A/N: I know, I know! Bad writer award. I've been neglecting you all terribly…my head's been elsewhere these last few days…my deepest apologies…
Much love for the comments, everyone :)
This is a journey, as all my other stories are. It's not a 100m dash – more like a marathon. So sit back and enjoy the ride :) Also, this was idea simply inspired by Props. It's not based on what happened in the episode at all.
Not much love for Britt and Puck right now, lol :) But you guys seem to be warming up to my Pezberry :) I have to say that I am too…but only a little ;p
-H
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(
CHAPTER 6
Santana glanced at Rachel, who was sitting in the back row, but on the opposite end to where she was. The cheerleader met her sidelong gaze and smiled, winking seductively. Santana grinned and raised an eyebrow.
They were the only two in the choir room because the last period of the day was actually still in session. They'd snuck back into school and decided to wait in the choir room until Glee. They'd also decided that sitting on opposite ends of the room would be advisable considering that they'd pretty much made out for the entire duration of the movie they'd gone to watch. Or not watched.
Santana glanced at the clock and saw that there was still another ten minutes until the bell would ring. She needed to find something to occupy her time. Like now. Because Rachel was giving her that predatory look that Santana had quickly interpreted to mean that she should expect the cheerleader to jump her in the very near future.
Just as Rachel stood up, swishing her Cheerios skirt to purposefully give Santana an eyeful of the red spankies that she'd had become fond of gripping, so did the Latina, jumping onto the floor and heading for the piano.
Rachel frowned, but simply leaned against the wall as Santana sat down and ran her fingers lightly over the keys. She started playing softly and humming. It didn't take much for her to lose herself in music and she didn't hear Rachel moving until she looked up and saw her leaning on the piano, watching Santana's fingers run over they black and white keys.
Santana smiled up at her and started singing the words to a very toned down version of probably the most clichéd song she could ever sing.
This was never the way I planned
Not my intention
I got so brave, drink in hand
Lost my discretion
It's not what, I'm used to
Just wanna try you on
I'm curious for you
Caught my attention
Rachel chuckled and Santana simply smiled.
I kissed a girl and I liked it
The taste of her berry chap-stick
The cheerleader grinned and moved to sit down next to Santana when she deliberately said the wrong words.
I kissed a girl just to try it
I hope my girlfriend don't mind it
It felt so wrong
It felt so right
Don't mean I'm in love tonight
I kissed a girl and I liked it
I liked it
Rachel leaned towards Santana and kissed her cheek. She smiled again. The cheerleader was definitely surprising her with this seemingly out of character behaviour. She'd never pegged her to be romantic in any sense, but she'd taken her to movies (even though they didn't actually see anything), bought her popcorn and soda and took her for ice cream afterwards. Santana had to admit that she was impressed.
Us girls we are so magical
Soft skin, red lips, so kissable
Hard to resist so touchable
Too good to deny it
Ain't no big deal, it's innocent
Rachel scoffed and ran her fingers through Santana's hair as the Latina finished off the song with a flurry of fingers over the keys. Rachel laughed and clapped her hands.
"Well, well, Miss Lopez, aren't you just full of surprises," she commented.
"What, you didn't think I'd be good with my fingers?" Santana replied with a smirk, realising afterwards that it probably wasn't the best thing to say considering she was trying to dissuade the cheerleader from trying her best to knot their tongues together.
"I guess you'll just have to show me how good," Rachel replied, leaning towards Santana to grab her bottom lip between her teeth and running her tongue across it.
Santana closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. She'd never ever expected that Rachel Berry would be the one to get her blood boiling like this, but shit, it felt awesome. And she was fucking smoking hot so that was a big plus. Wait, why was she complaining?
"We can't do this here," Santana whispered, trailing kisses down Rachel's heated neck.
"So stop," Rachel replied breathlessly, her hands tightening on Santana's thighs.
"Hmmm."
She totally was going to. Really, she was. It wasn't like she had no self-control. Sure, she was a teenager and hadn't had sex in about six months, but she was rational enough to make sure that her libido wouldn't run away with her.
"Fuck," Rachel gasped as Santana's tongue circled her earlobe and sucked gently.
Before she knew what was happening, Rachel was straddling her and kissing her furiously. Santana happily let her hands run over the bare skin afforded to her by the best skirt ever invented.
They were both so lost in each other that neither heard the bell.
Brittany rubbed her forehead as she peered at her reflection in the mirror. She had lines etched into her skin from frowning for most of the day.
Even though Rachel had talked her down from beating Santana Lopez to a pulp, she was still pissed at Puck. And at Rachel, actually. She couldn't believe that her best friend had taken Slowpez's side. The dork must have her seriously whipped.
Brittany sighed and stared at her reflection. She was hot, right? She may be a bitch, but she was sexy as hell and a damn good cheerleader and dancer. And she was captain. So why the hell had Puck messed around with Queen Quinn when he was getting all his needs met from her?
It irked her to say the least. To add insult to injury, he'd chosen her. Who the hell was a better choice? Brittany shook her head slightly at her reflection. Maybe Puck was trying to get in some community service or whatever. He'd definitely come crawling back to her and she'd make him beg until he realised that he'd made the biggest mistake of his fucking life by not choosing her.
What had Rachel told her? Oh, right. She'd said that it didn't matter what Puck did because she was Brittany Pierce and to see her fighting over Puck would only hurt her reputation.
She saw Rachel's logic, but it was about pride for the blonde. She didn't care about Puck. God, she barely even liked him. But he was ok in bed and he was the perfect arm candy. Yeah, she had potential replacements, but who the hell did they think they were to make her out to look like a fool? Because that is definitely what she looked like to the entire school. Puck had dumped her for Quinn. It didn't matter that she'd been the one to do the public dumping – she was currently playthingless and Puck was hanging off Queen Quinn's arm.
Ugh.
When did this reality turn into the biggest suckfest since Twilight?
The final bell rang and Brittany checked her makeup, even though it was flawless, and walked out of the bathroom. She'd skipped out on the last ten minutes of whatever class she'd been in before because Rachel had cut the entire day. It wasn't unusual, but they normally cut together and Brittany could actually have really used a spa day after the shit that had gone down that morning.
The smug look on Santana's face came back to play over in her mind as Brittany walked towards the choir room. Her eyes narrowed and her temper started to spike. Since Rachel had gone gaga over the school loser, Santana had somehow got it into her head that she could challenge Brittany. The blonde scoffed. As if. She'd cut that bitch down to size without a second thought, regardless of whether or not she was sleeping with her best friend.
That in itself was something that Brittany didn't understand. Rachel could pretty much have any girl she wanted so what in the hell made Santana Lopez so irresistible? Their little romance was seriously throwing the balance out of whack at McKinley. Brittany wouldn't be surprised if the gleeks started trying to have lunch at the Cheerios table.
Brittany rolled her eyes as she neared the doorway to hell. Over her dead fucking body would that-
Jesus Christ. Again?
This was becoming a very uncomfortable habit.
Rachel was straddling Santana on the piano chair. The latter's hands were invisible under Rachel's skirt and, as Brittany momentarily glimpsed (she was not staring), they were actually underneath the spankies too. Santana's shirt was hiked up mid-waist and Rachel's hands were roaming across the bare skin. Santana did have really smooth-looking skin…
Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you?
"Once wasn't enough?" Brittany said dryly, walking into the room. "You feel like you have to give me a show every time you guys wanna get it on?"
The two broke apart and Rachel looked very flushed. Santana rolled her eyes and continued kissing Rachel's neck, but her hands now rested on her thighs.
"Hey, B," Rachel said, her breaths quick. "Santana, quit it."
Brittany smirked as her friend slapped the Latina's hands from running along her legs. Santana sighed visibly and simply stood up, Rachel still in her arms. The cheerleader squealed and giggled.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Brittany muttered.
"Someone's jealous," Santana chided, walking up to the top row of chairs and sitting down, settling Rachel back into her lap.
"Lopez, don't push me today," Brittany replied through gritted teeth. The animosity she'd felt towards Santana was making a comeback in a big way.
"Afraid you'll fall over?" Santana retorted. "No big strong meathead to catch you?"
Brittany stood up and Rachel jumped off Santana's lap to put herself between the two.
"You wanna go through this again, Rach?" the blonde seethed. "You're gonna pick her again?"
Santana chuckled and folded her arms across her chest.
"Santana," Rachel said warningly.
The Latina held up her hands and kept quiet.
"B, relax. I thought we dealt with this already."
"The fuck we did. Maybe I missed the explanation about why my best friend is picking some weirdo slut over me."
Santana was on her feet in a flash and millimetres away from Brittany's face before Rachel could even react.
"That's really rich coming from you. Listen, Wonder Barbie, and listen well. Jealousy is very unbecoming on you. I would suggest that you get some and get it fast because you just become even more of a snobbish bitch during a dry spell. Rachel's got herself a piece of hot ass and that's ruffling your feathers a bit. Well, you know what? Get the fuck over yourself. The world, and yes, it is bigger than this school, doesn't give a shit about your petty high school dramas. So you lost your plaything. So what? Get underneath another meathead and just leave the rest of us alone because in this room, you don't matter."
Brittany blinked and saw red. Before she could stop herself, she pushed Santana backwards roughly. Somehow, she managed to regain her balance really quickly and smirked at Brittany.
"That was a very big mistake, Wonder Barbie. Hope Coach Em has a good plastic surgeon on speed dial."
"Stop it!" Rachel shouted, grabbing Santana's arm and pulling her away.
"Rachel, I would advise you to either hold my glasses and back the fuck off or end up next to Miss Prissy here in a hospital bed."
"Santana, please," Rachel begged.
"Fine," Santana said simply, pushing Rachel off her and sending her tumbling into the stacks of chairs.
She raised an eyebrow at Brittany, who clenched her fists.
"Oh, I have been waiting a year to do this," Santana taunted, beckoning the blonde closer with two fingers.
"Rachel give you some of her berry juice or something that made you suddenly grow a spine then?" Brittany asked, stepping forward.
Santana's eyes narrowed. "I was fine with you picking on me. I can take that. But you don't start shit with my friends."
"Pot calling kettle black much?" Brittany snapped, circling Santana on the choir room floor. "You claim to be a martyr for these rejects, but really all you want is for people to notice you in the hallways. You want exactly what we have. Who's the one that's jealous now?"
Santana scowled and dove at Brittany, tackling her around her stomach. Rachel screamed as the two tumbled to the floor. Brittany jarred her elbow painfully, but managed not to hit her head. She tried pushing the psycho bitch off her, but Santana had her pinned and was starting to punch her stomach with short, sharp punches. Brittany wheezed at the pain and gritted her teeth. She clenched her fist and swung up, connecting Santana's jaw. She grunted at the hit, but it didn't seem to deter her much. Brittany could vaguely hear Rachel shouting at them to stop, but she wasn't about to let Santana Lopez make a fool out of her. Again.
She pushed her hips up and managed to get a bit of leverage and rolled Santana off her. She pounced on top and wrestled with the feisty girl on the floor. She managed to get a punch to Brittany's cheek and the blonde recoiled instinctively, giving Santana the chance to push her back with her feet in Brittany's stomach. She slid across the floor and her head hit the leg of the piano hard. She scowled and stood up. Santana did the same and Brittany tackled her around the waist similar to how she'd been tackled. They flew into piles of stacked chairs against the wall and toppled them all over. Brittany felt herself flipping over as she lost her grip on Santana and her arms and legs connected with different parts of different chairs. She grunted and tried to stand up, but she was tangled in about five different chairs. A quick glance to her left saw that Santana was in the same predicament.
Not a fuck was she letting some chairs stop her from kicking this bitch's ass. She kicked out at the obstacles and eventually managed to stand up by leaning heavily on the plastic. Her stomach was killing her and her face hurt like a motherfucker.
"Get up," she rasped at the Latina, who was still trying to navigate the chairs.
"So eager for me to kick your ass again, Wonder Barbie," Santana retorted, wincing as she got to her feet.
"You wish," Brittany spat, slapping her open palmed through the face.
Santana's head snapped back and her eyes narrowed. Brittany smirked at the red mark forming on the side of her face.
"Big mistake," Santana said in a low voice, punching Brittany in the stomach.
The blonde doubled over and Santana took the opportunity to tackle her to the floor. The struggled with each other until a loud voice echoed through the room.
"Pierce! What in the hell are you doing?"
"Santana!"
Both girls stopped, recognising the voices immediately. Santana was still on top of Brittany and they both looked at the doorway. Miss Sylvester and Coach Em were both standing there. Half the student body was crowding around the two doors.
"My office. Now!" Coach Em barked, spinning on her heel and walking through the pathway that magically opened for her.
"Santana, I can't protect you from this," Miss Sylvester said with a disappointed look on her face. "Although I did expect better from you."
"Whatever," Brittany heard her huff under her breath as she got off her.
The blonde slowly got up and winced at the pain in her stomach again.
"Have a good show, you mindless drones?" Santana snapped at the students watching them. "I feel like I'm in the Colosseum."
"Well, you're certainly acting like a savage."
Santana looked visibly regretful as Quinn walked up, her arms folded across her chest.
"I can't actually believe you, Santana," she said, shaking her head. "I ask you not to talk to Puck, and you do. Now you start a fight-"
"I didn't start it!" Santana immediately protested.
"Did you discourage it?" Quinn snapped back. "No! God, I swear, for someone as clever as you, you have rocks for brain cells."
She turned around and pushed her way through the crowd.
"Shit," Brittany heard Santana breathe. "Quinn, wait!"
She started in the direction that the diva had gone, but Miss Sylvester gripped her arm firmly.
"Unfortunately, you're coming with me to Principal Schuester," she said solemnly.
"I hope that I'm not going to be the only one in that office," Santana snapped, wrenching her arm away. "Because that would just be typical of how messed up this high school hierarchy bullshit is."
"Santana," Miss Sylvester warned.
"No, you know what? This is total bullcrap. I'm so sick of certain people walking these halls like they own they place just because they can catch a ball or jump really high. It's retarded! I'm done. I'm done." Santana held up her hands and stepped back. "Principal Schue can do what he wants. I'll take it. But the mentality of the students in this school is embarrassing. Grow a pair. All of you!" She shouted the last part at the faces peering in through the doorways. "This is tantamount to slavery, do you even realise that? I thought that modern society had risen above petty classes, but I guess we're all still stuck in the stone age."
"Says the girl who just got into a fight with the head cheerleader," Mercedes snapped.
Santana narrowed her eyes. "Great. I see how it is." She turned around and stalked to her bag, slinging it onto her shoulder. "Nice bunch of friends I supposedly have. Have a fucking good day."
Brittany stared open-mouthed at the Latina who pushed her way through the crowd. Miss Sylvester didn't even try to stop her. She took a deep breath and winced again. Crap. Coach Em was going to kill her. She'd be lucky to keep her Cheerios uniform after this.
She turned and walked towards the door, the crowd parting automatically. She could hear the whispers, but kept her head high and tried not to show how much pain she was actually in.
Santana hurt everywhere. Physically and emotionally. She couldn't believe how things had turned out. She knew that she should never have got into that fight, but she was honestly flabbergasted at how everyone had turned on her. Even Quinn and Mercedes. The entire situation was just completely absurd.
She got to her car and leaned against it. Everything had come to a boiling point. She knew that she'd snapped and yes, maybe she'd asked for the abuse originally, but why did everyone think that it was ok to keep dishing it out? She stood by what she'd said in the choir room. In hindsight, she was partly to blame for perpetuating the problem by encouraging the dimwits at the top of the food chain to continue picking on her, but was the alternative really any better? She'd honestly thought she was protecting her friends. Well, her so-called friends. Brittany hadn't been wrong. She was a martyr. She wasn't so proud that she couldn't admit it. But she definitely didn't do it to be popular or any of that shit.
"Santana!"
She groaned. This was absolutely the last thing she needed.
"Wait! Just hang on a second!"
Like that's going to happen.
Santana unlocked her car and climbed in, ignoring the shooting pains in her stomach. She started the car, but the passenger door was flung open and Rachel quickly jumped in.
"I really don't think you understand the gravity of how much I do not want to see you right now," Santana snapped, glaring at the cheerleader.
"Tough shit," Rachel replied simply, looking over Santana's face. "Life's full of disappointments."
"Tell me about it," Santana said snippily, raising an eyebrow at Rachel.
The short brunette rolled her eyes. "I'm just as much of a bitch as you. You can try that shit all you want, but you should know by now that I don't give so easily."
"Actually, you do," Santana said thoughtfully.
Rachel chuckled. "Trust you to have a one track mind when you're this close to being suspended."
Santana shrugged. "I know things got a little out of hand, but I know for a fact that nothing is going to happen to Brittany and I'm so sick of that blatant favouritism. I'm sorry, Rachel, I know she's your best friend, but I'm not going to apologise for being the only one to stand up for what's right. The cheerleaders and jocks at this school are bullies and damned if I'm going to just sit back and take it anymore."
Santana was breathing heavily by the time she was finished, her eyes fixed sharply on the car parked in front of her in the lot.
"Santana, you're not wrong,' Rachel said softly.
"That's just a nice way of saying that I'm not right," Santana cut in quietly. "Look, you're part of that crowd. Whatever we had was fun, but you have your allegiances. I don't hold it against you or anything."
Rachel frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"You're being nice and it's sweet, but I know how the world works. I think the entire school just saw how the world works. Well, in high school anyway."
"Santana, you're doing that thing again," Rachel murmured, her brow furrowing.
"What thing?"
"Where you're talking about something that only you understand. I'm not in that brilliant head of yours, remember? You need to explain things."
Santana swivelled in her seat to face Rachel and unwittingly winced as the pain shot up again.
"Are you hurt?" Rachel asked in alarm.
"Were you seriously asleep in there?" Santana replied dryly.
"Let me see."
Santana rolled her eyes and lifted her shirt. She glanced down and saw several colourful bruises across her ribs. Her skin tone generally hid things like bruises and blushes, but she'd hit those chairs pretty hard and she had to admit that Wonder Barbie could pack a punch.
"Jesus," Rachel whispered, running her fingers gently across Santana's stomach. "Santana, you need to go to hospital or something."
The Latina scoffed and dropped her shirt. "Yeah, right. First off, I'm not a wuss. The only time I've ever been to a hospital is when I had my tonsils out. Second, my mom would kill me. Third, even though my mom's going to kill me, I've got bandages and stuff at home."
Rachel was quiet and Santana saw her wringing her hands. Her eyes widened when she saw a large bruise forming on the cheerleader upper arm.
"God, please don't tell me that was me," she said in horror.
Rachel shuffled so that the bruise was out view. "It's fine," she mumbled.
"Rachel, no! It's not fine! Not in the least! Shit, I never…I didn't mean to hurt you."
"I know you didn't," Rachel replied. "Which is why it's ok. You were mad. I've said and done things that I regret when I'm mad. That's human nature."
"You should go," Santana said quietly.
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Yes, why?"
"Um, because I'm me and you're you?" Santana replied with a frown.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "This is me going back to what I said about me not being in your head. Explain in simple English what you mean. Please," she added.
"I thought you liked how I spoke," Santana said quietly, letting a small smile cross her face.
Ugh. Rachel Berry has turned you to mush. It's embarrassing.
"I do," Rachel replied. "But when you need to tell me something important, colouring it up with fancy words often just makes it harder to understand. And you need people to understand the important stuff, Santana."
Santana took a deep breath. "In war, everyone takes sides. And your side isn't with me."
"Says who?"
The Latina blinked in surprise and stared at Rachel.
"What?"
"Who says that my side isn't with you?"
"Because you're a cheerleader," Santana blurted, indicating her outfit.
Rachel smiled and shook her head. "You are a mess of contradictions, do you know that?"
"Oh, really?" Santana arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, really. You preach about how unfair the social hierarchy system is at school and how we should all be equal blah, blah, blah. But you've just told me that I shouldn't be with you because of that social hierarchy. Isn't that kind of defeating the purpose of everything you said back there?"
Santana rested her head against the chair. Was she just as bad as everyone in there? She didn't practise anything she was preaching.
God, I'm a fucking hypocrite!
"Look," Rachel said quietly. "Seeing as how you're so set on things changing, why not start with me? I mean, we've already caused quite a stir at school."
Santana glanced at the cheerleader. "What exactly are you proposing?"
Rachel shrugged. "Nothing apart from what we have been doing, really."
"Oh, so cutting school, getting into fights, those kind of things?" Santana teased.
Rachel grinned. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of dating?"
Santana's smile dropped a little. "Dating? You and me?"
"You didn't think we'd get this far, did you?"
"Honestly, no. I thought you'd get irritated with me or I'd get pissed off with you or something and that would be it. I guess I thought we'd be more of a fleeting thing."
"And now?" Rachel asked softly.
Santana cocked her head. "Honestly, I half expected you to abandon me for your former glory days pre-slushie."
"That doesn't really answer my question, Santana."
"Yeah, I know." She sighed. "Could you really see yourself dating me? Like in the long run? I mean, like longer than two months, say?"
Rachel nodded. "I know for a fact that our relationship will definitely be interesting and we'll probably fight and bitch at each other half the time-"
"And probably end up having sex the other half," Santana interrupted, chuckling.
"Exactly," Rachel said with a smile. "So, what do you say, Lopez? You think you can handle all of me for an as yet unidentified length of time?"
Santana grinned. "You know what, Cherry Berry?" she asked, leaning closer. "I think I could manage that."
"Awesome," Rachel whispered, closing the distance between them.
Brittany's face was seriously sore. Like fucking sore. Like she'd been smashed with a brick sore. Coach Em had been ranting for about twenty minutes now and the blonde had tuned her out roughly two minutes into said rant.
"Pierce!"
Brittany snapped to attention.
"Did you understand what I was saying?" Coach Em snapped, her wide eyes narrowed in anger.
"Totally," Brittany replied automatically.
Shit! Why did I say that? Do I have a concussion or something? Coach Em is gonna kill me!
"Brittany, I think you need to go and see the nurse," Coach Em said firmly.
"I'm fine, Coach," Brittany replied, trying to sound as serious as she could.
"See, normally I'd believe you, but you've been staring at that picture of me on my desk as opposed to actually looking at me."
Brittany blinked and squinted, but it really made her head hurt.
Crap. She's right.
"Uh, sorry, Coach," Brittany said, shifting her focus to the standing, real, version of her cheerleading coach. "I'm honestly fine."
"Nice try, Pierce. But you're going to Nurse Beiste now. We'll decide on your fate at a later date."
Brittany had to try really hard not to laugh at Coach Em's unintentional rhyming.
"Coach Em!"
Brittany turned around quickly and immediately regretted the action as her head started spinning and aching.
"Rachel," Coach Em said suspiciously. "Come to save your bestie's skin?"
"Um, sort of," Rachel replied, glancing at Brittany, who just waved.
"Well, first order of business is to get her to the nurse's office pronto and then we can talk."
Rachel nodded and put an arm around Brittany.
"Hi, Rach," she said brightly. "I totally kicked her ass, didn't I?"
"Uh, sure, B," Rachel mumbled.
"Yeah, I'm badass," Brittany said proudly. "I feel like dancing now."
"Uh, no. I think we need to get you to the nurse," Rachel chuckled. "You hit your head pretty hard."
"My head is pretty," Brittany replied, leaning heavily on Rachel as everything seemed very dizzy around her. "Whoa."
"Sure, B."
"You think I'm pretty, right, Rach?"
"Um, totally, B. You're a hot bitch."
"Yeah, I am," Brittany confirmed with a grin. "Where are we going?"
"To the nurse. You hit your head."
"But I won, right?"
"Um…"
"Rach, I totally kicked her ass! You saw it!"
"Oh, look, here we are!" Rachel said.
"Hi, Nurse Beiste!" Brittany said, waving. "This is my best friend, Rachel. She's gonna take care of me."
"Actually, you wouldn't mind doing that, would you?" Rachel said quickly, ducking under Brittany's arm and pushing her gently towards the monstrous Nurse Beiste. "I've got some damage control to do."
Brittany rested her head on Nurse Beiste's shoulder. "You should be a football coach. You're like, bigger than anyone I've ever seen."
"Hit your head, did you?" Nurse Beiste asked with humour in her voice.
"I got into a fight," Brittany said proudly, taking up a boxer's stance. "Totally kicked her ass too."
"So why are you the only one here?" Nurse Beiste teased.
Brittany opened her mouth, but then Nurse Beiste's words filtrated her brain. "Shit! She won, didn't she?"
"Let's have it, Berry," Coach Em said with a bored expression.
"You know why Brittany wanted to join the Glee Club, right?" Rachel started.
"Something about a boy. I don't concern myself with such unimportant things."
"What, boys?" Rachel couldn't help asking with a smirk.
Coach Em sat up and eyed her second-in-command.
"Someone has your spankies in a bunch," she remarked. "And not in the potential wedgie type of way."
Rachel blushed and grinned. "Well, now that you mention it, that's also why I'm here."
"Hold it," Coach Em said suddenly.
Rachel's smile fell from her face.
"Are you and that weird four-eyed weirdo getting it on?"
"Actually, no," Rachel admitted. "But we are together."
"Crap, Berry! Are you deliberately trying to single-handedly derail everything I've worked for?"
"Coach Em, you're looking at this is as a bad thing, when it could be a very, very good thing."
"I'm just dying to hear this little slice of genius," Coach Em said dryly.
"Yes, Santana and I are dating, and yes, she and Brittany did get into a fight-"
"Please tell me it wasn't over you," Coach Em interrupted, holding up a hand. "I mean, every human being in a five hundred mile radius from here knows that you're a muff diver, but I never expected Pierce to swing that way."
"Oh, no, she doesn't," Rachel replied. "No, the fight was actually because they're both incredibly stubborn and pig-headed-"
"That means the same thing, moron."
"Uh, right. Anyway, I have it on good authority that there might be a revolt soon."
"Against whom?" Coach Em said in horror.
"The top dogs."
"No!"
"I think it's started. You know I got slushied on Friday, right?"
"Scandal!"
Rachel grinned inwardly. This was working like a charm. Of course, Coach Em didn't need to know the real reason why she'd been slushied.
"What do you propose?"
"Well, I think that the best thing right now is to convince Schue that Santana doesn't get suspended because she's like the ringleader of the students who want things to change."
"And you're sleeping with her?" Coach Em asked, wrinkling her nose. "Sounds to me like I need to question your loyalties here, Berry."
Rachel knew how Coach Em's mind worked so she had a rebuttal prepared. "If I was against you, I'd sit back and let everyone get slushied. And by everyone, I mean teachers too. I reckon you might be one of the first. And I've been slushied. It's not pleasant, having all that syrup and ice running everywhere down your body, getting into everything. It's so...messy."
Coach Em's eyes went wide and she started pulling her gloves on tighter.
"Coach, here's the deal. Brittany needs to play nice. All the Cheerios need to play nice. Hell, all the jocks need to play nice. No more slushies. No more dumpster tosses. We may be the top dogs here, but they have numbers."
"Unfortunately, you're right. There are far too many losers at this damn school."
Rachel remained quiet as her coach went over all the possibilities, but she knew she'd nailed it with the messy comment.
"Fine. I'll talk to Schue. You talk to Brittany. And Rachel, you keep your ear to the ground and let me know the second this rebellion dissipates."
"Will do, Coach. But I wouldn't hold my breath. These guys are pissed. I mean, they slushied me."
Coach Em breathed sharply. "You're right. Dammit! I blame that Sylvester woman! Such backward thinking, telling kids that they should dream big. I'm realistic. I tell these kids that they're too fat or too stupid or too ugly. It's real life!"
"Totally," Rachel murmured, nodding outwardly but inwardly she was cringing.
"Out, Berry. Consider this a conversation that never took place."
"Understood," Rachel said, standing up brusquely and walking out.
It wasn't till she was at her locker that she pulled out her phone and texted Santana.
You owe me SO big. I'll be collecting very soon.
A/N: Yeah, once again this chapter didn't end up like I'd planned. Damn you, brain! Hope it was ok?
Also, for those who have read it, Purpose will be updated with Brittany's POV as soon as I'm in the right frame of mind to write it ;)
Oh, and Angelinside77, see if you can spot the funnies I put in there JUST FOR YOU! :)
Love me? Review? Heck, even if you hate me, review ;)
-H