Role Reversal Chapter 9, a glee fanfic

A/N: *ducks flying objects* I wasn't AWOL for that long, was I? A thousand apologies, good readers! Life, eish, she gets in the way (WhatIsWrongWithYou will get that joke ;p).

But hi *waves* I'm back with a new instalment and because I felt really bad about having a life outside of writing (pssssh, like WTF), I'm writing all weekend to give you guys as many updates to tide you over :)

Congrats to all the readers that scored 10 brownie points in the last chapter ;)

Also, one final note and this is pretty much the last time I'm going to mention this: This fic STARTS as Pezberry, but Brittana is endgame. I apologise if that will cause me to lose a few readers, but I know how this story is going to go…Apologies. You'll see I've changed the characters…

Anyway…onward and up!

-H

CHAPTER 9

Santana was walking very quickly out of the locker room. She hadn't said anything to Brittany, just stared at her before turning on her heel and fleeing the scene.

What in the hell just happened?

She was freaking out. Like really freaking out. Brittany Pierce, Head Cheerio, Wonder Barbie herself, had pretty much just admitted that she was jealous of Rachel. And Santana wasn't stupid enough to question what she was jealous of. What was the only thing that Rachel had that Brittany didn't (Other than twelve a-ok ribs)?

Her.

Santana Lopez.

Lupus.

Ugh.

This was messed up. Not a fuck was Rachel ever going to hear this from her. If Brittany felt so inclined to enlighten her best friend of her new revelation, then that was all on Blondie.

"Santana."

The Latina skidded to a stop and found herself exactly where she'd planned to come after dropping Rachel's bag off.

Yeah, before all that shit hit the fan.

"Ms. Sylvester," Santana replied, gathering herself as best as she could.

Forget about it. Forget her.

She stepped into the glee director's office and stood politely in front of her desk.

"How are you feeling?"

"Um, a little tender, but otherwise good," Santana replied. "Um, Ms. Sylvester, I would like to apologise for my behaviour last week. It was completely out of control and disrespectful. And it will never happen again."

Ms. Sylvester just looked at her with interest.

"You know I had nothing to do with your lack of punishment."

It wasn't a question, more a declaration.

Santana nodded. "I know what Rachel did. She told me everything that was said. I'm truly grateful for sticking her neck out for me like she did."

"She cares about you," Ms. Sylvester said.

Santana nodded and a small smile slipped onto her face. She had to admit that she hadn't thought she'd ever feel this way about Cherry Berry, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

"Um, Ms. Sylvester, I hope it's not out of place for me-"

"Ok, hold it," Ms. Sylvester interrupted and Santana quickly shut her mouth. "I get that you're sorry, but please cut the polite student thing. It's really weirding me out."

Santana laughed a little too hard and gripped the back of the chair she was standing behind as spasms of pain shot up her ribs.

"Damn, Ms. S," she wheezed. "I know I pissed you off, but do you have to encourage me to laugh?"

"That's more like it," Ms. Sylvester said with a smile. "Now, what did you want to ask me?"

"Why'd you cancel Glee last week?"

Santana was always to the point. She thought that after all the shit she'd pulled last week that being polite would be sensible, but people like Quinn and Ms. Sylvester forgave her and just wanted their normal Santana back.

The glee director put the pen she'd had in her hand and gave Santana that keen interest look again. It was a little unsettling, like she was drilling into her brain to deposit little nanobots to record her every move. Uh…what if they recorded when she and Rachel were-

"Santana!"

"I'm here!" she said quickly.

God, her mind had been given a free reign, sitting at home. She was back at school now – she needed to reel it in.

"I said that I felt we needed to re-evaluate why we were all there. I know I sure as hell did."

Santana dropped her head. She hadn't meant to make people feel guilty.

Yeah, calling bullshit on that one, Santa.

Ugh, why did the voice in her head have to sound like Miguel sometimes?

Ok, so she had meant for people to feel guilty. Guilt spurred reactions. It had kicked Rachel into action.

"Have you re-evaluated?"

Ms. Sylvester nodded. "Choir room. Three pm."

Santana smiled. "See you then."

Brittany stared at her reflection in the mirror.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fucking fuck?

She wasn't exactly sure how long she'd been hiding out in the Cheerios locker room, but she vaguely remembered two bells ringing. So what was that? First period? Second period?

The basin was full and Brittany just buried her face in the cold water. Something had to shake her out of the zombified state she was in.

Did you just say zombified?

She blamed Rachel. Because Rachel was hanging with a nerd and she had started saying random shit like that. Brittany didn't like how Santana Lopez had arrived on the scene and just messed everything up.

Yes, it was her fault.

Her fault.

Brittany was definitely not to blame.

Shit.

What in the hell had made her say that? Maybe the pain meds were still running through her system.

Yes! That's totally a valid excuse.

She'd just tell Santana that she was high on pain meds. She'd apologise to Rachel and everything would be fine. Totally fine.

Yes.

Because she was definitely not jealous of Rachel. She was her best friend. Yeah, they bitched each other out endlessly, but they were actual friends and Brittany had everything that Rachel had, and more.

Except-

Shut up.

Great. Her conscience was at war with itself. Brittany was running out of air and lifted her face out of the cold water. She didn't feel much different, though.

Ok, just sit down and fucking sort your head out.

Brittany could do that. Who the fuck cared if she missed class? She'd just get some freshman degenerate to do her work.

Crap. What if Berry's new awkward-as-shit rules meant she couldn't do that anymore? Ugh. What was the point of working so damn hard to be on the top if it didn't mean anything?

Focus.

Right.

Santana. Santana with Rachel. Or was it Rachel with Santana? Why had she thought she was jealous of Rachel? More importantly, why had she pretty much told Santana that she was jealous that Rachel was with her.

Her and not you?

Please. As if. Brittany Pierce was not gay. She'd never even kissed a girl. Besides, her parents would flip a fucking lid. As it was, they were barely home, but when they were, Brittany was the picture-perfect daughter. They had no idea about her partying, her drinking or her sexual escapades.

Something was up with Lopez, though. Sure, she'd caught them making out a couple of times and it had been hot. But, hey, that's why Rachel had done it in front of the guys – to tease them because they loved it for some reason.

Ok, so maybe Brittany had a very small idea of what that reason could be. Girls were sensual. They were soft and small and smooth and no there was absolutely no reason why every single one of those adjectives started with the same letter as Santana. Utter coincidence.

Brittany flopped onto the bench, wincing only slightly as she bent over and dropped her head into her hands.

Fine, so if she acknowledged that Santana was ok looking for a girl-

Bullshit, she's smoking. And Rachel was right – her abs could rival yours.

What the hell was the point of this if her fucking conscience was going to interrupt her every fucking five seconds with pointless remarks?

Pointless my ass. You know I'm right. And you can't shut me up. Sucker.

Brittany huffed. Ok, then if conscience was such a fucking smartass then maybe it could explain to her why she would have said something so crazy to Santana?

Uh, duh. Maybe you shouldn't skip so many classes, Blondie.

Seriously? Now she had to take abuse? Fuck this. Brittany stood up and grabbed her bag. And no, she wasn't going to class just because her fucking conscience had told her to.

You like Santana Lopez. And you like her the way you're supposed to like boys.

She froze. No, no, no, no, no. She did not like Santana Lopez! The bitch had fucking cracked two of her ribs! And punched her in the face! And given her a concussion – something that had put her out of cheering for a whole fucking month and she was not happy about it.

Brittany tried focusing that anger toward the Latina, but then she remembered that damn smirk and those ridiculously dorky glasses and…

"Shit."

Oh, yeah. Told ya. You should just accept it and challenge Berry for Santana's honour.

Honour? Yeah, she was definitely still high on the meds. Once again, she blamed Rachel. Because Rachel hung out with Santana. And Santana spoke like that. And they probably did a whole lot of other stuff-

Jesus! You really enjoy thinking of Santana getting all hot and bothered, don't you?

"No," Brittany growled to the empty locker room.

Screw this. She wasn't going to have her entire fucking high school career thrown down the tubes because of some medically-induced hallucination where Santana Lopez was suddenly attractive and sexy and sassy and-

Brittany shook her head. Goddamn 's' adjectives. They needed to be torn out of the dictionary and burned.

No.

She was Brittany Pierce and she was the HBIC at William McKinley High. So she wasn't able to slushie anyone anymore. Big whoop. She could deal. And how would she deal? The same was she dealt with everything – throw a party.

What was that saying? The quickest way to get over someone was to get under someone else. Well, Santana Lopez herself had suggested that Brittany do that, and because she was such a good friend, she'd listen to what her new friend had advised.

Brittany grinned. Whatever this random thing with Santana was would be gone by the time her party came around. Her parents were scheduled to be in England or some shit in two weeks, which coincided perfectly with her ribs and concussion being pretty much healed.

She pulled out her phone and set the event up on Twitter and Facebook. She'd peruse the guest list later and delete the undesirables.

Oh, yes. Fierce Pierce was back, bitches.

Santana saw Brittany at the Cheerios table during lunch and frowned. Rachel had said that they were all supposed to have some extra practice. But then again, it wouldn't surprise Santana if she'd just scheduled it for Rachel.

She winced. Sometime between learning about the levels of mitosis and irregular Spanish verbs, she'd decided that she was going to really give Brittany the benefit of doubt, for Rachel's sake if anything. What had been said in the locker room before school was immaterial. Santana was with Rachel.

"Hey," Quinn said, sitting down next to her at the Glee table, but getting a strange look on her face as soon as she did.

"What's-" Santana started to ask, but her best friend just sprinted out of the cafeteria.

"She ok?" Tina asked, raising an eyebrow.

Santana turned around and shrugged. "Probably a nasty fruit shake or something this morning. No idea how she drinks that shit."

Tina chuckled and Santana breathed an internal sigh of relief. She glanced back to the door that Quinn had disappeared through, but there was no sign of her blonde bob.

"So, what'd I miss?" Santana asked, popping a cheese fry into her mouth. "You know, other than my bionic eye. I actually thought that was quite cool."

"Um," Tina said, glancing down at her food.

"Let me guess," Santana said with a smirk. "The hot topic was not, in fact, my awesome showdown with one Brittany Pierce, but in all actuality, it was the fact that Glee was cancelled all of last week."

Tina smiled, but it wasn't a full one. She was nervous, Santana could tell. She rolled her eyes. "Relax, T. I was kidding. I know people have been talking about me and Rachel."

Tina's eyes went wide and Santana mused that she couldn't actually tell the difference. She giggled to herself and Tina just looked at her weirdly.

"So, is it true?" she asked in a whisper.

"Is what true?" Santana replied, raising and eyebrow and popping another cheese fry into her mouth.

"About you and Rachel."

"What about me and Rachel?" Santana grinned and munched another fry. God, they were so deliciously bad.

Tine rolled her eyes and Santana's narrowed slightly as Mercedes sat down next to her.

"Hey," Mercedes said quietly.

"Have you met Miss Jones?" Santana sang.

Mercedes grinned and Santana matched it. It had been their code thing since elementary school. Out of everyone at McKinley, Santana had known Mercedes the longest. They'd grown up together in Lima Heights Adjacent, but had moved into a bigger house in upmarket Lima when her brothers had started high school.

"What's the gab?" Mercedes asked, tossing a tot into her mouth.

"Well, I'd just asked-" Tina began.

"Hey!" Mercedes protested when Santana grabbed two tots and popped in her mouth.

Santana grinned a mouthful of potato and Mercedes and Tina grimaced.

"Ugh. Can't say we've missed your manners around here," Mercedes muttered.

Santana swallowed. "I know you guys missed me. Cos you came to sit at my table."

"This is the Glee table," Tina replied with a frown.

"Nope, I renamed it the Santana Lopez Table Of Unbridled Kickassery."

"And when did you do that?"

"Beginning of lunch," Santana replied. She shrugged. "You guys should feel honoured that I'm actually allowing you to bask in my presence. You are the first two that have been extended that prestige."

Tina and Mercedes burst out laughing.

"Ok, so maybe we missed you a little," Mercedes admitted.

"Santana, you have successfully avoided answering my question about four times," Tina accused. "So let's have it."

"I think I should check on Quinn," Santana said, making a big show of looking around.

"Relax, she's here," Mercedes said, inclining her head towards the main doors.

Santana spun around and saw her best friend being led by her girlfriend.

Hmmm. Guess they're more friendly than I thought.

"Hey," Santana greeted both of them. "You ok, Quinnie?"

Quinn nodded slightly and sat down next to Santana.

"Thought you had some Cheerios smackdown?" the Latina asked her girlfriend.

Rachel grinned and rolled her eyes. "No, dork. We were supposed to have extra training during, but I was the only one there so I just bailed." She glanced at the full Cheerios table. "Not that B looks too perturbed."

"Mmmkay," Santana replied. She tugged on Rachel's skirt to make her bend down so she could whisper in her ear. "Thanks for taking care of Quinn. She doesn't normally let people see her like that. That's why I stayed here."

Rachel sat down next to her on the bench and the cafeteria seemed to go a little quieter.

"I didn't do anything, really," Rachel whispered back in Santana's ear, using her hand to hide the words from Mercedes and Tina's inquisitive eyes. "I went into the bathroom as she was coming out the stall. I just made sure no one else came in while she cleaned herself."

Santana smiled. "More brownie points for you."

"Score." Rachel fist pumped and laughed.

"Hey, Rachel."

Santana looked up and frowned with displeasure at the very punchable face of Artie Abrams.

"Artie," Rachel said diplomatically.

"You seem to be a little lost, Rach. Me and the boys thought we'd escort you back to your table."

The emphasis that he put on your made Santana's teeth grate a little.

"Nah, I'm good," Rachel replied, grabbing one of Santana's cheese fries. "Besides, you guys still think that this lame attempt at chivalry is gonna convince me that you don't want a peek at these rambunctious twins. Sorry, fellas, but only one girl gets to see these babies."

Santana laughed and clutched the table as pain shot through her stomach.

"Jesus, babe, you weren't supposed to laugh," Rachel berated the Latina.

"How the fuck did you expect me to stay quiet after that comment?' Santana said through gasps. "Fuck, that was amazing, Rach."

"Well, I guess that answers that question," Tina said to no one in particular.

Santana rolled her eyes and straddled the bench so that she faced her girlfriend who still looked a little concerned. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Artie still standing there.

"Hey, buddy," she called. "Take a hint. What you're packing, she doesn't want. As, I'm sure, do the majority of women in Lima."

Now it was Rachel's turn to burst out laughing. She rested her hand on Santana's leg as a brace. The Latina grinned and spun around to check on Quinn.

"You ok, friendling?"

Quinn smiled faintly at the old nickname. "Just a little tired," she said quietly. "It's taking a lot out of me."

Santana frowned and sat normally again so that she could lean closer to Quinn.

"Do you want to go home? Or to the doctor or something?" She said is so softly that she knew only Quinn could hear her.

Quinn shook her head, her blonde bob bouncing slightly. "I'm good, San. Thanks. Really," she insisted.

Santana gave her a wary look and pretended to examine her with each eye, closing each one, taking her glasses off and putting them back on. Eventually, a small laugh escaped from her best friend's lip.

"Booyah," she congratulated herself.

Quinn just smiled and went back to her chicken salad. She felt Rachel's fingers slip between her own and rest on her deliciously bare leg.

"Yummy," Santana murmured, glancing at their different skin tones against her girlfriend's tanned thigh.

Rachel chuckled. "I think the word you're looking for is wanky," she said in a low voice.

Santana cocked an eyebrow. "The word I'm searching for, I can't say because there are people from Lima Heights Adjacent present," she replied, ending her sentence as a stage whisper.

"Fucking hilarious, Lopez," Mercedes muttered, but there was a smile on her face.

Santana winked at her and turned back to Rachel, who was leaning on her hand, her elbow resting on the table.

"What?' Santana asked curiously.

"Just thinking."

"Good thing you're sitting down then," Santana teased, earning herself a shoulder slap from her girlfriend. "Hey! I'm injured. You're not allowed to abuse me."

"Ha! Don't think I don't know about the touch football game you convinced your brothers to let you play in yesterday," Rachel said with a glare.

Santana's mouth dropped open. "And I thought my methods of confidentiality torture were so effective," she mused.

"Santana, be serious! You can't risk prolonging your recovery."

"Why?" Santana asked with a devious smile.

Rachel reddened, but her confidence wasn't shaken. "So that I won't have to run around after your lazy ass."

"Pffft. You love my ass."

Rachel grinned. "Not as much as you love mine."

"Oh dear God, please stop!" Tina squeaked. "Seriously, I can't actually handle this. Rachel, what the hell have you done to her?"

"I am free of any and all blame," Rachel said quickly, holding her hands up. One of them was still entwined with Santana's and at seeing such an obvious display of togetherness, both Mercedes and Tina's mouths dropped open.

"Quinn, you seem awfully quiet," Mercedes commented. She always was a shit stirrer. "Did you know about this?"

"It was kinda obvious when they were making out in Santana's living room," Quinn replied calmly.

"We were not making out!" Santana argued.

"We kinda were, babe," Rachel replied.

"Shut up," Santana said, holding up a hand. "Quinnie, I didn't know you were coming over. Otherwise I would've like, met you at the door or something."

"San, how could you have known? I was being an ass, completely ignoring you. It was Rachel that got me to come over."

Santana turned and looked at her girlfriend. She was feeling a very interesting mix of emotions.

"You went behind my back after I asked you not to?" she asked Rachel, setting her jaw.

Rachel shrugged. "You did the same to Quinn. And hey, it got you guys talking again."

"Uh oh," Santana heard Mercedes whisper.

"Not even close to the point," Santana snapped. "Did it occur to you that I wanted to suffer the consequences of my actions?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "A little melodramatic much? You spent all week in that bed, complaining about how sorry you were. That was long enough. You were driving me crazy and I'm pretty sure your mom was about to tape your mouth closed. So I did you a favour. And you can pay me back later." She grabbed another cheese fry and wiggled her eyebrows. "Much later."

"San, just say thank you and let it go," Quinn said in her quiet voice. She only ever used it on Santana and the Latina knew her best friend well enough to know the power that voice wielded over her.

"Fine, Cherry Berry, but I don't owe you shit. You went behind my back."

Rachel laughed. "Oh my God, the sex is going to be amazing."

The entire table went quiet, as well as a few tables around them. Eyes were on Rachel and Santana rolled her own.

"Bravo, big mouth."

"Whatever. You like that about me too."

Santana couldn't hold back the smirk that had been fighting its way onto her face.

"Uh, you're too fucking charming, dammit," she said, trying to sound irritated.

Rachel grinned. "And that's why you dream about me every night."

"Oh, Jesus. Is it going to be like this all the time with you two?" Tina asked, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

"Yes," Santana, Rachel and Quinn all said.

"You kinda just ignore it and eventually it'll blend into the background," Quinn said, with a smirk that Santana hadn't seen since the beginning of summer.

Santana gasped, holding her hand to her chest in fake disbelief. "Quinnocence! Doth my ears deceive me? Hast though forgotten mine face? What hast these demonic fruit shakes done to thine awesome brain?"

The table burst out laughing again and Santana leaned her head on Rachel's shoulder, allowing her girlfriend to link their fingers together again.

Ugh. So sickeningly cute. Brittany rolled her eyes at Santana leaning her head on Rachel's shoulder. She turned back to her fellow Cheerios and sighed.

"I'm bored," she stated.

"Oh, God, I thought I was the only one," one of the seniors breathed out. "Britt, seriously, you can't support Berry's crazy idea? I mean, she's only doing this to get in Santana's pants."

Brittany shrugged. "Look, guys, she saved my ass. So I owe her. We're doing this. It's kinda shitty because it's still new and we're not used to it, but it'll get easier. When we walk though these doors with that Sectionals trophy, no one will need reminding who the top bitches are in this school."

She saw some of the Cheerios nodding in agreement and arched an eyebrow at the rest.

"Ship up or ship out, ladies," was all she said before standing up and heading out the cafeteria.

She chanced a look at Rachel and saw Santana looking at her. Their eyes met and Brittany felt a chill.

It was just a draft from the open door. She broke the look and continued through the double doors.

Yeah, right.

Did consciences laugh? Cos it sure as hell sounded like that's what hers was doing.

Brittany walked into Glee as Ms. Sylvester had started whatever lame speech was meant to inspire them that week.

"Brittany," Ms. Sylvester greeted.

The blonde returned a half-hearted wave and sat in her usual seat in the back row. As Ms. Sylvester droned on, it occurred to Brittany that she hadn't actually been back in this room since the fight. She looked around. There was certainly no evidence. She'd half expected to see some dried blood on the walls or something.

She chuckled to herself.

"Something humourous about that, Brittany?"

"Wha...?"

"Did you find something funny about what I just said?" Ms. Sylvester repeated.

"Well, if I knew what that was, then probably," Brittany replied.

There were a few muted snickers. Ms. Sylvester folded her arms across her chest and looked at her expectantly.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Fine, I was just wondering why there's no dried blood or anything. I figure there should be cos that's probably the most action this room will ever see."

"Actually, last year-"

"Yeah, didn't ask you, Queen Quinn."

"B," Rachel said warningly from her position next to Santana.

"Apologies, Quinn," Brittany said. She shrugged. "It just kinda looks like it was erased like it never happened."

"Four broken chairs," Ms. Sylvester said, indicating four haphazardly stacked chairs in the far corner by the door.

"Hey, one for each of my cracked ribs!" Santana said enthusiastically, holding up her hand for Rachel to high five.

Brittany's best friend obliged giggling and the blonde tried not to grimace. Yeah, she definitely was not interested in Santana Lopez. She felt sorry for Rachel, really. Did she not see how boinking the school weirdo was going to destroy her rep?

"Moving along," Ms. Sylvester said crisply. "After no Glee last week-"

Damn, came back to school in the wrong week.

"-I have come up with a very appropriate theme for this week. I think that at least two of our members should think long and hard about which song they want to choose."

"May we do a duet?" Quinn asked.

"If you choose," Ms. Sylvester. "But see if the assignment is applicable first."

"Ms. S, you're keeping us in suspenders here, and I, for one, left my spare pair in my abuelo's Humvee."

The group chuckled and Brittany rolled her eyes again, ignoring the small tug that her mouth was trying to pull off at Santana's comment.

Ms. Sylvester smiled. "Accountability."

Ugh. Seriously? Way to be subtle, Ms. S.

"Oh, I am so on this," Santana said, standing up.

"What, now?" Ms. Sylvester looked shocked.

"Ms. S, you're all kinds of awesomery, but you're kinda predictable. And this also happens to be one of my favourite songs, so if you'll allow me to kick this week off with a dash of Adam Levine?"

"Ooooh, that boy be super fine," Mercedes said, swooning.

"Don't get us confused, though, k?" Santana said with a straight face. "Cos I'm pretty sure Rachel will have to beat your ass to defend my honour and then we'll all have to come back here next week after Glee being cancelled because we need another lesson in accountability."

This time Brittany let out a little snort and she caught Santana's gaze. She smiled and Brittany tried to wipe her face clean, but the way she spoke was very…distracting. She understood what Rachel meant now.

No, wait! What? Argh.

This was not happening. Fierce Pierce, dammit! Fierce Pierce!

"Welcome back, Santana," Ms. Sylvester said dryly. "Whenever you're ready."

"Hmmmkay. So, this song is awesome and I am awesome, therefore it only stands to reason-"

"Geez, and you say I talk a lot?" Quinn interrupted.

Everyone laughed and Santana huffed. Brittany thought it was kind of cute.

Wait, no she didn't. She absolutely didn't. It was the meds.

"Don't make start spouting Shakespeare again," Santana threatened with a smile. "Ok, but in all seriousness, I was an ass last week. I got hot-headed and let my emotions get ahead of me. So to Brittany, I apologise, once again, in a public setting."

Brittany blinked. Santana was talking to her. And looking at her.

Ugh.

She nodded curtly and Santana shot her a cute little smile.

God dammit! It wasn't fucking cute!

"And to Rach, you know how much I appreciate what you did, so thank you again. To Quinn and Ms. S, I apologise as well, because I disrespected both of you and I am truly sorry that I let that happen."

"We get it, you're all sorry and mopey," Mercedes cut in, snapping her fingers. "Less jabber, more singing. Come on, Miss Levine!"

Santana rolled her eyes and skipped over to the band, leaning closer to discuss the song.

And no, Brittany's eyes were not roaming towards her ass. It wasn't even close! She's simply glanced at the drum set where Santana happened to be standing. She absolutely was not looking at her ass. Even though it was cute.

Not fucking cute! Brittany wanted to scream.

She watched as Santana blew a kiss to Rachel and winked at her. The band started up and she arched an eyebrow. This was going to be very tongue in cheek.

How dare you say that my behaviour is unacceptable
So condescending unnecessarily critical
I have the tendency of getting very physical
So watch your step cause if I do you'll need a miracle

You drain me dry and make me wonder why I'm even here
This double vision I was seeing is finally clear
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone
Not fit to friggin' tread the ground I'm walking on

The other members joined in on the chorus and Brittany swore her foot got a little mind of its own as it started tapping to the beat.

When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're gonna give up
And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams
Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe

What you are doing is screwing things up inside my head
You should know better, you never listened to a word I said
Clutching your pillow and writhing in a naked sweat
Hoping somebody someday will do you like I did

Brittany saw Ms. Sylvester raise her eyebrows at some of the lyrics, but the blonde thought that somehow Santana would get away with it because clearly she had a knack for it.

And, it had to be said, she had a knack for singing. Not just a knack. She had a fucking good voice and Brittany reckoned Adam Levine would be proud of her rendition.

Santana walked up to where Rachel was sitting and crouched, looking at her seductively as she sang the last bit of the song.

Does it kill
Does it burn
Is it painful to learn
That it's me that has all the control

Rachel laughed out loud at that and slapped Santana's ass as she turned around to dance.

Once again, it was not Brittany's fault that she saw that. And her gaze may have lingered, but it was only because she wanted to check what type of jeans Santana was wearing.

Lame! Her conscience sang.

Does it thrill
Does it sting
When you feel what I bring
And you wish that you had me to hold

Brittany frowned and didn't miss Santana's subtle glance in her direction as she made her way back down to the floor for the final chorus.

The applause was loud and Santana bowed low. Brittany saw her in slight discomfort. Singing with cracked ribs probably wasn't the best idea. But it seemed that Santana Lopez ran on ideas that bordered on the crazy line.

Yet another reason why Brittany had every intention of staying far away from her. Not that she would need to because being in the same room with her was totally fine.

See? Rachel just kissed her and it was fine. So she wasn't jealous. It was the meds, Or indigestion. Or something. Definitely not anything to do with feelings.

"Santana, as…questionable as your song choice was-"

"Ah, come on, Ms. S. That song was bangin'," Santana interrupted with a grin.

Bangin'? Brittany mouthed to herself.

"Regardless, Santana, please remember lyric appropriateness in this room. I don't care what you sing at home, but when you're at school or representing the school, you will not sing songs that laud sexuality."

"Cos I don't?" Santana asked, pouting. "Ms. S, I may have to go to therapy now or something."

Ms. Sylvester smiled and shook her head. "I'll see you all tomorrow. Start working on those accountability numbers!"

Brittany grabbed her bag and was out the door before anyone else had even risen out of their seats. She made her way quickly out to the parking lot and cringed when the familiar high-pitched voice of her coach carried across the lot.

"Pierce!"

Brittany turned around and dutifully retraced her steps to wear Coach Em was waiting on the stairs.

"Progress report?' she demanded.

"Good. Rachel has let the squad slacken a little, but I'll whip them back into shape by Thursday for the pep assembly on Friday."

"Good. Nothing less than perfection," Coach Em said, raising an eyebrow.

"Absolutely, Coach," Brittany replied, nodding.

She watched the Ginger Ninja disappear inside and rolled her eyes. Melodramatic much?

Brittany turned and walked back to her car, humming. She stopped herself when she realised it was Harder To Breathe. The song was catchy. That was it.

"Hey, B!"

"What now?" Brittany muttered, unlocking her car and tossing her bag inside. She leaned against her car as she waited for Rachel to jog up to her.

"Hey," Rachel said breathlessly when she reached her.

"Hi," Brittany replied, trying to look disinterested as she looked out across the lot.

Unfortunately, her eyes came to rest on one Santana Lopez and the look she was giving Brittany was very clear: Make up.

When the hell did this become the fucking Santana Lopez Show?

"I'm sorry, Rach," Brittany said quietly. "I was a bitch this morning. I didn't mean what I said."

Rachel's smile kinda made it worth it. She had a really big smile and it filled her whole face. Almost. Sort of. But it suited her.

"Thanks, Britt. I can't tell you how much that means to me."

Brittany just nodded.

"Oh, um, I wanted to ask you if it would be ok if I was a little late to practice tomorrow morning?"

"No," Brittany replied automatically. "You know the rules, Rach."

"Yeah, I know, but I need to fetch Santana tomorrow morning because she can't drive yet-"

"I'm driving," Brittany cut in. "And I shouldn't be."

"Your mom and brothers won't behead me if I let her get behind the wheel of a car," Rachel replied with a smile. "Her family's crazy."

"Met the parents, huh?" Brittany teased. "Guess you're serious about this one?"

Rachel smiled a shrugged, turning to look at Santana. "I dunno," she mumbled. "Maybe. Kinda."

Brittany fake-smiled. It was her best weapon. She'd perfected it from an early age and used it on everyone.

"So, how late are we talking here? And why can't Quinn take her?"

"Quinn has…something on tomorrow morning otherwise she would. Um, I'd be like twenty minute late?"

"Make it ten, Berry," Brittany replied. "And you'll get five laps for your troubles."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Thanks, B. You're the best."

"Hmmm," Brittany replied, opening her car door.

The next ten seconds happened in slow motion. Brittany watched Rachel running to where her car was parked. Santana was leaning against it, talking with Quinn. When she saw Rachel running up, she hugged Quinn goodbye and the blonde turned away. She must not have seen the cyclist. He definitely didn't see him and he was going really fast.

"Quinn!"

Santana's cry came too late as the cyclist barrelled into Quinn, the handlebars hitting her square in the stomach. She flew back about five metres and lay on the ground, her body still.

A/N: Soooo, lots happened in that chapter. I felt it was time we got back to nerdy San. Cos she's all sorts of hot :)

Hope I did Brittany's inner monologue slash turmoil okay. I write as I thought, which is kinda how I figure her mind would be working.

And told you I was gonna do something different with the baby storyline… :)

Is it weird that as I was editing, I was laughing at some of the random shit I made Santana say?

Song was Harder To Breathe by Maroon 5. Hot song. Hot vid. Adam Levine is amazeballs.

OH! For those who are so inclined, my completed novella is up on FictionPress…

New update will be coming soon :)

-H