Well sorry about the wait, I was sick and then there was an unexpected death in the family, so it's been family bonding time for the last few weeks. Hope everyone is enjoying their summer, even if it's study filled like mine XD Please review.

Chapter Two: Not So Pleasant Surprises

"Apparently that's not the only thing she's got," Santana said, leaning against the lockers as Quinn sorted out a few books in her own. "I sexted Puck last night, and he said he was quote un-quote – hanging with his girl Brittany." She rolled her eyes dramatically, recrossing her arms after doing a few air-quotes. She knew Quinn was barely paying attention to her, or the things in her locker, the blonde was glancing over at the oversized goof known as Finn Hudson; the rising freshman quarterback who was pretty much already the quarterback, due to the other guy's constant sucking.

"Wait, he actually said his girl Brittany?" Quinn asked in disbelief, glancing over at her fellow Cheerio.

There was a bit more attitude in Santana's every move and stance this morning, signs of more agitation than usual. Noah Puckerman had yet to ever give someone the title of being his girl the entire school year thus far, and after being around for only two weeks the new girl had managed to gain just that. Everyone knew Santana was going for Puck, just like Quinn was going for Finn. Well, except for both the boys themselves. Somehow.

"Yes, he actually said that, Fabray. And you know what? Not only was I pissed that that bitch had stolen my man, I thought to myself for a moment – Hold up, I can barely move, let alone do the dirty with Puck. I was just wanting him to bring me a pint of my favorite Ben & Jerry's-"

"There's something cruel about that," Quinn interjected, but her friend continued on, as per usual mid rant. She had received a text from her fiery minion – and yes, she did think of her as such on sacred grounds – when she assumed the fiery Latina had finally made it home after enduring whatever punishment their coach had forced upon her, going on and on about how she despised the new girl who somehow still managed to forget who 'Santana Fucking Lopez' was. Really, it was obvious to Quinn that anyone who could walk the halls at McKinley and not know the name Santana Lopez obviously wasn't in touch with things. One thing specifically – hierarchy.

"She wasn't even tired." Santana finished, waving her hands dramatically. "What's up with her? Does she have it out for me or something? This girl is just so-" Stopping short, she couldn't even think of what the girl was; frustrating, infuriating, something else with an -ing ending. But there was one thing she did know, "the next time I see her-"

"Fighting another Cheerio is forbidden, Santana, you know that." Checking herself in the mirror, and happening to catch Finn turn his eyes back to the contents of his locker with a shy smile, Quinn sighed. "Look, I know you're worried about the new girl stealing your thunder, but it's you we're talking about. Aren't you the same girl that tripped Stacy Myers during Cheerio try-outs while she was teaching us a routine, fracturing her ankle and ruining her entire senior year?"

"There were no witnesses to back her up on that," Santana said, thinking back on try-out week. It was the summer before school starts, the heat was beyond ridiculous, and she herself had recently discovered that she could rule McKinley High if she became a Cheerio, thanks to her older brother's then recently ex-girlfriend – Stacy Myers. "Anyways, that bitch got what she deserved. Who the fuck cheats on my brother?"

After putting on some lip-gloss, Quinn smacked her lips together twice before and smiled lightly as she caught Finn's eye, obviously she wasn't the only one happy with the results of her mid-morning touch up. She closed her locker, turning to face the other girl. "The only thing this girl has got on you is a few flips and twirls, and you know what? You can't be at the top of the pyramid if you're twirling around at the foot of it. Remember that the next time you see her."

Santana eyed her friend carefully, her eyes squinted into thin slants. "I think you're on to something."

"Aren't I always?" Turning slightly so she could look at Finn as he finally closed his locker and headed to class, she leaned against the lockers alongside her partner in crime. "You and I are going to be the top bitches at this school next year, and seeing that we're both too headstrong and unwilling to be each others' lap dogs, there's only one use for a girl like Brittany." Seeing her friend's brow crease in confusion, the blonde continued. "A girl who isn't afraid of the people at the top, and who looks like that, belongs at the top."

"Wait—what?" Santana asked, sure she hadn't just heard Quinn correctly. Yet again, someone she knew who was of high status was choosing the blonde as part of their fold. Of all the people though, she never expected to hear those words from Quin, the one person who knew exactly how much Santana wanted to be on top. "I think you need to run that by me again, because I couldn't have heard you right, Fabray."

"Don't be over dramatic," Quinn said, pushing herself off of the lockers. They started the long trek to McKinley's gym, where they were about to endure yet another Sue Sylvester style practice. Some could say it was homicidal, but others praised her technique, mostly because they were afraid of her, which Quinn could respect. It was part of the reason she wanted to join the Cheerios at McKinley, Sue Sylvester was a thing of legends in Ohio.

"It's me you're talking to," Santana huffed, tightly crossing her arms across her chest as they walked the halls, head high. "All I heard was lap dogs, and Brittany belongs at the top."

Quinn laughed. "I'm thinking your selective hearing may be the reason behind the many altercations you've had with the entire student body, in just one semester. I'm giving you advice that has been passed from one bitch to another, generation after generation – Keep your friends close..."

"I get you," she said, not finding it necessary to complete such a cliché. "I'm still not happy about having to talk to her, or being seen with her, or her looking at me." Quinn laughed beside her, but she was serious, there were only so many enemies she could befriend. One was hard enough to maintain. "But..." a grin spread across her lips. "I do like the sound of having a lap dog."

"Knowing you, there's nothing to worry about, you're probably just overreacting. She's new, and pretty, but soon she'll be old news just like all the other Cheerios we were competing with for the middle slots. I mean, look at us." As they entered the gym, the stragglers who wore the standard McKinley gym gear parted, a few of them ducking their heads and avoiding eye contact as she and Santana headed towards the locker room. "We're two freshman that jumped over every sophomore girl, except that one with the third nipple, to get where we are. It's a major accomplishment. This girl can be cute and bubbly all she wants, it takes a bitch to make it to the top, and you're the biggest bitch I know."

Santana's grin grew impossibly larger. "Aw, thanks Fabray." She paused. "But if I'm right, and she is trying to compete with all of this," she said, running her hands down her sides seductively as Quinn held the door to the locker room door. "Know that I will take this girl down."

"Lopez!"

Coming to a halt, Santana's head ducked hearing her name being blasted through the megaphone that sometimes haunted her drams. Literally just the megaphone at times. There was no way she was about to hear that she was being promoted to the top of the pyramid with the tone of the woman's voice. She turned slowly, noticing Quinn's slightly worried expression. "Yes, Coach?"

The woman marched over to her, pointing a finger in her face. "Israel tells me you decided to frolic in the sprinklers with Dopey yesterday instead of honorably facing the consequences of your inadequacy on the field." She lifted the megaphone to her lips. "Is that true, Lopez?" she blared. "Because Dopey here says it is."

Her eyes immediately looked past the towering woman, landing on a guilty looking blonde standing not too far behind their coach. Whether the look of guilt was because the girl was obvious a rat, or because she actually felt guilty was a mystery, but at the moment Santana couldn't care less. "You rat," she yelled, moving to step around the woman in a sudden fit of rage, but a firm hand grabbed her arm.

"San..." Quinn warned, hoping the other teen would remember her little reminder of the forbidden rule she had given earlier.

The megaphone now lowered, Coach Sylvester looked more angry than ever. "You better listen to your friend there, senorita."

After shaking her arm free, Santana straightened her uniform by running her hands flat against it, clearing her throat before speaking again. "Yes, Coach."

"Now, I'm assuming by your little fit of madness that Jew Fro was telling the truth. Not only did you supply him with unlimited wet dreams for god knows how long, you've also gave him amo against you for all the times you've berated his habitual creepy behavior." She looked over her shoulder, nodding for Brittany to come closer before glaring at the gathered Cheerios, quickly sending them on their way. "Neither one of you are worthy of those uniforms, and as someone who aspires to be a leader here" she said, looking specifically at Santana. "I cannot see what possibly possessed you to not only screw up the entire practice, but to then also outright disobey me in front of a rat like Jacob Ben Israel. Disgraceful."

"Sorry, Coach." Santana mumbled, fully understanding that she had let the woman down in multiple ways. She could see Brittany nodding in agreement with her apology and it only made her want to hit the blonde even more.

"For the next three days you're both suspended from all the privileges of being one of Sue Sylvester's Cheerios, including the privilege of wearing those uniforms."

"But Coach you can't-"

"Excuse me? I can, and I will," the woman said, sternly. "You have seventy-two hours to prove to me that I should accept you back on the team, and because of your little display of anger back there Lopez, I'm going to suggest a bit of bonding time for the two of you. Regular gym for three days, two hours extra practice everyday after school, and detention for insubordination."

Brittany groaned. "I hate detention."

Santana looked at the girl, appalled by her choice of what to groan over. Out of all the things, she was worried about detention? Santana's whole world could fall apart over the next three days, and all the blonde was worried about was some stupid detention? Her eyes went into thin slants, her lips held together tightly.

Sue rolled her eyes. "Lopez, you're already pushing it."

Putting her car into park, Santana sighed in relief at the sight of her two story home, which was a rarity. It was no Fabray mansion but that place was colder than ice – just like the Fabray's. Sure, her family was far from perfect; her father was barely around because he was the chief of surgery at the local hospital, her mother was a tyrant in the real estate realm with her head so far up her ass that it was no wonder she had the cockiest children around, and her grandmother hated her father, but they were a family that loved each other and stood by each other no matter what. She wasn't sure she could say the same when it came to Quinn's family.

Getting out of her car, she glanced over at her brother's '72 Corvette. He had built it with their father during his freshman and sophomore year at McKinley, and it was supposed to be a graduation present, but when Armando became the starting quarterback his junior year their father handed over the keys with the biggest smile on his face that Santana had ever seen.

"Why is he here?" she grumbled, grabbing her Cheerios bag out of the backseat. After his graduation, her brother had decided he wanted to start a fire under the house by keeping his job at Steak your Shake (a name she would never understand), and go to the Lima Art Institute. Apparently, he had a secret love for art that no one knew about. Needless to say, her parents were far from happy with his choice, and his presence tended to make the house more tense than usual.

"Hola," she said loudly, walking through the door. The sounds of hurried footsteps sounded through the house, mixed in with a few sliding squeaks on the the polished hardwood floors. She turned slightly, setting down her bag, while instantly raising her other hand in the opposite direction, a quiet slap being her as her hand connected with its target.

"You ate all the Lucky Charms, again."

She looked down at her little brother, arching her brow at the 'cape' tied around his neck as he swung at her mercilessly, his arms unable to reach her due to her hand pushing him back by his forehead. Armando used to do it to her all the time, and she found it very useful when dealing with her five year old brother, Axel.

"Calm down, or I won't give you the candy I bought you to make up for it." Instantly the boys arms dropped to his side, but she kept her arm extended for a few more seconds just to make sure he wasn't going to try to catch her off guard. Seeing that he wasn't, she got down on one knee, kneeling down to unzip her bag and pull out two packs of M&M's without peanuts, seeing that the boy was deathly allergic.

He squealed in delight, grabbing the two packages of candy before throwing his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly and knocking them to the ground in the process. "Thanks," he said, his voice muffled in her hair.

"You're welcome," she smiled, holding him close. He was a pain, but she loved him.

"I remember when you used to hug me like that, Sis," Armando said, standing in the walkway between the entry way and the dining area, signature Lopez smirk on his lips. He stood in his Letterman, a white shirt stained with various colors of paint underneath it, his blue jeans matching his shirt's state. His short curls hung around his eyes, and he lopsided grin on his face made him look more boyish than ever, but the small traces of the man he was shaping into were obvious in his young features.

Sitting up and moving Axel off at the same time, she glared at her older brother. "Yeah, before I started hating your guts." Their little brother frowned between them, and then shrugged before scampering off with his candy. "What are you doing here, Mando?" She slid past him, walking through the dining area before turning into the kitchen area. She eyed the sparkling counter tops, and expense pans hanging above their island. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," he scoffed, taking a seat at the bar as his sister started to gather her after-school protein shake ingredients. "Still swearing off actual meals?" he asked.

"Still a clean freak when you do something you know mommy and daddy won't like?" she asked, with a bitter edge. He gave a sarcastic smile, but didn't answer the question, so she simply sighed and continued preparing her shake. She was beyond starving, and tomorrow was going to be yet another day of bonding time with Brittany Pierce in gym class. "Where's Abuela?"

"Grocery store." He paused, watching her closely. "Something on your mind?" he asked, getting up to go lean on the counter beside her as she filled the blender with questionable ingredients. They may not have been close at the moment, but he knew that the only time their grandmother was asked for was when Santana had something to say. It used to be him that she went to, but that had changed years before. "Have anything to do with the fact that you're in McKinley High's standard gym uniform, instead of a Cheerios uniform?"

She couldn't get herself to look down at the disgraceful gym shorts and t-shirt she was sporting, the looks on the faces of the other Cheerios as she had filed onto the field for after school practice made her want to vomit. She was dirt, scum. The bottom of the pyramid. "This blonde bimbo at school is trying to take me down."

"She seems to be winning so far, from the looks of it." He raised his hands in defense when Santana turned to give him a pointed look, a warning he knew she meant wholeheartedly. "I don't mean the uniform, I mean you're obvious lack of true Lopez attitude. You're off your game. Drowning in the dumps. She's getting to you."

Slamming the top to the blender on top of the glass container, she pressed the crush button aggressively, holding the top steady as the sound of the blender echoed through the kitchen. "You have no idea what this girl has managed to do since she's enrolled," she yelled over the blender.

"A new girl?" he asked, beginning to laugh.

Turning the blender off, she realized just how hard he was laughing and growled, punching him in the gut and then stepping on his foot for good measure. "Seeing your current freak status, I suggest you shut your mouth."

"God. What is wrong with you?" He doubled over slightly, one hand on his stomach as his other rubbed his lifted foot. "No wonder you can't keep a boyfriend." He winked at her playfully before standing up straight, clearing his throat in the process. "But I hear you've been keeping that Fabray girl around."

"Do you want to get hit again? Whatever you're trying to insinuate, don't. Fabray and I want the same things at McKinley, and we know that we're the only ones who really have a chance of getting it, so-"

"Is she wearing a McKinley gym uniform, too?" His sister stared at him, not answering the question at all as she poured her shake into a glass, and started to drink it. He shook his head. "You're slipping. Oh, and by the way." He grabbed an apple out of a fruit basket on the counter, taking a big bite out of it. "I'm gay."

Quinn stood in front of her pool gate, staring out into the darkness on the side of her large home, listening for the faint sound of Santana's car being parked around the corner. It was late, and neither of them were supposed to be anywhere that wasn't in bed, getting their beauty sleep for another day on sacred grounds. However, a few hours earlier, she had received a hysterical phone call from none than Santana Lopez; a girl known to lose her cool in fits of anger, not emotions of the other variety. Anger, spite, jealousy – sure. But the girl she had heard on the phone was far from angry, and whatever jealousies that laid between them, she knew wouldn't be spoken of once the other teen arrived.

She heard the faint sound of an engine approaching and sighed in relief when the car was obviously turned off before it reached the area in front of her home. Considering the call she had gotten, she wasn't sure if Santana would consider their usual way of doing things when either of them would sneak over. Whether it be because one lied and said they were with the other and then had to actually go there after returning from whatever adventure (namely Santana), or if the family members were being outrageous (Quinn's area of expertize), there was a way things had to be done. Getting caught was never to happen, under any circumstance. If there was one thing they both understood, it was the wrath of an angry parent.

The sound of lightly crunching grass made her gasp in surprise, but hearing a few coded clicks of the tongue, which she returned anxiously, Quinn sighed in relief. Without having to really seek out the girl's full figure, she reached out a hand and wasn't surprised when one instantly met hers. Turning to the gate, she quietly pushed it open with her free hand, the bluish glow of the pool pouring onto them as they entered the backyard area.

Glancing over her shoulder to watch Santana gently close the gate behind them, Quinn was able to catch a glimpse of the Latina's puffy eyes. Turning away, she swallowed hard. Santana Lopez crying was not something she expected to see, minus a drunken encounter the other teen had absolutely no recollection of – yet another adventurous night that ended with her crashing (sometimes literally) at the Fabray house. Whatever had happened, it was huge, and for a split second she found herself searching through their various nights of fun; some of the images were too blurry to remember, with gaps of blackness in between, but a few others were quite clear. Seeing that her parents hadn't called the calvary to go on a crusade against her though, the thoughts quickly faded.

It wasn't like her to have friends, a choice that definitely wasn't hers, and she was sure that Santana wasn't much for friends either thanks to her bitchy persona so the whole comforting thing made her a bit nervous, but it was Santana. It was the one girl who stood by her side everyday, no questions asked. Sure there were accusations, but there were no questions, and being new in town and considering her history, she was beyond grateful for the girl's acceptance. Even if it was mostly rooted out of a crazed silent rivalry. Considering that Santana was the little sister of the recently graduated star quarterback of McKinley, immediately giving her status within those halls, Quinn knew the other teen could have brushed her off and left her to fend for herself, but she hadn't. It was time to return the favor.

Finally reaching her room, which was upstairs and closer to the back of the house to her relief – a request she had made upon moving thanks to the loud obnoxiousness that emitted from her parents' room after a late night Gin and Tonic – she closed her room door and locked it before leading the other teen to her bed so they could sit down.

Reaching for her lamp beside her bed, she ignored the quiet objection from beside her. "I know you've been crying."

Santana scoffed. "Just rub it in," she said, putting her hands in her lap and staring at them as if her life depended on it.

A soft light emitted in the room, revealing Quinn's pajama clad state, her hair pulled up into a messy bun. Santana was in a pair of shorts that were way too short with an old t-shirt and small jacket for the late night chill. The brunette was staring blankly at the ground, her eye puffy and red.

"Okay..." She could already see that there was no point in disputing the accusation, Santana was in reaction mode and it really didn't matter what anyone meant by anything, she was going to take it however she wanted. However she needed. "What's going on, San? What happened?"

Santana looked up from her hands, turning to look at the questioning teen. A pained expression formed as she first opened her mouth to speak, failing to get the words out. The result of her brother's visit haunted her, it tied her stomach into knots, threatening to push up any substance within it's confines. "They've disowned Mando." She paused. "They told him he's not aloud to come near me...or Axel." Her eyes slowly turned to the floor, her brother's pleas for understanding echoing within her.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Again with the art school drama? I thought they were over that. Praying for his sanity to return so he can follow in papa's footsteps, but silently brooding which could be seen as progress." Santana sat silently, not responding to her at all as her hazel eyes searched for answers. She had heard all about the famous art school Lopez blowup, and it had all seemed rather tame compared to what she imagined her father would do. A Fabray not going to business school? Unacceptable. She had taken strong notes, looking as if it were a science experiment she had so happened to land upon that could give her clues as to how such decisions would be received by her own family.

"It wasn't that," Santana finally said. She took a deep breath, and her head snapped in Quinn's direction. "He's gay, okay?" She heard the quiet gasp, saw the raised brow and slightly parted lips, but she kept going, unable to stop herself. "He told them he was gay, and now they don't want anything to do with him. They told him he couldn't be that way and expect them to let him near Axel."

The Hispanic's frazzled state now explained, Quinn found herself unable to even begin to think of a response to what she had just been told. Armando Lopez, legendary recently graduated quarterback of McKinley High, recently turned art reject – homosexual? She couldn't stop staring at the now quiet teen, stuck in shock and also a bit fearful.

Santana sniffled, wiping at her eyes before another tear could fall. It was one thing to cry in her car, or in the darkness of the night as she made her way across neatly trimmed grass, crying in front of Quinn was not acceptable. "What if I never see him again?"

"You will," Quinn said, urgently. Santana may have claimed to hate her brother on many occasions, sighting reasons such as a disgrace to the family name as a fresh and ripe freak, but it was obvious that she never meant it. If anything, Quinn suspected that Santana was upset that her brother had never shared his secret passion for art with her over the years. Apparently, they had been pretty close before the end of his senior year. Or the end of the summer following his senior year, she wasn't sure yet, Santana left a lot of blanks in her family time stories.

"You didn't hear them," she said, finally looking towards the blonde again. "They said some really fucked up shit." Somehow a laugh escaped her, mixing with a quiet sob, but again she pulled herself together. She was tired of crying, anyways.

Quinn shook her head. "Armando would never let anyone or anything to keep him from seeing you, he loves you." Sure, she herself may have only seen the two siblings together on three or four occasions, but it was obvious in the young man's goofy smile as he teased a scowling Santana. "You and Axel. No one can keep the three of you apart, not even your parents."

"What if they put a restraining order on him?" Santana asked, making sure she continued to hold Quinn's gaze. She found herself feeling like a child, a child looking for hope in the words of a parent. Of course, Quinn Fabray was no Miranda Lopez, but at the moment she was doing the one thing that she had wanted her mother, father, or older brother to do for her – Reassure her that everything would be okay.

"Do you really think they would?" Quinn asked, making sure to sound skeptical in tone. Sure, families could be dramatic, but she couldn't see the Lopez family making things any more difficult. Plus, such things would also draw a lot of attention later one when he ignored the restraining order so he could see his family, which she had no doubt they all knew he would. Santana simply shook her head in response, and Quinn offered a small smile. "Everything will work out fine, he'll make sure of that. A young Lopez always gets what they want, after all."

Santana smiled lightly. "Yeah. It's a nightmare for the Mr. and Mrs. though," she chuckled.

Smiling, she placed a hand atop of one Santana had just placed on the bed, both of them continuing to find humor in the moment before the Latina slowly removed her hand from beneath Quinn's, clearing her throat awkwardly. Quinn's mouth opened and closed as she tried to find something to say, but there was no point and she knew it. Tonight hadn't just revealed to her what would happen if in a similar situation, it had also clued Santana in, indirectly and yet firsthand.

When Santana started to stand, Quinn quickly broke out of her slight stupor. "You're not staying?"

She shook her head, pushing her hands into her jacket pockets. "Not tonight," she said, quietly. Walking towards the door, she ducked her head for a moment, taking a deep breath before glancing back at the quiet blonde. "Thanks, Q."

"Anytime, San."

– TBC –

I know, not much Brittany this chapter, but there will be lots of her from this point on. Just needed to lay a bit more groundwork. Next chapter will be all about the quality time Santana and Brittany must spend together as 'punishment'. Review, please!