'Traitor.'

'Honestly, it was the weirdest thing. I was good. Well, everybody was good; it was impossible to miss. Everybody in there was perfect every second. Santana, I dunked.'

She almost spits her sandwich out. 'You did what? Can you fly here? Was the basket nailed onto a toadstool? Were you temporarily three Blaines hiding under a trench coat?'

He throws a fry at her.

'Hilarious. But, seriously, this is insane. I think I might be a jock here.'

Santana can barely breathe. 'Blaine, please, my lung capacity is limited in these clothes, you need to stop-'

She finally stops cackling a couple of minutes later, wiping tears from her eyes. 'Okay, what do we have this afternoon?'

After lunch, it's Science.

'When a man and a lady love each other very much, they get married. And then they have children. That's where babies come from.'

Santana gives Blaine a wide smile and a thumbs-up, as if to say, 'good luck screwing anybody in this town.'

Blaine ignores her in favour of looking around the room. The other students all have their books open and pens in their hand, but nobody writes anything down – probably for the best, as everything the teacher is saying is nonsense. He flicks through the textbook on his desk, and it's empty. He angles it to show Santana, but she's too busy looking at Brittany to notice. He smiles. He may even be kind enough not to make fun of her for it later.

They end the day with Geography. The teacher points to a map on the board – a map consisting of two big roads and nothing else.

'So you walk down Main Street, and then you can simply turn onto Elm Street.'

Again, the class is nodding and smiling, but not writing a thing. Santana raises her hand, and Blaine tries to glare at her to stop, but she either doesn't notice or ignores him.

'What's outside of Lima?'

The whole class turns to stare at her. The teacher's smile falters for a moment.

'I… I'm not quite sure what you mean, Santana.'

'I mean,' she makes a circle with her hands, 'we're in Lima, right?' The teacher nods, slowly. 'So what's outside of this? Like, where is Lima?'

The teacher's smile returns to its previous certainty. 'Oh, silly! It's in America!'

Santana glances at the enormous American flag hanging to her left. 'Uh-huh, I got that. But, you know, where in America?'

The teacher lets out a breezy laugh before pointing at the street map again. 'Well, right here of course!'

The tension eases in the classroom, and Santana's shoulders sag in resignation. 'Right. I remember now. Thanks for explaining!'

The teacher just keeps on smiling.

They're in shock most of the walk home.

'At least we have more information, I guess?'

'Yeah. The only hitch is it all sucks. But not for you, tiny gay LeBron.'

'Good one. Anyway, what's up with you and all the cheerleaders? They seemed pretty obsessed with you this morning. And with one of them it seemed mutual.'

Even in monochrome, he can tell she's blushing.

'Oh, it's like at home. I used to be on the squad and now I'm not, but I'm actually… trying out tomorrow after school.'

Blaine isn't even trying to contain his grin. 'Really? And who could've possibly convinced you to do that?'

'Oh, right, and how's your plan to invent sex going? Did you get all dirty in the locker room with those big tall jocks this morning and forget to tell me?'

He scoffs. 'Ugh, as if. They're all idiots. I heard the phrase 'Big Game' seventy times this morning and only one of them would actually tell me when it is.'

'Oh, crap. Now I have to choose between making fun of you for the "someone" and finding out how long we have.'

'It's two weeks tomorrow.'

Santana stopped walking. 'Does that actually help us? Or do we now have a deadline that we made up to do… something we don't even know about?'

Blaine shrugs a little hopelessly. 'No idea. Do we just have to try and survive without screwing everything up for two weeks? Or do we have to try and fix it?'

'Maybe you just need to quit the basketball team and restore balance to the universe.' He laughs, and she pauses before adding, 'It was Kurt, wasn't it?'

'What?'

'He gave you a real answer about the Game.'

He hesitates. 'Are you going to make it into a whole thing?'

She shakes her head. 'No. But maybe you should. For your "purpose" or whatever you called it.'

'Or maybe it would be good for me to have one friend here who isn't you.'

She pinches his cheek. 'Well, if that doesn't have him swooning, I don't know what will.'

They get through another odd dinner, Dad paying more attention to his paper than anything else, while Santana and Blaine are extra nice to Mom to make up for it. Blaine notices that Santana is eating faster than usual, and is about to ask why when the doorbell rings. She can't get up to answer it quickly enough, and Mom is shocked that she's left the table without permission.

She feels flushed and breathless when she opens the door to see Brittany, still in her uniform, smiling brightly at her.

'Hi! Are you ready to make the best routine ever?'

Santana nods eagerly and steps out to join her.

'Santana? Honey?' Mom appears in the doorway, frowning. 'What's going on? I'd rather you didn't just disappear from dinner without telling me where you're going.'

'Oh, sorry, it's just – I'm trying out for cheerleading tomorrow, and Brittany said she'd come over and help me practise.'

The frown vanishes. 'Oh, darling, that's wonderful – and Brittany, that's so kind of you! Well, don't let me stop you, you girls get to it!' While Brittany fluffs up her pom poms, Mom comes out and takes Santana's hand for a moment. She has to stop herself from yanking it back. 'Sweetie, it'll be so good to see you back in that uniform. It always made you so happy, cheering.' Mom kisses her cheek, and goes back inside, beaming.

Santana just stares at the door for a moment, until Brittany says 'Ready? Okay!'

When Mom gets back to the kitchen, she's thrown off her usual rhythm again. 'What are you doing, Blaine?'

He turns from the sink to face her. 'I'm just clearing up. Is that okay?'

'Well, I- yes, I suppose. Darling, isn't Blaine being helpful?'

Dad looks up for a moment. 'Mm? Oh, yes. Good.'

'Mom, why don't you take a seat? I'll bring you some tea in a minute.'

She looks around the kitchen, sure there must be some other job to do, but Blaine's cleared the table as quickly as he could. 'Oh. Well, yes, I… sure. Thank you, Blaine.'

When he brings her tea through, Mom is sitting patiently on the sofa, hands in her lap. She thanks him for the drink, and he smiles as he sets it on a table next to her. He can't help noticing that she looks distressed.

'Something wrong?'

'Oh no, dear, this is lovely of you. It's just- unexpected.'

He feels a pang of guilt, as if he's taken something from her. 'Oh. Well, I just thought that Santana and I are seventeen now, so there's no reason for you to do everything for us.'

She nods solemnly. 'That's very thoughtful of you.'

Blaine sits with her. 'Did I do something wrong?'

She quickly grasps his hand. 'Oh, Blaine, you could never do anything wrong. It's just that- oh goodness, it's a little embarrassing, but-' Blaine squeezes her hand. 'I just don't know else to do.'

'Really?'

'Well, I normally spend the day cleaning and tending to the garden and getting your dinner ready, and then in the evening I clean up from that, and maybe check that your father's clothes are pressed for the morning- but now I don't have anything to do.'

Blaine slumps a little. 'Oh. Well, you can do anything you want. What do you do for fun?'

She looks even more lost.

'Oh, let's see… some days, I have the girls over for a round of bridge, but they'll all be busy at this time of the evening.'

Blaine imagines his own mother in this situation – she'd be cracking open a bottle of Chardonnay and forcing Blaine and his father to sit through a cheesy movie with her. He'd protest at first, but end up more invested than her, munching popcorn with a tear in his eye. It'd been such a long since they'd done that, and it's not for a lack of effort on her part. He looks at Mom, picking at a loose thread on her dress.

'I don't think I've ever played bridge before. Could you teach me?'

Her face lights up. 'Really? You'd want to spend your evening playing cards with your mother?'

He nods. 'Of course.'

She giggles. 'I'll get the card table.'

Brittany claps and cheers for Santana as she nails the simplest routine she's ever done. It's just a few side-steps and kicks, shaking pom poms and chanting things about the 'Fightin' Titans' – she could've learned it in her sleep.

'That was so incredible! If she doesn't let you on the team, I'm gonna call the police. They really have nothing to do in this town.'

Santana is struggling to catch her breath between laughs.

'You know, I could do something a little tougher if you think it would be a good idea. What about a cartwheel? Or you know, it's been a while, but I used to be able to do somersaults and flips and stuff. On my old squad, I used to-'

Brittany tilts her head to one side. 'What old squad? You used to be on our team.'

Santana can feel her heartbeat speeding up. 'Yes. Yes, I was. That's what I meant.'

'But you did the same moves as us when you were on our team. Unless you did somersaults so fast I couldn't see them…'

'No, no, you're right. So, let's just, uh, get back to what we were doing. So, it's left, right, jump and kick, right?'

Brittany is still frowning at her when they hear the click of the door behind them. Mom smiles at the both – the most genuine smile Santana's seen on her since they got here.

'Hi, Mom, everything okay?'

'Fantastic, sweetheart. I just thought I'd let you know it's getting pretty late, so you might want to stop soon.' Santana looks through the window at the kitchen clock. It's already 8:45.

'I'm sorry, I totally lost track of time. We'll just finish up and I'll come inside.'

Mom shrugs. It's funny seeing her trying to look casual, but Santana doesn't laugh. 'Oh, there's no rush. We don't have to do things the same every single day. It's fine. You two have fun. It's so nice to see you cheering again, sweetheart.' She sighs and goes back inside. Thankfully, it's enough to distract Brittany from Santana's slip-up.

'Your mom is the nicest. But mine will probably be wondering where I am. How about we do some stretches, then I'll go home. Okay, sit down.' Santana does as she's told, and Brittany sits opposite her so their feet are pressed against each other. 'Okay, now come here.' They join hands and Brittany pulls Santana towards her, and Santana wants more than anything to get even closer, right on top of her, and – 'Okay, now you pull me.' Again, she follows orders. Looking down and seeing those clear eyes staring up at her, she's pretty sure her heart stops.

'You know, my legs could still use some – would you mind?' She lies back and Brittany pushes one leg up towards her shoulder and pushes gently.

'Can you feel that?' Santana's scared to speak. She nods, holding her breath and swallowing. 'Okay, other one.' Brittany's breath is warm on Santana's cheek. Santana isn't as innocent as the people here. She's had drunker fumbles on the odd occasion she and Blaine have gone to parties – slurred whispers and frantic groping in dark bedrooms, but nothing as intimate as this. Britt's furtive glances at Santana's lips are unmistakable. This can't be one-sided. Brittany's eyes are so warm, so gentle, that it's just too much. Santana feels her eyes start to prickle. She clears her throat, startling Brittany.

'I think it's time to go inside now. I don't want your mom to worry about you.'

'Are you sure? I don't want you to be sore, not with the try-out-'

'No, it's fine. I'm all done. I'm good. Thanks for all your help.'

Brittany smiles at her one more time. 'My pleasure. I'll see you tomorrow – you're so getting on the squad!'

Santana nods and sighs. 'Can't wait.' Brittany gives her a long hug and Santana could swear she feels a slight shiver run through the other girl's body. She's sure it goes over the standard length of a friend hug, but she tries not to get her hopes up any higher than they already are. She watches from her porch as Brittany skips down the street to her own house and goes inside. Blaine's waiting for her with an obnoxious grin.

'Feeling nice and limber?'

She pushes past him and goes upstairs; his smile fades and he runs after her.

'Tana?' He knocks gently on her door. 'I was just kidding. You know, the routine looks really good.'

'I'm fine, Blaine. I just need to go to sleep.' She says through the door, wiping her eyes.

He places his hand against the door for a moment. 'I'm sorry if I- I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow.'

He waits for a 'goodnight', but it never comes.

Brittany is almost home when something catches her eye. Her mother is always bragging about her rosebushes, and Britt is sure she's seen them a thousand times, but she's never noticed a pink one before. She stops to get a closer look at the soft pink petals that she could swear were grey this morning. Of course, it doesn't occur to her that this is the first time she's seen anything pink. She shrugs, and goes inside.

Note: I truly cannot believe some people are reading this in the year 2020, and I'm super grateful to those who are! Reviews are so hugely appreciated! 3