A/N: Sorry for the wait! Thank you so much to the people who continuously comment, review, send me messages – if I don't express it enough, you guys keep me motivated :) So thank you for that :)
Also, to those who commented on how I'm showcasing Brittany's struggle – THANK YOU. It means a lot that you've noticed it.
Continuing with Sectionals…
Heads up: Lady lovin' (non-Brittana) - Sorry!
Onwards and up
-H
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee :(
CHAPTER 25
Santana jerked awake and her heart started pounding. The remnants of whatever dream she'd been jolted out of faded very quickly and she squeezed her eyes shut at the vanishing memory of blonde hair.
She felt a weight across her stomach and glanced down, almost fearful of seeing a pale arm. She breathed a sigh of relief when the skin tone was slightly more tanned. Rachel's hand was against her stomach underneath her shirt and she knew that the cheerleader was still fast asleep. She rested her head on her pillow and let her body relax. She could feel Rachel's even breaths against her neck and it made her smile a bit. This was where she wanted to be. She wanted to be cuddling with Rachel and not…not…
Not making out with Brittany. Again.
Santana swallowed. She knew that it had been a mistake. Another one. She hadn't heard Brittany coming back to the room so she wasn't even sure if she had come back. Why couldn't she control her inexplicable desire for Brittany? Why couldn't Brittany? Whatever was between them was something pretty fucking powerful and Santana had no idea what to do about it. She didn't even like Brittany. She didn't. She thought she was selfish, arrogant and a total bitch. But when it was just them, when she got to see the real Brittany that no one else saw, probably not even Rachel, she couldn't help but be pulled towards her both physically and emotionally.
Why, though?
Why Brittany? Why now? Why did what she what she felt with Rachel pale in comparison to the moments she'd had with Brittany? She wanted Rachel. She didn't want Brittany.
She didn't…
The bathroom door opened and she automatically closed her eyes, not wanting to deal with her blonde tormentor. Ever, if she could swing it. She doubted the probability of that happening, though. She could hear Brittany rummaging around by her bed. She felt like it was still really early and hopes that Brittany was planning on heading out so that they could avoid any guaranteed awkwardness while Quinn and Rachel will still in their candy-induced comas.
Also, she'd come out of the bathroom. The possibility of her being naked almost made Santana's eyes jump open, but she squeezed them tightly closed, subtly turning her head into her pillow. The movement caused Rachel to stir slightly. Her hand moved from under Santana's shirt and found the Latina's arm, tugging it gently. She smiled. Rachel had always denied doing this, but Santana kind of loved it. She acquiesced and turned around, Rachel doing the same. Santana draped her arm over Rachel waist and snuggled into her, hiding her face in the cheerleader's thick hair. At least Brittany couldn't see that she was awake.
The door closing suddenly caused Rachel to jump awake and Santana could hear Quinn groan from the mattress next to her.
"Wassat?" Rachel mumbled, grabbing Santana's hand and linking their fingers.
"I think Brittany left," she mumbled back.
"Time?"
"Early. I set my alarm. Go back to sleep, Rach."
"K." She promptly relaxed in Santana's embrace and her breathing evened out quickly.
Santana lay there contentedly. This was where she was meant to be. Rachel cared about her, cared about how she felt. Even though she'd fucked up, she wanted to try and make things better with them. She wanted to try.
Unlike Brittany, who apparently only needed Santana when she was horny.
Bullshit. You know that isn't true.
Santana bit her lip. She needed it to be true. The alternative was scary as shit. If Brittany had developed feelings for her, then she had a huge fucking disaster on her hands.
Brittany returned to the room an hour after leaving. She'd made a split decision after seeing Santana spooning Rachel to get out. Do something. That something had turned into a run. A really long and tiring run. Her lack of sleep was catching up to her. It didn't matter. They had the competition in a few hours and they would kill it, win and head back to Lima where she could safely hide away in her room until Monday.
All she had to do for the next few hours was remember that Santana was the enemy and that she was Head Bitch. She needed to impose that notion upon the Latina once more. It was the only way she'd survive.
She opened her hotel room door and the first thing she saw was Santana, about to head out. She kept her cool and just breezed past her, heading for the bathroom. She slammed the door a little harder than she meant to, but perhaps she had meant to…
I can't do this. How am I supposed to pretend that I hate her when all I want to do is kiss her again? And…other things…
It didn't matter. Her feelings didn't matter. They couldn't matter. She had to ignore the fact that she could feel when Santana walked into the room because her skin started to prickle with anticipation. She had to ignore how her stomach erupted into a rabble of butterflies every time she saw those gorgeous brown eyes – the brown eyes she remembered staring at her with passion when she'd fucked her into oblivion. She had to forget how no one had ever made her feel so incredibly sated and exhausted and thoroughly pleased. And how no one else would probably ever could. She had to forget how it felt to kiss her, how it felt to feel her. She had to forget how much she wanted Santana. She had to forget everything.
After a quick shower, she exited the bathroom and changed into a pair of sweats and tank top. She didn't care that she'd dropped her towel and was naked before pulling on her underwear. She had to channel the Brittany that everyone knew, the Brittany that everyone knew and feared. The Brittany that Santana hated.
She had to be the selfish Brittany that she knew would drive Santana away.
After the final rehearsal, Tina helped everyone with their costumes. The young heiress was actually pretty damn handy with a pair of scissors, some thread, fabric and a sewing machine. It helped that her father was a multi-millionaire designer.
"You look ravishing, darling," Quinn said in a faux-posh accent, curtsying to Santana. They were waiting in the green room, ready to go one when they were called.
The Latina and returned the gesture. "And you, Miss Fabray are truly a vision in white."
"I feel weird," Rachel muttered, swishing the skirt of her white dress.
"Is it because you're wearing white?" Santana teased.
Rachel looked up and smirked. "Well, if that were the case, I'm not sure why you're so comfortable wearing it. We both know that you're far from innocent."
Santana grinned. It felt like things were getting better by the hour between her and Rachel.
"Ok, I'm gonna go over here because this sexual tension is just nauseating," Quinn said, disappearing.
Rachel laughed and Santana just smiled. She stepped closer to the cheerleader. "So, I know that you invited Quinn and I to dinner when we get back home, but I was thinking…"
"Yeah?" Rachel asked quietly, a small smile playing on her lips.
"I was wondering what you'd say if I asked you to dinner. Just you. And just me."
"You mean like a date?" The smaller girl's smile grew.
Santana bit her lip and nodded.
Rachel stepped closer and took her hands. "I think that I would agree to that."
"Really?"
"As long as we don't go to Breadstix."
Santana rolled her eyes and smirked. "Deal."
"Great." Rachel stood her tiptoes and kissed Santana's cheek. "Text me."
She twirled away to where Brittany was standing and Santana couldn't help but do a little victory jiggle.
"I take it things are going well?" Quinn asked, linking their arms.
"We have a date!" Santana said excitedly.
Quinn grinned. "That's awesome, San. I'm really happy for you guys."
"Yeah. I'm so not fucking things up this time."
"I know you won't." Quinn pulled her in for a hug and Santana's eyes lifted to meet Brittany's. She was nodding at what Rachel was saying and her eyes were narrowed in a glare. Santana frowned. Was she pissed because she'd run away after kissing her the previous night? That would explain her cold demeanour that entire morning. She'd barely acknowledged Santana except to tell her to stop lazing about and 'fucking dance like she wants to win'.
"Five minutes, New Directions!"
Ms. S gathered us together and we stood in a circle, holding hands. Santana was between Rachel and Quinn and Brittany was on the other side of Rachel.
"Guys and girls, no matter what happens, I'm so proud of each of you. You've worked hard to get here and I have no doubt that you will give everything you have on that stage. Good luck."
And then she was gone.
"Well, I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I'm pretty set on winning this thing," Santana said and she got a small hum of agreement from the circle. "We know our words and our steps. Let's work together and give that crowd a fucking show they won't forget. It's been too long since we've had some new silverware in our trophy cabinet."
She stuck her hand in and everybody followed suit.
"Aaaaamazing!"
"Holy shit! That was awesome!" Rachel said with a big grin on her face, collapsing into her seat.
"Pretty addictive, huh?" Santana agreed, sitting down next to her.
"Totally." She leaned her head on Santana's shoulder. "I mean, I knew we'd win, especially after the standing ovation we got for Mad World, but it was still like will we or won't we?"
Santana chuckled. "Yeah, it sucked last year when we knew that we weren't going to win. Just standing there waiting for the inevitable."
"What happened?" Rachel murmured.
"One of our members, Suzy Pepper, threw up on stage. She was a freshman and a total nervous wreck. She had a good singing voice, though. She just couldn't handle it."
Rachel was quiet.
"What?" Santana pressed.
"Part of our initiation into the Cheerios last year was picking a freshman and torturing them for the first semester. We, uh, got bonus points or whatever of we got them to transfer."
"And you got Suzy Pepper?" Santana wasn't sure what to make of the new information.
"Uh, no. Britt did. She, uh, was pretty relentless."
"Hmmm." Santana set her jaw. She knew Brittany was a bully, but her reasoning, once again, brought so many questions about the Head Cheerio to Santana's mind. Why was she so determined to be this person that Santana knew she wasn't. Or was the person that Santana saw the fake one? She struggled to convince herself of that. Whatever Brittany and she experienced together was real. It was scarily more real than anything she'd ever experienced.
You can't think like that anymore. You have a date with Rachel. You're going to get your girlfriend back.
Santana took a breath and it caused Rachel to lift her head. "Does that make you mad?" she whispered.
She turned and met Rachel's eyes. "Before, it would have. I can't change what's in the past. I'd love to be able to tell Brittany that she should find out where Suzy Pepper transferred to and apologise. What she did wasn't cool, regardless of why she did it. Shit like that scars people. She just doesn't seem to realise that."
"Yeah, I know. It's like turning water into ink with her." She sighed.
"Who did you have to torture?" Santana asked.
"Um, you don't remember?"
Santana arched an eyebrow.
"Um, you."
"Well, not sure how you became second in command because clearly you didn't scare me off," Santana teased.
Rachel chuckled and slapped her arm. "Shut up. You were a hard nut to crack."
"Wanky."
"Hey, that's my word!" Rachel pouted.
"I think it sounds better coming from me."
"Well, a lot of things sound better coming from you."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Hmmm."
"Like what?"
"My name."
Santana's eyes widened and she shifted as her underwear became a little moist. "That's not fair, Rach. Friends aren't supposed to say stuff like that."
"Well, friends aren't supposed to go on dates either. But we are."
"Ok… So what does that mean?"
Rachel shrugged. "Let's not label anything just yet. Overthinking is way overrated. Let's just see what happens."
Santana nodded. "Ok. So, since we're not labelling anything, am I allowed to tell you how sexy you looked on stage today?"
Rachel grinned. "As long as I get to tell you how part of me kinda wished I could've had you in the green room after we won."
The Latina let out a pained whimper and stood up. Rachel grabbed her hand.
"Seriously, Rach. There's no way I can survive sitting next to you when all I want to do is fuck you on this chair right now."
Rachel smirked. "Well, I'm sure the gleeks wouldn't mind a show."
"Yes, we would!" Mercedes chirped from the seat behind them. "You two better keep it in your pants. I don't need to be scarred for life, thank you very much."
Santana groaned and reluctantly sat back down again.
"Can I kiss you?" Rachel whispered.
She didn't wait for a response, just leaned in and captured her cheerleader's waiting lips. It was better than she remembered. She hated herself for thinking about how it still didn't compare to-
"Are you fucking serious?" Brittany snapped. "You couldn't wait until we got back to Lima?"
Rachel broke away from Santana and frowned at her best friend. "What the hell has your panties in a bunch?"
"More like who has yours in a bunch. And I think it's pretty obvious that Santana has them pulled pretty tight."
"Ok, hold on!" Santana said heatedly, spinning around and facing Brittany. "I don't care what the fuck your problem is, but I thought we were past all this."
"Well, maybe it's a little more difficult for some of us to forget the shit that you pulled."
"The shit that I pulled? Are you listening to yourself right now?"
"What the hell is going on?" Quinn said loudly, standing at the front of the bus, her hands on her hips.
"Wonder Barbie decided to bring bitchy back," Santana muttered, her eyes shooting daggers at the blonde Head Cheerio.
"Just wait until we're back in the real world, Lupus. You'll be reminded very quickly of how things work." Brittany moved to the back seat and stretched out across it. Not that anyone would have attempted sitting near her.
"What the hell was that?" Rachel wondered to herself, her frown etched deeply into her forehead. "I thought everything was fine."
"All good things must come to an end," Santana mused quietly. "I think we need to face facts that Brittany has issues and she probably feels like being a bitch is the only way to deal with her problems."
'Don't fucking psycho-analyse me, Lupus!" Brittany yelled from the back. "I can still hear the little cogs in your tiny brain turning."
"Seriously, what the hell happened?" Quinn hissed, taking the seat opposite the aisle.
"We were kissing and she flipped out," Santana whispered, glancing down the aisle and looking at Brittany's torso. It was all she could see of the confusing head cheerleader.
"Staring at me won't make me spontaneously combust either, trust me. I've tried it, but you're unfortunately still breathing."
Rachel wrapped both hands around Santana's waist as the Latina saw red and immediately stood up to give Brittany a piece of her mind.
"Please, don't. You're better than this," Rachel whispered against her neck.
Santana was shaking with anger. She hated that Brittany always elicited such a passionate response from her, no matter if it was rooted in anger or desire. Maybe Brittany's change of heart or whatever was for the best. It would break whatever thing was between them. If all she thought about was fighting Brittany with words, she wouldn't have to think about what her next move was going to be. She wouldn't have to worry about her trying anything with her again. Right?
Doubtful.
Rachel kneeled on her seat. "Announcement! Victory party at my house tonight! Libations shall be provided for everyone's taste and we're going to celebrate kicking Sectionals' ass!"
The bus erupted into enthusiastic applause. She sat down and pulled Santana close to her. "Just forget about Brittany. Her mood swings are completely normal. Tonight you're all mine."
Santana sighed and leaned against Rachel, listening to her chatter for the rest of the ride home.
By the time she arrived at Rachel's house, the party was in full swing. There were a few non-Glee people, but it wasn't anything like Brittany or Artie's parties. Santana kind of preferred it. She headed down to the basement where she knew Rachel would have the bar and karaoke set up. When she'd found out that Rachel's dads were big on karaoke, she'd been surprised. It certainly explained her musical talent, but it was just very odd that a Cheerio would be so into something that the 'top dogs' considered completely lame.
Then again, Santana had found out very quickly that Rachel wasn't as shallow as the rest of the so-called upper classmen.
"Hi!" Rachel squealed, grabbing her hands as she descended the stairs. "I'm really glad you're here."
Santana smiled and kissed her cheek. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."
"You look totally hot," Rachel declared. "I really love your geek chic."
The Latina laughed. She was wearing her standard tight jeans, Chucks and had chosen a green Hulk shirt for the celebratory occasion. She'd also forgone her contacts and had her glasses on. Wearing her contacts the whole days for the competition had dried her eyes out.
"No one could possibly hold a candle to you, Cherry Berry." She stepped back and let her eyes roam appreciatively over Rachel's tight strapless black dress. "And I'm loving those heels."
"Hmmm." Rachel stepped closer and Santana wrapped her arms around her waist. "I'll let you in on a little secret." She moved next to Santana's ear and whispered, "I'm not wearing any underwear."
"Oh, fuck," Santana hissed, her fingers digging into Rachel's dress.
"Later. Maybe. If you're good." The cheerleader sent her a wink and sauntered away.
"So I'm guessing you'll be staying over then?" Quinn chuckled, appearing next to her with a cup.
Santana took it and downed it. "I don't know," she admitted, her eyes still on Rachel. "I mean, I want to. Fuck, I want to. But I don't want to mess things up by moving too fast."
"You think sleeping with your ex that you're almost back together with will ruin that?" Quinn asked curiously.
"I don't know," Santana groaned. "I need another drink."
"Hey, hey, Lopez!' David cheered.
"Who allowed you to play barman?" Santana teased, handing him her empty cup.
"I did," Quinn said. "He showed up drunk so I put him behind here and he's in charge of pouring the drinks."
"She keeps water-gunning me if I sneak a sip." David pouted.
Santana threw her head back and laughed. "Quinnie, you are my hero." She held up her hand for a high five and her best friend met it with a grin.
"So what are you having?" David asked, clapping his meaty hands together.
"Long Island Iced Tea," Santana said immediately.
"Whoa, hitting the hard stuff, are we?"
Santana shrugged. "We're celebrating."
She stood next to the bar with her drink, chatting with Quinn while the latter sporadically squirted water from a concealed water pistol at the unsuspecting bartender. It was highly entertaining. She felt two arms wrap around her waist.
"Come sing with me," Rachel murmured in her ear.
"Be right back," she said to Quinn, allowing Rachel to pull her onto the stage.
Rachel enthusiastically pressed a button and handed a mic to Santana. She grinned. "You think you can handle singing with me, Berry?"
"The question is, Lopez," Rachel replied as the music started up, "Don't you want me, baby?"
Santana's eyes flashed as they effortlessly worked through the song.
Don't, don't you want me?
You know I don't believe it
When you say that you don't need me.
By the time their song had ended, they were staring heavily at each other. Santana was literally itching to grab Rachel and drag her somewhere to do unnameable things to her glorious body.
The applause of the crowd brought her back to reality and she took a deep breath. She handed Rachel the mic back and turned back to finish her much-needed drink. Just as she'd stepped off the stage she found herself pushed against the wall and a feisty Rachel Berry in her arms. She reciprocated the kiss enthusiastically, ignoring the cat calls from the dance floor.
"You'd better be in my bedroom in five minutes, Lopez," Rachel said in a low voice.
Santana swallowed. "Are you sure, Rachel?"
"I'm sure that I've wanted you ever sine I kissed you in the hallway."
The Latina didn't respond, just looked in her eyes, trying to decide if it really was a good idea. Rachel bit her lip and dropped her gaze.
"I want you, Santana. And I'm not making this decision lightly. I have considered the possibilities and repercussions, but at the end of the day, I still want you."
Santana found herself nodding. "Ok." She released Rachel and the cheerleader headed up the stairs, sending Santana a grin and cocked her head before disappearing from view.
"Here." Quinn handed her the rest of her drink. "You sure this is a good idea?"
Santana shrugged and took a big sip. "She said that she knew what the repercussions would be. If Rachel's willing to trust me again, then I'm not going to make her think that I doubt that."
"Ok." She didn't sound like she agreed.
"Don't worry, Quinnie. I'm a big girl. I've learned from my mistakes." A flash of the insanely pleasurable assault she'd received the previous night flickered through her mind and she quickly shook it away. "I'm not going to do anything that stupid again."
Quinn nodded. "Ok. I'll talk to you tomorrow, then."
Santana kissed her best friend's cheek and smiled. "Love you, Quinnie."
"Love you too, San. Be careful," she couldn't help by add as a warning.
"I will," Santana replied genuinely.
She finished her drink and tossed the cup at David with a wink and took the steps two at a time. She reached the front entrance and grinned at Rachel waiting for her at the top of the stairs that led to her bedroom. She climbed them, taking two at a time once again. Rachel jumped into her arms and Santana's arms secured her ass. Their lips fused together as Santana backtracked towards Rachel's room. The cheerleader grunted as Santana pushed her against the wall, tugging her dress down so that she could latch her lips onto her nipples.
"Oh, fuck," Rachel moaned loudly, her hands fisting Santana's hair. "San, you need to get me naked and fucked right now," she growled.
"My pleasure," she replied with a smirk, carrying Rachel into her bedroom and closing the door.
Neither girl saw Brittany standing at the other end of the second floor hallway, staring at the space where they'd been, blinking away the tears that were escaping down her face.
A loud crash brought her out of her drunken slumber. She cracked an eye open, but couldn't see anything due to her hair draped across her face. She tried to lift her right arm to brush it away, but it was pinned down. She frowned and hurriedly wiped her hair away from her eyes with her left hand instead. She instantly grimaced at the light shining through a window directly onto her face.
"Fuck," she moaned. Her voice came out broken and hoarse. Her head felt like it was splitting open.
She glanced down and groaned inwardly. She was in her underwear and had two guys passed out on either side of her.
What the fuck even happened last night?
She knew that she was at Rachel's. She'd had enough drunken sleepovers to recognise her best friend's living room.
Shit, did I have sex in Rachel's living room? So classy.
She tried to swallow, but her throat just felt like dried cotton wool. She managed to fumble over the unconscious body, wrenching her right arm free and fell on the carpeted floor. They were two football guys. She didn't even remember seeing them at the party. Shakily getting to her feet, Brittany stumbled to the ground floor bathroom. She turned on the faucet and splashed some water on her face. She was definitely still drunk. The hangover hadn't even started yet. She groaned at the realisation that early morning Cheerios practice the next day was going to be a bitch to get through. She didn't care about skipping school or Glee, but she had to show face at practice.
First mission. Find clothes.
She stepped over bodies – way more bodies than what there had been at the party when she'd arrived – and headed down to the basement. She managed to find her shorts and boots, but her shirt still eluded her.
Whatever. I'll just grab one of Rachel's.
She stopped by the kitchen and downed two glasses of water and munched a candy bar before heading up the stairs to Rachel's room. The door was ajar and she didn't think twice about pushing it open. She froze at the sight she was met with.
Rachel was passed out on her stomach, the covers barely covering her ass. Santana was asleep, her head resting on Rachel's back. The sheet also barely covered her nakedness. Brittany blinked rapidly and saw a pair of handcuffs attached to Santana's wrist as her hand rested on Rachel's ass.
Brittany staggered back, an unbelievable pain exploding in her chest. She couldn't breathe and felt like she was going to have a heart attack or something. She clutched the bannister and fell to the ground, shaking her head to try and stop the impending tears coming. She remembered now. She remembered seeing them together. She remembered downing countless shots. She remembered calling Finn and telling him to bring the entire team over. She remembered dancing and drinking and then nothing.
Most importantly, she remembered forgetting about what she'd seen. Now it was all she could think about. Seeing every available inch of Santana's smooth skin. It was torture knowing how soft that skin was. How it felt underneath her fingertips.
"No!" she choked out, pushing herself away from the bannister and half-crawling, half-sliding to the staircase. She forced herself up and stumbled down the steps, heading back down to the basement. She found a bottle of tequila with about a quarter left and downed it. Her insides burned but she didn't stop. All too soon, the bottle was finished.
"No!" Brittany cried, throwing the bottle onto the carpeted floor. "I need to forget," she mumbled. She rummaged behind the bar and came up with an almost full bottle of vodka. "Finally." She screwed the cap off and slid to the ground, letting the clear liquid slip down her throat. It still burned, but after finishing half the bottle, Brittany let the haziness overwhelm her and succumbed to the darkness.
Quinn leaned against the stairs and frowned as she watched Brittany slip into unconsciousness. She'd followed her from upstairs. She'd seen her back away from Rachel's room like she'd seen a ghost. Even more confusing, she'd seen Brittany crying and clutching her chest. And she'd heard what Brittany had muttered.
I need to forget.
Quinn didn't often jump to conclusions, but it was very clear to her that Santana meant a lot more to Brittany than she was letting on and that whatever had happened between them was way bigger than Santana had let on.
If she even knew.
She figured that no one knew about Brittany's feelings. She also wagered that Brittany herself was probably fighting them, hence the drinking herself into oblivion. The blonde bit her lip as she watched the Head Cheerio, the supposed top bitch of McKinley and wondered if it was all just an act. She wondered if Brittany's feelings for Santana were what was making her act out so much. Maybe she was scared.
That didn't make sense, though. Her best friend was gay. And they'd been friends for as long as her and Santana. And, hello, she'd slept with Santana. Part of her had to acknowledge the feelings.
Then again, Brittany was kind of a slut. The previous night had only fuelled that fire even more. She remembered seeing her in the living room with two guys. She'd turned around pretty quickly, but Brittany had seemed totally out of it, like she wasn't even there.
Was Brittany running away from something? Her feelings? Her responsibilities as Head Cheerio? It sure seemed that way. And she was using alcohol and sex as tools to help her run away.
Quinn sighed and picked up Brittany's shirt from underneath the sofa. She remembered seeing her throw it there during a very public striptease. She knelt in front of the apparent head of the school and searched her slumbering face. Her make-up was smudged and there were tear tracks down her cheeks. She sighed. Part of her wanted so desperately to walk away and leave her to deal with her own mess.
But the other part of her sympathised. Brittany seemed to be confused and she was just lashing out in the only way she knew how to try and deny whatever she was feeling. Quinn knew about that, to an extent. She also knew about the pressures of being the perfect daughter. After her miscarriage, her mother had really tightened the reins on her extra-curricular activities. She had a curfew of eight pm and her father had installed a GPS tracker in her car so that she knew where she was at all times. Quinn felt like a prisoner in her own house.
Santana didn't know any of it because Quinn didn't want to tell her. Her best friend would just get super protective of her and either try to convince Quinn to live with her or quit everything. Which she didn't want to do, not really. She enjoyed dancing and drama classes. She just didn't enjoy how determined her mother was that she make a career out of it.
Brittany slumped over in front of her and Quinn quickly caught the girl. She pried the half-empty bottle out of her hands and put it back on the bar. She rested Brittany uncomfortably on her side and stood up, heading over to the sofa and clearing it of empty cups and a few articles of clothing. She headed back to Brittany and, after a lot of effort, managed to drag the unconscious cheerleader onto the couch. There was a blanket draped over the back that she used to cover her.
"The world is a scary place," she murmured, looking at Brittany's sleeping face. "We have to deal with a lot of things that we don't think we can handle. If this year has taught me anything so far, it's that anything is possible if you believe that you can deal with the consequences. It's not actually about what anyone else thinks of you. It's all about whether, at the end of the day, you can live with your decisions."
She folded Brittany's shirt up and put it next to her head.
"I want to say that I'm here if you want to talk to someone, but I know that you're scared. You're so scared of…something that you're doing everything you can to run away from it. At some point, you're going to have to stop running, Brittany. You can't run forever."
She stood up and headed up the stairs, but not before she heard a mumbled, "I can try."
Santana twisted her body and stretched as she awoke. Something clinked on her wrist and she peeked through one eye at the handcuffs that were still attached. She smiled and rolled off Rachel, scooting up the bed where she was still passed out. Santana just watched the beautiful girl for a few moments, her eyes wandering from her face down to her barely concealed body and shivered deliciously at the memories of their coital bliss the night before.
She rolled over and bent over the end of the bed to grab her jeans, pulling out her phone and checking the time.
Shit.
She had several missed calls from her mom. She'd never told her that she was staying at Rachel's. After four intense rounds, they'd passed out from exhaustion. Sending her mom a message hadn't exactly been at the forefront of her mind. She quickly typed an apology text, saying that she was ok and she'd stayed at Rachel's.
She saw a message from Quinn that had been sent the previous night close to midnight. Not that she could be certain, but that was around her fourth round with Rachel.
Things are getting a little crazy down here. Brittany invited all the jocks over. The gleeks have gone home. I doubt you two will be gracing us with your presence, so I'm staying low just in case things get bad.
Santana bit her lip guiltily. Neither of them had much love for the jocks and Cheerios. Well, she did absolutely enjoy the company of one particular Cheerio. She glanced at Rachel, who hadn't moved, but the even rise and fall of her back showed that she was just deeply asleep. Santana was pretty sure that Rachel could sleep through anything if she was tired enough.
And she'd definitely tired her out.
You are a gem. Are you still here? I want to help Rachel clean up. When she wakes up, of course.
Quinn replied almost immediately.
Yeah, I'm trying to start on the clean up, but I don't really know where anything is.
Santana sat up, sending her best friend a message saying that she'd be right down. She grabbed her clothes and pulled them on. She grabbed a piece of paper and pen from Rachel's desk and wrote a quick note. She leaned across the bed and gave her two kisses on the cheek.
She raked her fingers through her hair and grabbed a hair tie from Rachel's dresser and tied her hair up in a messy bun. At least it was out of her face. She headed downstairs and pulled a face at the amount of unconscious bodies that littered the space between the living room and kitchen.
"Damn," she murmured, heading into the kitchen.
"Morning," Quinn greeted quietly.
"Hey. You ok?"
Quinn nodded, but Santana could see that there was something on her mind. She started her portion of the clean up by getting rid of the unconscious bodies. The two boys in the living room were naked and Santana could see a few used condoms laying around.
So gross.
A thought entered her mind and she grinned.
"Well, boys, I hope you enjoyed your night of passion. Looks like you tired each other out."
They looked at her through bleary eyes and she smirked. "Two naked boys, alone. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
"Stupid dyke. We were with Brittany," one of them growled, pulling his pants on.
Santana's smile froze on her face. "Well, where is she?"
"Not here, obviously," one of the meatheads muttered.
"I'm not fucking around, asshole. Where is she?"
"She's fine," Quinn said, stepping into the room.
Santana turned around and saw that her best friend had a blank expression on her face. But she had no reason to doubt her, so she sent the douchebags the infamous Lopez glare and they left.
"I know something's churning in your head," Santana said quietly, resting a hand on Quinn's folded arms. "I hope that when you're ready, you'll come and talk to me?"
She just nodded and Santana knew it was the best she was going to get. She continued cleaning the living room and kitchen while Quinn tackled the basement. Rachel came down about two hours later, just as they were finishing up, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and shorts.
"Why'd you clean up?" she asked in surprise.
"Um, because it's polite?" Santana asked, a little worried that those repercussions were about to kick in.
"You guys didn't have to do that," Rachel said, walking up to Santana and kissing her. She immediately relaxed.
"It's fine. We needed to get rid of the stragglers."
"Stragglers?" Rachel chucked and grabbed a banana. "Never pegged the gleeks to be such party animals."
"Um, no it was the football guys."
Rachel frowned, but the realisation crossed her features and she sighed. "Brittany?"
Santana nodded.
"Is she ok?"
The Latina shrugged. "Quinn said she was. I haven't seen her. But then again, I've pretty much been up here, cleaning up after her…antics."
"Oh, God." Rachel pulled a face. "What did she defile?"
"Um, your sofa? And possibly other parts of your living room."
"Ugh. I don't know what her issue is. It seems that she enjoys going even more crazy when you're with me."
Santana turned to the sink and started running some water so that Rachel wouldn't see the sudden guilty look on her face. What if that was the reason? What if Brittany hated her so much that she just drank to forget seeing her?
Or…what if she hates herself?
Santana frowned and poured dishwashing liquid into the warm water. Was that the whole reason behind the mess that was her and Brittany? The Head Cheerio, the supposed most confident person in school was scared? Scared of what?
She swallowed, but couldn't ignore the rogue thought.
Scared of what she feels for you.
Santana and Quinn walked through the hallways of McKinley before homeroom, chatting about possible song choices for Regionals when they saw a hoard of Cheerios heading their way.
"Make way for the royalty," Santana muttered with a smirk.
"I hate how they strut around like everyone should bow down to them," Quinn replied under her breath.
Surprisingly, the Cheerios stopped in front of the two girls.
"Um, can we help you?" Santana asked with a frown.
"Compliments of Brittany," the girl in front said, stepping back.
Before either Santana or Quinn could react, they were covered in ice-cold slushy.
"Captain Pierce advises both of you to remember your places in this school and that things will only get worse if you try to start any shit."
Santana was shaking with rage. She opened her eyes, ignoring the burning sensation and grabbed the retreating girl's ponytail. She yanked it and dragged the screaming girl against the nearest locker.
"Why don't you tell your beloved captain that only a coward sends her minions to do her dirty work."
"Calling me a coward, Lupus?"
Santana whirled around, releasing the whimpering Cheerio and glared at Brittany.
"You know what the definition of insanity is, Wonder Barbie?" she seethed, stepping closer.
"I'm sure you'll enlighten me," Brittany said, sounding bored.
"It's doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. What makes you think that slushing me again is going to make any difference?"
Brittany let out a humourless laugh. "And what makes you think that I expect a different result? The one that has you drenched in ice-cold chunks is pretty satisfying for me."
"Santana?"
She knew that Rachel wouldn't have had anything to do with her and Quinn being slushied, but familiar distrust of the bourgeois filtered back into her subconscience.
"Don't think that you're gonna get a rise out of me anymore, Pierce. I know I'm late in realising this, but you're not worth it. You're not worth anything. Not to me."
She could've sworn that she saw Brittany's steely gaze waver for a moment, but she ignored it and turned to her best friend.
"You ok, Quinn?"
"Yeah. I just can't see anything."
"I got you." Santana helped her up, her own vision burning something fierce. She felt someone helping Quinn on the other side, guiding them towards the locker rooms. She glanced at Rachel. Her jaw was set and her brown eyes were flashing, daring anyone to cross her path. If Santana didn't have slushie creeping down her back, she'd find it very hot.
Santana glanced back and saw Brittany still standing where she was, staring at the lockers. The blonde suddenly shook herself and spun on her heel, walking quickly in the other direction.
A/N: So a lot happened here…the status of Santana and Rachel's relationship will be explained in the next chapter, as well as Brittany's mindset.
I know some of you want Brittana. But I have said that Brittana are only happening in part 2. There's still a lot of shit that they need to deal with before they can even consider being serious. And with the way Britt's behaving, you can't blame Santana's anger.
Hope you enjoyed! :)
Oh, the song that Santana and Rachel sang was Do You Want Me originally done by The Human League. But I'm quite partial to the Glee version :)
Onward and up!
-H
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