A/N: First – I feel this is incredibly important (and it applies to all my fics) – regardless of what's happening on the show, I have not given up on Brittana, nor will I. That being said, my fics will not be neglected. I feel like a lot of the fics and authors that I follow have simply given up on their stories because the lack of Brittana on the show is uninspiring. I'm not judging – that's their choice. As a reader as well as a writer, I know what it's like to wait for updates and it's hella disappointing when it doesn't come. You guys can't get rid of me that easily :p

I know that probably sounds hypocritical considering how long it's taken me to update, and I do apologise for that. Reasons vary and I don't think you need to know the details, but I am sorry. I wish that I had enough time to just write and update daily. Hopefully, updates will be a little more frequent in the future. Work has eased up a bit.

As always, your responses are overwhelming and amazing and wow.

Quite a bit of Britt this chapter… :)

Onwards and up!

-H

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee :(

CHAPTER 23

Santana leaned against her car, checking her social media feeds on her phone as she waited for Rachel. They were headed to some sushi place that Rachel loved. Santana wasn't a big fan of raw fish, but she was eager to talk to her ex and try to figure out what the actual hell was going on with them.

"Hey."

She looked up and met Rachel's guarded eyes. She supposed it was understandable. As hot as their make out session had been the previous afternoon, it was impulsive and probably not the best solution to a big problem.

"Hey." Santana opened the passenger door for Rachel and the cheerleader slid in. Within two minutes, they were on their way, the silence in the car only broken by Rachel's murmured directions.

"Why is this so weird?" Rachel asked once they were seated in the restaurant with two glasses of water.

Santana shrugged, studying the condensation on her glass. "I don't know. We've never really had to deal with awkward before."

"So why this strange uneasiness now?"

The Latina sighed and looked up. "Maybe because I feel like shit for what I did and I'm not entirely sure if this is possibly some elaborate scheme to humiliate me for hurting you. Which, in all honesty, I probably deserve."

"Wow. Thanks for crediting me with some tact," Rachel replied dryly, frowning.

"No, Rach, that wasn't an underhanded dig at you. I guess I'm just wondering why you would want to even talk to me, let alone initiate a really hot make out sesh."

The cheerleader couldn't hide her grin. "Well, like I said, San…I miss you. Regardless of how things ended between us – and don't think that I'm any less hurt or angry about it – you meant a lot to me and it's difficult for me to just forget like you didn't somehow worm your way inside my head and my heart."

Santana looked at her for a few moments, her eyes taking in every muscle movement and reaction as she spoke.

"I miss you too," she eventually murmured. "But you can understand my confusion regarding this whole situation that we find ourselves in, right? I mean, you say that you're still mad – understandably – and hurt, but you kissed me. Regardless of the purpose behind that first kiss, you still did it. You made the first move. I can't figure that part out."

Rachel nibbled on her bottom lip. "I don't do feelings or relationships. You know that. Well, I didn't before I met you. I guess maybe this feeling is why relationships in high school are always so complicated. We can't let go of this pull."

"Pull?"

"Yeah. I don't really know how to explain without sounding like a fucking sap."

"I like it when you're a sap," Santana murmured.

Rachel was quiet for a few seconds, but they didn't look at each other. "I feel connected to you, more than I've felt connected to anyone else. And it's a different kind of connection than the one I have with my dads or with Britt."

Santana winced inwardly.

"I feel drawn to you. I mean, you fucking hurt me worse than I've ever been hurt in my life, but I still can't stop thinking about you and missing you. Which is why I didn't regret kissing you yesterday. It felt…invigorating."

That coaxed an arched eyebrow from Santana. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Not like that. Perv."

Santana just grinned.

"Riddle me this, Lopez. You kissed me back pretty eagerly."

"Well, yeah. I still care about you. And I do miss you like crazy. I miss being with you in every way that we were together. Not just physically. I miss being able to hold your hand when we walked to lunch, or driving you home, or doing homework together-"

"Our library study sessions."

"Our impulsive ice cream missions."

"Singing with you in Glee."

"Dancing with you in Glee."

They looked at each other and Santana could swear that she saw Rachel fighting with herself.

"What do you want, Rachel? Honestly?"

Rachel scoffed. "What do I honestly want? I want to transfer myself to a reality where you and Brittany had never started fighting. Where you could actually get along."

Santana bit her lip. "Rach, a reality like that sounds like a badly written TV show."

"Is it really so difficult to imagine?"

"I…" Santana frowned. Was it really unfathomable that she and Brittany could ever be…friends? Or anything more than that?

Stop. You're not going down that rabbit hole again.

"Rachel, I think Brittany and I just clash way too much on so many things that we can't get along. Trust me, if there was a way for her to not feel so fucking threatened by me for some unknown reason, I'd jump on the band wagon and fanfare down the halls of McKinley. But that's wishful thinking. There's obviously something about me that she doesn't like."

Or likes too much.

Santana grimaced inwardly. That would be so completely fucked up on way too many levels.

"I'm going to speak to her when we get back to school," Rachel said. "What happened yesterday…what she said…it was completely uncalled for."

"I'm sorry for being blunt, but why are you friends with her, Rach? I mean, she's a bitch, even to you. Is it worth it?"

Rachel caught their waitress and ordered a platter for them before meeting Santana's eyes. "My friendship with Brittany is…odd, I suppose. We don't have sleepovers or do any of the normal best friend things, but she's always got my back. Just like I have hers."

"Yet here you are, sitting with me because your best friend pulled a Jerry Springer special on us all. I just…I guess I'm trying to understand if it's me, or you or us together that seems to set her off."

"I wish I knew. What I do know is that Brittany doesn't have a say in what I do with my life. The same as I don't care that she's fucking Finn Hudson every day because she needs validation that she's a hot piece of ass."

Santana didn't bother hiding her grimace. She hated that she wasn't sure if it was because of Brittany sleeping with Finn or if it was because she was sleeping with Finn.

"Ok, so we've covered that your best friend is crazy and that we obviously still have feelings for each other. Now what?"

Rachel sighed. "I can't…we can't be together again, Santana. At least…well, it's still too fresh, you know?"

"Totally. But the whole making out thing confuses things if we're not getting back together."

"Um, yeah. Ok, so it's pointless to suggest that we pretend it didn't happen because a) it was way too hot to be forgotten and b) we've already admitted that we miss each other so it makes zero sense denying that."

"Rachel, I'm really sorry," Santana said quietly. "I know it's redundant and sounds like bullshit, but I really never wanted to hurt you. Obviously, you were hurt and I hate that it was because of me."

Rachel was quiet for a while. "For those ten minutes yesterday, I felt better than I have in days. I felt calm and like I was exactly where I supposed to be."

Santana lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

"However, we're not getting back together, Santana. It may have felt right and we may still have feelings for each other and be attracted to each other, but I can't…I can't trust you with my heart again. Not when you broke it so easily before."

Santana dropped her head and nodded. "So, if we're not forgetting yesterday, but not getting back together, then what are we?"

"How about we try being friends?"

"Friends?"

"Yeah, friends."

"Friends who've slept together?" Santana asked sceptically. "I don't know, Rachel. Do you think we could be just friends?"

Rachel shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But I've realised that trying to pretend that you're not intertwined in my life is stupid. Because you are, in so many ways. Look, I know it's not going to be easy for us, but I'd like to at least try." She looked up and locked eyes with her ex. "If we were to ever get back together, we need to start somewhere."

Santana felt hope surge through her, but tried to quell her excitement. She nodded a few times. "Ok. Let's do the friends thing. We gotta start somewhere."

Rachel smiled. "Good."

Brittany was grabbing some water from a fountain when she saw Rachel and Santana walk back into school just before lunch was due to end. They were smiling and talking as though nothing had happened over the last few days.

Which only cemented her fear of what she'd seen after their rehearsal the previous day.

"Hey, Britt," Rachel said as they walked up.

She just raised an eyebrow at her best friend in question. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Get over yourself, B. Santana and I are working on our friendship."

"Friendship?" She hated that she felt her hopes go up a tiny little bit.

"Yeah. Gotta start somewhere," Rachel replied, smiling at Santana who returned it.

"Um, I'm gonna go and see if I can catch Quinn before Chem. See you in Glee, Rach. Um, bye, Brittany," she mumbled before walking off quickly.

Brittany watched her go down the corridor until Rachel huffing drew her attention.

"What?" she asked at the unimpressed look on her best friend's face.

"You are honestly the most frustrating person in the world to try and understand. One minute you're telling her she's worthless and the next you just ignore her."

Brittany shrugged nonchalantly, even though her heart rate picked up a little. Rachel couldn't figure out what had happened. She couldn't. It would be humiliating. For both of them.

"What's up with the whole friendship thing?" she asked instead, diverting the attention off her erratic behaviour.

Rachel sighed. "Yesterday when Santana ran out, I followed her out and she just started babbling about how she'd never be good enough for me and how everything was her fault. Basically agreeing with the bullshit that you were spewing."

"Bullshit?" Brittany asked in amusement. "Really? Sounds like she thinks I may be right."

"Just because she's hurting, B. Anyway, we kinda started making out."

Brittany pursed her lips. She hardly needed a reminder of that display. It was etched into her head and the reason why she'd only managed to get three hours of very light sleep.

"At first, I was just trying to get her to shut up, but then I just let myself miss her."

"That's healthy," Brittany muttered, leaning against the fountain and crossing her arms.

Rachel shot her a glare. "I don't expect you to know what it feels like to physically ache for someone because you miss them so much and want to be near them."

Oh, bestie, how surprised you'd be if I told you the truth.

Instead, she shrugged.

"Anyway, so we went to lunch today and just talked about everything."

"Do you want to get back together with her?" Brittany asked curiously. She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle an affirmative answer.

"No," Rachel responded and the blonde breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, definitely not now. As much as we miss each other and still have feelings for each other, I can't trust her. I'm still hurt about what she did and I can't just let that go so quickly. I have too much self-respect for that."

At least one of you do. Or one of us.

"Well, I just hope you know what you're doing. How do you know Santana's willing to be just a friend to you?"

"Because I know her. And she still wants me just as much as I want her. We're too intertwined in each other's lives, even though we're not together, to try and just avoid each other. It's way too tiring and I figured that it wouldn't hurt to have another genuine friend other than you."

Brittany arched an eyebrow. "But you've slept together."

"I'm well aware of that, Britt. Hence the friendship first."

"But how the fuck are you going to be friends with someone you've had sex with?"

"Not all of us are as cold-hearted and callous as you, Britt," Rachel quipped, spinning on her toe as they bell rang.

"Whatever," the Head Cheerio muttered. As long as she didn't have to deal with Santana longer than necessary, she'd be fine. No contact at all would be preferable, but that was hardly a probability.

"Oh, and lay off Santana, Britt. I mean it. She's back in Glee for Sectionals, but you'd better not say anything else."

"Or what?" Brittany sneered.

Rachel smirked. "You really wanna find out?"

Brittany considered her options. Rachel probably did have a lot of dirt on her, more than she probably realised. "So I have to play nice with Lupus even though you're not together? How is that fucking fair?"

"Well, we're doing this new thing where we're being genuine to people who are nice to us. Santana hasn't done anything to you-"

"You're fucking kidding me, right?"

"She hasn't done anything that you didn't initiate, B. Don't play the fucking victim. You're just as responsible for everything that's happened between the two of you. Probably even more so."

"Jesus, I don't fucking believe this!" Brittany snapped. "You may as well have a choke chain fitted because this is exactly the same thing that happened when you decided to shack up with that-"

"Be very careful, Britt," Rachel cut in with a warning tone. "You're my best friend. I love you and I'll always have your back, but I care about Santana too and I need her in my life. If I ever had to make a choice, the way you're acting right now makes it very easy to choose her. So think about what you want before you let that toxic mouth of yours run away with you. Ok?"

Brittany could only watch as Rachel walked away, the brunette's words ringing in her ears.

Think about what you want.

She hated that the only thing that came into her head was a picture of long dark hair, dark eyes and plump lips.

Sectionals practice was torture. Not only did she have to pretend that she was some happy-go-lucky cheerleader for two hours while she, Santana, Rachel and Quinn perfected their song, but then had to instruct the entire club in the choreography for their second and third numbers. Finn didn't prove to be a distraction at all. All Brittany could hear was Santana giggling with Quinn and Rachel.

If they hadn't latched onto the choreography so damn quickly, she could at least yell at them, but she had no reason to and Rachel kept sending her knowing looks so she had to be on her best fucking behaviour.

When Ms. S finally let them go, Brittany headed back to the field. She needed to run. She didn't want to go home and she didn't want to see anyone else. She changed into a pair of shorts and tank top – Coach Em had long left the school so she wouldn't get into shit for not being in uniform. She turned her music on loudly and tightened her laces. She needed to get out of her head. Running always helped clear her mind. And she definitely needed to clear her mind.

Only of one person in particular.

Brittany frowned at the stupid, persistent voice in her head that seemed to thrive on taking every available opportunity to remind her that she couldn't stop thinking about Santana and that whatever scratch she'd itched last Friday had simply returned with a vengeance. A big vengeance.

And that scared the shit out of Brittany. Because if she was thinking about doing those things with Santana again, that would mean that she may not be as straight as she thought…

"Stop it," she said out loud. "Just stop it. Forget about everything. Forget about her. You can't...You can't think about her like that. Or in any way."

Brittany nodded as she said the words, as though the action would convince her more of what she said.

Just run. Run to get her out of your head. You can't think about her anymore. You can't. Not now. Not ever again.

An hour and a half later, Brittany's breathing was laboured and her leg muscles were burning with exertion, but she still kept going because every time she closed her eyes, Santana popped up.

Why can't I get her out of my head?

Brittany felt like she was going to cry. She hated feeling helpless about something that she should have control over. After another three laps, she collapsed next to the bleachers and lay down on the grass, letting the lyrics of whatever song was playing just wash over her. It was a song that Rachel had been singing a few weeks back to the point where she'd eventually snapped at her to shut up.

I'm so addicted to
All the things you do
When you're going down on me
In between the sheets
Or the sound you make
With every breath you take
It's unlike anything
When you're loving me

Brittany sat up abruptly and pulled the ear pieces out. She vaguely remembered Rachel actually singing that song at some point. Had it been at a party? Or Glee? No, definitely not. Ms. S would have a heart attack with those lyrics.

Bet you'd like to feel Santana between the sheets.

"Shut up!" Brittany cried in despair, covering her ears with her hands. She couldn't think of Santana like that. She couldn't and she wouldn't.

"Is that you, Mr. Joe?"

Brittany froze and looked around frantically. The last thing she needed was someone overhearing her mental breakdown. She couldn't see anyone so she got up and walked around to the back of the bleachers. Afroboy was resting across the tatty couch and blowing smoke rings from something that definitely was not a cigarette.

"Lady Cheerio!" Afroboy said with a crooked grin. "I bid thee a good afternoon."

Brittany rolled her eyes. Now she remembered why she never ventured this far from the school.

"You want some?" Afroboy offered, holding the joint out to her.

She hesitated. She wasn't a stranger to smoking at all, but if she was ever caught, the shit would hit the fan. But it was almost six o'clock. The teachers were pretty much all gone and they probably wouldn't venture this far from the parking lot.

Fuck it. It's not like much else can go wrong in my life.

Brittany stepped towards the couch and took the blunt from Afroboy's fingers. She drew in big, holding the smoke in for as long as she could. She could taste the weed as she exhaled slowly and nodded her head in approval.

"This is some good Mary Jane, Afroboy."

"Only the best for Lady Cheerio."

Brittany rolled her eyes and flopped onto the couch next to him. They finished the blunt and Afroboy pulled another one out, but Brittany declined. She was pleasantly buzzing, but she did need to drive home.

"Who's got your head in a Celtic knot?"

"A what now?"

"Super complex knot."

"Riiiiiight." Brittany looked down at her hands. "Do you have a girlfriend, Afroboy?"

"Nope."

"Boyfriend?"

"Nope."

"Do you prefer either?"

"I like bugs," Afroboy declared.

Brittany pulled a face. "Are you a closeted creepy bug boy?"

"I don't like closets. They're stuffy."

"So you have come parading out?"

"I like parades!"

"Parades are cool," Brittany conceded.

"Do you like closets?" Afroboy asked suddenly.

She froze, suddenly confronted with a startling truth. "Um…"

"Oh, my Lady Cheerio has a Lady Cheerio crush!"

"Shut up. I don't. We're in high school. We don't get damn crushes."

"Who is she?"

Brittany shrugged, focusing on her hands. "Just a girl."

What? Mayday! Mayday!

"You like her?"

Do I?

Could that be why she couldn't stop think about her? Why she simultaneously wanted to run in the other direction when she saw her, but also hold her close and never let her go?

Holy crap!

"Do you like butterflies?"

Brittany blinked. "We're back to bugs?"

"My favourite butterflies are the ones that live in your stomach."

"Ew." She wrinkled her nose.

"When you see that special someone and you can't help but let the butterflies fly free cos they're just as happy to see that person as you are."

Brittany found her throat suddenly dry. It was like Afroboy was reaching into her brain and pulling out her thoughts.

Crap!

What if he really was doing that? What if he found out about her and Santana, about what they'd done? About how they'd touched and moved and fitted…

Brittany felt a goofy grin cross her face as she remembered the brief moments she'd had with Santana and how amazing she'd made her feel with a kiss and when she brought her higher than anything or anyone had before.

"You're thinking about her," Afroboy said determinedly. "And you like her. Lady Cheerio has a girlfriend!" he started to sing.

"Shut the fuck up, Afroboy!" she hissed, swatting his arm, glancing around.

"Oh."

"What, oh? What are you thinking, huh? Cos let me tell you right now, you'll so far off that you're in the fucking ocean."

"Where?" Afroboy asked excitedly, looking around.

Brittany sighed and rolled her eyes. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing that he was so out of it – he would probably brush off anything she said as a joke and never mention it again."

"Hey, what else do you get?" she asked quietly.

He just stared at her.

"You know, with the butterflies. When you see her…whomever."

"Oh! Well, the best part was when she didn't even know that I was looking. She knew who I was, but never knew how much I actually liked her."

Liked her. Like her. Do I like her?

"I used to make sure that I'd get to our classes early so that I could watch her walk in. She's so beautiful. And she doesn't even know how beautiful she is."

"Damn, Afroboy. You're crushing hard. Who's the lucky lady?"

"You'll laugh at me," he mumbled. It was the first time she'd seen any form of self-consciousness.

"I totally promise I won't," Brittany replied solemnly, holding up four fingers. "Scout's honour."

"Silly Lady Cheerio! Scout's honour is two fingers."

"Really? I could've sworn it was four."

"Definitely two," Afroboy said with certainty.

"Don't hide out on my now. You were gonna tell me who your mystery woman is."

"I'll tell you mine of you tell me yours," he challenged.

The smile on her face dropped immediately and she shook her head violently. "No, no, no, no, no. No one will ever know. No one will ever know. They can't. I'd…she'd…they'd…" She started breathing really quickly.

He can't know! No one can! Ever! Shit, maybe I should kill him because he already knows that it's a girl.

"Hey, Afroboy, you know that this is part of the mission, right? Which means no blabbing. Especially to the gleeks."

"Yeah, totally, Lady Cheerio." He saluted clumsily. "You can count on me."

Brittany glanced up at the sky. "I should go. It's getting late."

"I like the night. And the day. And the morning and the evening and all the hours in between."

"Yeah, hours are cool," Brittany mused.

"Watching from a distance is fun for a while, but it doesn't last forever. Not when the like becomes something more."

"More?" she squeaked. "M-m-more like what?"

Afroboy grinned. "Love, of course."

Oh, Jesus, no.

"Not me. I don't do that love shit. It's for losers."

"Losers? Love makes the world go round." He laughed suddenly. "Santana used to say that all the time when we were kids."

"S-Santana said that?"

He nodded. "She's a huge romantic. That's one thing that will never change. I know she's still looking for her great love."

Brittany swallowed the razor blades imbedded in cotton wool that had lodged itself inside her throat. "W-what if she's found it? Her great love?"

Afroboy looked thoughtful. "You mean Cheerio Berry-o?"

Does he have nicknames for everyone?

"Yeah," she said in almost a whisper, hating how fearful she was of what he thought the answer might be.

"Santana likes her, but she doesn't love her. Love is something that you'll know as soon as it hits you. When you look at that person and their eyes meet yours and boom."

"Boom?"

"Boom."

"What the fuck is boom? What does that mean?"

"It means whatever it needs to mean. Some people have sparkly banners, some people have music playing, some people have full fanfares, some people don't have anything. They just experience each other."

Brittany frowned. That sounded absolutely ridiculous, which only further supported her idea that love was a farce. Nobody could give her a straight answer when she asked them.

Time for some experimenting. I wanna test this theory of Afroboy's and see if I do like Santana.

She ignored the annoying voice that teasingly reminded her that there was no theory and that she just wanted an excuse to stare at Santana. She blinked suddenly out of her reverie and pushed herself off the couch.

"Thanks for the smoke, Afroboy. But remember, this never happened."

Afroboy grinned and waved as Brittany jogged away from the bleachers and back to the locker room for a warm shower.

Blaine waited until he was sure that Brittany was long gone before pulling out his phone. It rang twice before someone picked up.

"Hey, sexy. You'll never guess what I just found out about one Brittany Pierce."

A/N: Hmmmm, so Blaine isn't what he seems to be… I already know who's on the other end of the phone :) I'm definitely gonna have some fun with that character.

And FYI, I do know that Scout's Honour is three fingers. I was just messing around with Britt and Blaine.

So this chapter is a little on the short side because the next two chapters are a double whammy: Sectionals! SOOOO much is gonna happen :D

I really hope that it won't be this long before I update again. Trying to juggle way too much, but I just gotta find my flow and I'll be good :)

Would love to hear your thoughts; good bad and ugly :)

Onward and up!

-H