Santana hates her stupid power. It's a thought she's had often, but it bore fucking repeating. She hadn't often thought about how much she touched people, but having to dodge her father's pats on the shoulders and her mother's kisses is some fifth level of hell. Santana was Spanish, easy physical affection was a part of her culture. It was a way she felt loved and accepted by her parents even if she wasn't comfortable coming out to them yet. And that wasn't even taking into account how often she touched her friends. Brittany especially, Santana missed their Lady kisses so much she could cry, and it had only been about a week.

Waiting for the old woman who was their new councilor gave her too much time to think. She's pretty sure she should be more freaked out about the whole murder thing, but Santana is a practical soul. If it comes between her life and some other bastard she will choose herself every time. The same decision is easy to make on her friend's behalf, even Kurt has grown on her after he'd saved her life. He'd even washed the blood out of her clothes. Kurt's just so useful. Santana is sure it makes her more of a bitch than usual to think so, but it's true.

It had been her idea to have him hotwire Brittany's neighbor's car after the bastard had asked her and Britt for a threeway. The creep deserved having his prized possession taken, really. But a joyride had been all Santana could think of on short notice. Then she'd told Kurt to pick up Puck because the loser had become really depressing after the whole Beth thing. It had been his fault for not using a condom but she wouldn't wish that sort of pain on anyone.

It had been a really good time at the mall actually. If the asshole neighbor hadn't reported them it would have been a perfect day. Kurt drove and kept Brittany entertained while she'd tried to cheer Puck up. His baby face was probably why none of them had to sit in actual Jail while they got processed too. He really was so useful, even now, he was the only one she could properly touch. Plus his skin even felt amazing in the heat of summer. The stupid shrew that had taken over their councilor position kept finding them walls to paint in direct sunlight. Santana shamelessly took advantage of Kurt's cooler skin and ability to make ice. Even if he kept whining about her molesting him all the time. She'd even gotten Brittany to do it, and she'd caught Puck eying him thoughtfully the day before. She was sure it was just a matter of time before he gave it a shot. It was going to be hilarious.

Blaine snorted, drawing her attention and owning up to the fact that he had been listening in. She'd thought about cursing him out when he slipped up and reacted to their thoughts, but if anyone understood not being able to control their power it was Santana. Kurt had made vague noises about helping each other practice, but he and Britt didn't seem to need any real type of assistance. As for Blaine and herself...they both just wished they could turn it off. Puck had no idea how the hell he turned back time and that was as funny as it was sad because he had, hands down, the coolest power. He could have literally gone back in time and stopped them all from getting the stupid powers in the first place.

Out of everyone though, Blaine might be the only one who really got it. How much it sucked to have her power just completely take over her life. So Santana was kind and didn't make him regret his hobbitish existence every time she opened her mouth. She didn't know much about the guy, he was recently prep school, from what little they had gotten out of him. But he didn't want to give them any details about the fight that had landed him the community service gig. She was trying to fight her instincts to snoop. Especially since he'd kept it to himself that every time she claimed to be overheated and in need of Kurt's snow bank impression she'd really just wanted a hug. That deserved some discretion on her part.

"Have you guys noticed what's up with the chicks with long skirts?" Pucked asked into their dazed early morning silence. The shrew had wanted them to come in at six like the hell bitch she was, and it was far, far too early.

"I did wonder about that." Blaine hummed, "I've seen a lot of guys in jumpers too which is super weird."

"None of that is even in style." Kurt mourned, his priorities being what they were.

Santana scoffed, "Yeah. Because Westerville is such a stylish mecha."

"It's too warm for long skirts," Britt added, drawing odd looks from the guys. She really hated how few people realized that Britt wasn't an idiot. Yeah, she was too trusting and outright naive, like a kid that never really stopped believing in Santa and the Tooth Fairy. But Britt got to live in a world where people were way better than they actually were, so she definitely had one up on most of humanity as far as Santana was concerned.

"Is it an occasion at least?" Kurt wondered aloud, "Fashion faux pas are more excusable when it's for like a parade or something."

Blaine shook his head, "Nope. I'm a native and the closest thing we've got this month is the farmers market, but that's no excuse to dress up like actual farmers. Especially not for people our age."

Puck crossed his arms, "Well that's weird. No one wearing a jumper is gonna get any play, and summer is like prime time play time if you know what I mean."

"Shh!" Blaine hissed, "We've got incoming."

True to Blaine's warning the old hag opened the door. She always had this sour milk expression on her face that made Sanatana want to punch her in the face.

"What a miracle," The shrew mocked, "You've all managed to follow direction and show up on time. You've got quite the treat today. You'll be helping set up for a new church service that targets troubled youth like yourselves. Then you'll stay for service, the young lady in charge argued it should count for your hours. She's far too kind, now let's go."

If anyone deserved a kick in the crotch it was definitely this crotchety crusty old dusty clam. Sadly Santana wasn't willing to incur more community service hours by sharing the sentiment, even if she believed it would be a true community service. Blaine made a wheezing noise that was clearly an attempt not to laugh. Santana rolled her eyes at him, it wasn't her fault he was listening.

Blaine pouted at her like an actual toddler. She smirked at him and pointedly thought he was about as tall as one anyway. The betrayed look he sent her almost had her cracking a smile.

Her amusement was quick to fade at the sight of the church girl who was supposed to be in charge of the gig. She was like virtuous church Quinn before Beth and Berry's wardrobe had a baby. Like hell, Santana was not going to be able to keep her scathing commentary to herself in the face of that. No one had that much self-control. The dismayed whimper Kurt let out at the sight of the long floral fugly skirt said as much.

"Bathroom!" Santana exclaimed, saving herself. She'd always been quick on her feet, and she was so thankful for that now. She'd gone to rescue her iPod and let down her hair. As long as no one noticed the earbuds she wouldn't even have to hear a word the farm wife looking bibble thumper said. It was best for everyone involved if Santana didn't have to put up with her nonsense.

By the time she slipped back into the room, she could jump straight into setting out the chairs. Three hours later Santana was growing bored with her playlist but was nowhere near desperate enough to risk being caught with her iPod. She was sure the shrew would make her regret it. She slumped with relief when everyone started getting up, and followed Britt into the girl's bathroom gratefully, finally pulling out her noise canceling headphones.

"Man that was torture," She complained, pulling down the zipper of the ugly orange jumpsuit they always made them wear.

"San, all of my clothes are sinful! What should I do?" Britt asked, looking down sadly at her short pink skirt and form-fitting top. Britt wore the cheerleader aesthetic even when her uniform wasn't an option.

Santana sighed, "Ugh please don't tell me you were listening to that nut-job. Trust me Britt the world is a better place when girls can wear short skirts, and you looked super cute in that top. You look great, who cares what she thinks?"

"God cares." Britt intoned gravely, "I don't wanna make God sad and go to hell Sanny. I already have to repent for all the pre-marital sex...What's pre-marital sex?"

Santana wished she'd thought to get Brittany a pair of headphones as well. Now she had to get all of these crazy ideas out of her best friends head, "It's having sex before you get married, and that's stupid! Sex is fun, you should be able to have it whenever you want. You really don't have to listen to her Britt."

"Yes, we do!" Britt insisted, "Oh my God! San, we both have to repent so much. We've had so much sex, even with each other, do you think that counts too?"

Hell yes, it did. It was literally the best sex of Santana's life so far. She really had to help Britt let this stupid idea go. Someday, when she figured out a way around her stupid rapey power Santana wanted sex with Britt to be very much on the table. It usually wasn't this hard to sway her, Britt tended to take her word pretty much over anyone, even coach Sylvester. But somehow Britt seemed completely convinced by whatever the bible junkie with the actual opposite of a fashion sense had said.

She sighed, "Look Britt, I promise God doesn't care if you have sex before marriage or wear short skirts and v-necks. He's too busy making life and shit, ok? When he made people he didn't even make us wear clothes."

Then Brittany grabbed her shoulders over her orange vest, her grip too tight with unnatural strength. She'd never seen Brittany like this, it almost frightened Santana, but she couldn't quite picture a world where she was frightened of Britt, even if her grip was sure to leave bruises.

"Britt? Stop it, it hurts!"

"It matters San." Britt said, completely ignoring her words, intently staring into her eyes, "Sarah said so and she wants us to go to heaven. Even though we're all sinners and heretics."

"Britt let me go!" Santana commanded. This wasn't right, Britt would never ignore her like this, would never hurt her.

"You have to see how much it matters San-" Brittany insisted, but Santana had had enough and reached out a hand to touch Brittany's face. The change was as fast as it always was. Britt released her and surged forward, kissing her desperately, like she needed Santana's spit to survive.

For a moment all Santana wanted in the world was to keep kissing Britt. To forget the manic certainty she'd seen in her eyes and relive some of her best memories with Britt's gorgeous body. But selfish monster that she was, Santana wasn't quite that fucked up, and she was ninety percent sure Britt's insanity had a very direct source. It would have been far too convenient if they were magically the only people to get powers after all.

So Santana cherished the feeling of Britt dragging her lips across her neck for one more blissful moment before wretching herself back.

"San?" Britt muttered confused.

"You still care that your skirt is short?" Santana asked.

Brittany cocked her head in thought, "No? It's just like my Cheerios skirt."

Santana laughed. It was a bitter sound, looked like her stupid power had some use after all. It was time to see how brainwashed their friends got.