AUTHOR'S NOTE: It has literally been a year since I've updated this story. For that I'm sorry. I can't guarantee consistent updates due to the nature of my life right now but I'd be surprised if it takes this long again. Thanks so much for reading, and reviews are always appreciated:)

Santana started. She had accidentally snapped the quill she had been holding in half with a loud cracking noise. One of the boys sitting in front of her jumped and looked back. After telling him to get back to charming the matchbox in front of him before she hexed him, she began mumbling angrily about how much the quill had cost her. She then turned back to Brittany, who was now looking at her with wide questioning eyes.

"Sorry Britt. Keep going."

The blonde quickly pressed on with renewed enthusiasm.

"Then he asked what I was doing tonight, and of course I said I wasn't doing anything! You don't mind do you? And he's so cute Santana. He says really smart things in class too," Brittany mused.

"No of course. That's great!"

"What do you think of him?" asked Brittany suddenly, catching Santana off guard.

She had been expecting to sit and nod, maybe even throw in some excited faces, but Santana hadn't thought she'd have to contribute her own opinion about the moron in the wheelchair taking her best friend on some kind of weird date.

"I really don't know him..."

"Come on!" Brittany giggled.

"He seems... nice."

The words tasted bad coming out of Santana's mouth, but Brittany didn't seem to notice the effect they'd had on her best friend and had gone back to beaming at a boy in glasses sitting up near McGonagall's desk. He turned at that moment and returned her smile a little shakily. Santana sighed and tapped the matchbox in front of her with her wand. It promptly burst into flames.

Santana's feet crunched in the midwinter snow beneath her, every little piece sparkling in the moonlight. She looked up at the sky as she walked, her frozen breath coming up in swirls. She'd come out here to clear her head. After flying around the Quidditch pitch for nearly half an hour though, the only clear thing that seemed to have formed was the ice on her broom handle. Finally she'd touched back down and began to walk back towards the castle, shaking slightly of cold. She just didn't understand why she was feeling this way. Brittany had gone on dates with boys and so had she. She hadn't cared before, so why did it bother her so much now? A quick flash of Brittany sitting in the boy's , Artie's, lap by a fire looking at him adoringly before slowly moving in for a kiss appeared in Santana's mind. She angrily kicked a snowdrift sending it up into her face. She'd kissed boys before, so could Brittany! But what did she even see in the kid anyways? Besides his dumb name and his handicapped sweatered physique he didn't even seem that interesting. What was so great about him? She sat down on the steps outside the castle, trying to get her breathing back to a steady place. Brittany was her best friend. She just didn't want to lose her. That was it. She had looked really beautiful that day when she had come down to dinner before her 'date' with Artie. He was lucky. What am I THINKING? Santana was mad again. She's my best friend! A sneaky voice in the back of her head seemed to say it for her. Best friends don't care this much when the other one meets someone they like, they're supposed to happy for each other. So why wasn't she happy? Accepting that she wasn't going to feel better just sitting here, she slowly cracked open the door to great hall and slipped inside. She had snuck around the castle so many times after dark training for Quidditch her second year that she barely thought twice about it now. Narrowly dodging Mrs. Norris, who had never taken to Santana the way she had Brittany, she found herself facing the slab of grey dungeon wall leading to the Slytherin common room. As she walked down the green lit stairs to the velvet common room she saw the top of Puck's persistent mohawk peeking over one of the armchairs. Puck, like her, had grown up a lot since they'd first met. Last year he had gotten taller, less gangly, gained a little muscle mass even. His face had gotten less boyish and scruff had appeared, if patchy, across his visage. One things that hadn't changed though was the strange friendship he and Santana had established through their years in school. Smiling slightly despite herself she sat down besides him.

"Lopez!" Puck started.

"You have GOT to stop doing that!"

"Pansy," Santana chuckled, looking into the fire.

Puck's smile faded as he looked more closely at Santana's profile.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Santana spat out a little too aggressively, upset that her normally stony exterior had cracked and exposed just a little vulnerability.

Puck seemed to hover on the edge of pressing the issue, before accepting defeat. Reaching under the chair he pulled out a large bottle of red smoking liquor he had apparently been drinking before Santana had joined him.

"Is that...?"

"Firewhiskey? Yeah it is," grinned Puck.

"Want some? You look like you might need it."

Santana started to deny that she needed anything before thinking better of it and merely taking the bottle along with a great swig of it.

"You said WHAT to her?! Oh my god I can't believe you!" Santana was nearly hysterical with laughter.

She and Puck were laying besides each other on the deep emerald rug next to the dying embers of the fire, the bottle of empty fire whiskey tossed aside under the chair, light glinting off the glass. It must have been nearly three in the morning. Puck could barely speak, and he propped himself up on his elbow, giggling like Santana had never heard a boy giggle.

"I know, I know! I have no idea what I was thinking!"

Santana was still laughing when Puck looked down at her.

"You really are beautiful you know, especially when you smile," He said, suddenly serious as he took in every detail of her face.

"You should do it more often."

"Why would I SM-?" Santana began to ask, feeling herself getting upset despite the compliment, but then Puck's lips were on hers. He was kissing her, and she was almost surprised to find she was kissing him back. His body was warm against hers and she could feel the scruff of his face against her own smooth complexion. A quick flash of Brittany and Artie popped into her mind without warning, and as if to fight it off, she began kissing Puck with renewed vigor. He was quickly becoming more heated and was on her in moments, caressing her face, kissing down her neck, pulling at the buttons of her blouse. Santana was suddenly overcome with an inexplicable wave of sadness through the haze of the whiskey as Puck slowly kissed down her stomach, but it gave way when Puck pulled her face towards his own and all she could see and feel was him.

"Are you sure you're okay, San?"

"Yeah I'm fine, thanks," Santana grimaced.

The loud voices of hundreds of students mingled with the clinking of silverware, dishes, and goblets were seriously contributing to her splitting headache. Brittany was sitting besides her at the Slytherin table while Santana played absentmindedly with her scrambled eggs.

"Tell me about Artie."

"Well we spent most of the night in the library. He told me about his family and where he grew up and stuff and I told him all about Lord Tubbington and how I used to collect pink power rangers."

Santana laughed in spite of herself, but the sharp pain in her head made her regret it instantly.

"Then when we said goodbye he showed me this really cool trick where he does a wheelie in his chair!" Brittany said happily.

What had Santana been thinking? The pit in her stomach that had been there since this morning when she'd woken up next to Puck seemed to grow deeper. Brittany had been talking in the library. And watching that boy do stupid wheelchair tricks.

"Then he kissed me on the cheek and told me my eyes were the most beautiful color he'd ever seen!"

"Real original," Santana hissed without thinking, suddenly upset again as she pictured the scene.

Brittany looked surprised and sad that Santana wasn't reacting with excitement.

"I mean, that sounds really nice, Britt."

Santana forced herself to smile, and the girl looked a little happier. Santana didn't understand it. She had slept with Puck. And still, she glanced across to the end of the table where he was talking animatedly with some friends, she felt nothing more than friendly affection for him, and Brittany's news seemed to cut right through her. What's wrong with me she thought angrily, stabbing aggressively at a potato on her plate as her best friend continued to gush about the evening she'd had before.