Sorry it took so long to post! I've been going through a dry spell in regards to this story because there's really a million different ways I could go about this, but it's just so hard to pick one.

Also, PLEASE READ THIS.

I don't know about the North, but down South we have high school soccer season in the Spring. I don't quite remember, but I'm pretty sure they play high school soccer in the Fall and then cheerleading is in the Spring. I could be wrong, but even if I am – that's how it'll go in my story.

International Annoyance

Chapter One

"Since it's the first week of you being a team, we'll be doing a combination of marine and navy drills to sculpt you trash into proper athletes. We will continue this until the second week of school, three weeks from now. When I'm sure the fat and stench of failure have been sufficiently obliterated from your life forms we will begin to practice with balls."

A small collection of immature snickers resounded through the group only to be hushed with a few well-placed elbow jabs from the more responsible, experienced players. I cringed because these rookies were up for a rude awakening and because of the unintentional sexual innuendo.

Balls? Ew.

"Captain Lopez, pick your number." Coach Sylvester snapped me out of my vomit-inducing thoughts, standing challengingly, arms crossed and menacing as usual, behind a battered cardboard, poorly taped box full of well-funded and therefore rather attractive, red and white v-neck soccer uniforms.

Ignoring the slight tremor of excitement down my spine, I strode confidently to the box, my hard but regal steps pressing hard into the short, stubby greens.

"Why does she get to go first? I'm just as good, if not better and I –"

"And you're trash. Or have you forgotten that, Berry?" Sue never really beat around the bush, "I still don't remember how you got to be a soccer player, much less a varsity player. I may have been drunk – or sabotaged." Her eyes squinting in the sun flickered to her surroundings, shoulders tensing up. "Damn federal agents are on my tail again."

"I'm a reliable defender and I always –" Rachel huffed, choosing to ignore her coach's last comment.

"Screw up – which is why you're on the bench as of next game." Sue replied with a deadpanned expression.

Nice move, Berry, you always know how to dig yourself too deep.

I snorted to myself, hand slapping down on my lips as fast as the noise had come. Laughing now would do me no good, but knock me out of Sue's good graces once more. Settling down and getting my straight face back in order in under a second, I rummaged through the jerseys and short shorts – way too short to be actual soccer shorts I noticed.

Finally spotting the red jersey sporting a white number six on the back, my school number for the past year, I trotted back into place beside my newly announced teammates.

"Lopez, pick your backup captain." Sylvester commanded to me, thrusting a clipboard in my direction.

I scanned over the list of names that must have been our team roster. It was pretty much the same team they'd kept last year since the seniors graduated.

Quinn Fabray was still their treasured keeper, I was still their top offensive player, and no one else really mattered all too much. Of course Tina, Zizes, and that Junior whose name no one really knew still handled the line of defense and I still dominated the center field like the HBIC I was. But there was something different about our team other than Rachel Berry.

Something called Brittany S. Pierce.

Her name stood out on the roster, the little word "starter" scribbled beside it just like it was after mine and Quinn's names. I almost threw a mini party, because really who wouldn't want that piece of ass on the field with them?

I scanned the faces of our medium-sized, seventeen girl team. Who would be my backup captain this year? Quinn was it last year, but she proved to be a control freak and none too subtle about trying to pry the title of captaincy away from me.

A mental checklist in my head crossed the name Quinn Fabray off with a thick, red line.

I continued filing through teammates over and over again, even though I already knew who I'd pick.

"Quinn Fabray."

She smirked smugly at her teammates behind her knowing good and well that every one of them had been hoping it would be them. Turning her head back to me, she reached for the second black captain band clutched in my hands.

I pulled it away with a grin. This is what happens when you try to steal my title.

"Go take a lap. I saw you molesting that cheeseburger at McDonald's." Her face fell almost instantly, and mine flew up just as fast. "What? Did you think this was for you?" I fingered the band almost indifferently in front of her, "Get going, Tubbers."

Quinn scowled with a quiet, "Fuck you, Lopez," before breaking off into a half-assed jog down the white-coated lines.

Badly hidden snickers resounded from my team, who now stood with their own red jerseys slung over their shoulders. Rifling through the mass of bodies, I spotted two culprits.

Brittany and Rachel - they'd gotten pretty close since the tryouts last week. I huffed, but it wasn't like I was jealous or anything, I just didn't really like how Man Hands was standing so close to her. She's obnoxious and loud and I really don't understand why anyone would want to be around her.

I'm not jealous; she's just annoying, okay?

"Berry, laps. No laughing, smiling, or speaking when I'm around," I glared at her, letting her know good and well that the narrowing of my eyes wasn't because of the sun, "I tolerate you in school, but this is my field and you will shut the fuck up when I say so. Got it? Good. Go – if you catch Fabray and her fat ass, I'll let you start next game." I almost burst into my own fit of giggles when I heard the abrupt, heavy strides thumping down the lines and Fabray's startled yell of obscenities.

"Santana," everyone's heads snapped to her, eyes wide and shocked, she cleared her throat before trying again, "Erm, Captain Lopez, I was laughing too and I don't think it's fair that I got scott free." She shuffled in that adorable nervous way like last week at tryouts.

I didn't just say that.

Scowling internally I replied faux indifferently, "Well if you want to run instead of trying on your new band, I guess I could give it to someone else." I fiddled with the black band, letting it play on my fingers and starting a mental countdown in my head.

Just as I hit the last digit, a pair of arms hit me. "Really? You mean it? I'm the backup? This is so cool, San! Thank you so much, I promise I'll do my best! I mean – better than my best! I'll give a hundred ten percent, I swear! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

But I really didn't hear much of it because all I kind think of was those hard, flat abs pressed against mine and those long legs that just so happened to be wrapped around my waist and damn how her face was nuzzling into that sensitive spot right below my ear.

I cheered to myself, thinking she wouldn't hear through her celebration rant, "And she scores."

"What was that?" Brittany mumbled into the crook of my neck.

"I said, 'Oh, you're number four.'"

Wow I have no game.

"Oh! Yeah, it's my favorite number. "

"Cool." I smiled goofily into her shoulder, hoping that no one had noticed my embarrassing teenage boy behavior.

No such luck. Fourteen sets of raised eyebrows and owlishly blinking eyes were pointed in my direction. But I'm the captain after all, so this is all easily fixed.

"Five laps for warm up; if even one of you is left behind you take another five. Stay together in a group, we are a team and we will function as one." I commanded in a growl.

Somehow I still had that bitchy captain effect even with a very hot, very touchy blonde wrapped around my waist because in practically 2.5 seconds there was a stampede of feet across the hard-packed dirt. A heavy panting sounded behind me, Brittany still wrapped around my waist. Not that I was complaining or anything.

"Lopez –" Quinn wheezed out before being cut off.

I shot her a pointed look.

"Oh don't even try that captain bullshit with me Lopez, you can't threaten me into anything. I'm the only keeper you have and you need me." She hissed out through heavy pants.

I threw an internal hissy fit because every now and then Quinn had a valid point. Unfortunately, this was one of those times. In my mind there were two basic choices, let Fabray have her way and disrespect my authority – or be the badass I am and take the risk.

Well, I am a badass so of course I pick the second one.

"Oh please, we could put Zizes in there and nothing would get past her. She covers half the damn goal. She's like the wall of china – white, big, and built on Asian food."

Brittany slapped me lightly on the shoulder with a whine of, "Santana, that's mean." I almost believed her until I felt the curling of her lips against the fabric of my shirt; it was enough to tell me that she thought otherwise and bring a matching grin to my face though I'm positive mine came off much more badass and much less adorable.

Quinn huffed in defeat before gulping down half a bottle of water.

I cheered inwardly, putting up a little scoreboard in my head.

Lopez: 1

Fabray: 0

Mission accomplished.

I took a brief second to congratulate myself. I got the girl, had the bad guy running, and the captain band wrapped around my arm like a trophy. I had it all, because really I'm such a beas-

"Captain Lopez, I do believe that starting position is mine for our first-"

Leave it to Berry to ruin the day and speak at the worst possible times. Or at all.

"No."

"No?"

"No." I pivoted on my heel, heading to my own bottle of water with Brittany still in my arms.

"But Captain –"

"Cap'n said no!" Brittany chirped up, peeking over my retreating shoulder. I came to a steady stop, feet planted squarely with my shoulders and leaning backwards ever so slightly to hold up her weight. Then with a graceful spin that I'd never seen any soccer player possess, she leapt out of my arms and landed with poise.

Involuntarily shivering and mouth drying considerably (it was from the heat, I swear) I averted my eyes down to my own metal, eco-friendly water bottle, with full intent to quench my thirst and squelch any thoughts of how Brittany was jumping up and down, hair tossed with the wind and matched with a bright smile and God how her head tossed back when she laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners in glee and –

I'm creeping aren't I?

"Your creep is showing, Lopez."

Yes, definitely creeping.

"Two laps, Fabray."

"Why? Because I interrupted your little eye rape session?"

"Three laps, Fabray."

The disgruntled blonde huffed (she's been doing that a lot lately) and took off down the white lines once more with our team mantra flowing from her lips, "Getting skinny, getting skinny, getting skinny."

"It's good to be captain." A contented sigh passed through from my own lips before a fresh stream of liquid clogged it up much to my relief.

Rachel excused herself hurriedly upon spotting Coach Sylvester out of the corner of her eye, determined to win herself back into Sue's good graces and give herself a better title than "Right Wing Bench Warmer."

Another sigh, this time much more relaxed and relieved than the last. "Finally, some quiet." I dropped into a push up position, the toe of my right boot pressing down firmly into my left heel to stretch my tight calf muscle.

"So," Brittany began, stretching down to touch her toes from a vertical hamstring stretch, "when does school start again?"

I smiled, hiding it in the loose neck of my shirt. Still face down I replied, "In a week and three days. Have you gotten your classes yet?"

She took a second before she answered, "Yeah, I think so. But my cat scratched it up so I don't really know how I'm going to explain that to my teachers. They didn't believe me at my old school when I said it was my dog."

I chanced a glance up to her and quirked an eyebrow upon spotting her goofy grin, "Are you making a joke?"

"I could be. Was it funny?"

"Not really." I grinned cutely (read: like a dork) down to the ground before rolling onto my back to pull my knee up to my chin. My pony tail was messy now, but I guess rolling around in grass kind of does that. I shook it out of my eyes and peeked out from under the dark fringe at her. She was thinking hard it looked like, because her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips jutted out in a soft, pink pout before being captured between two sets of white squares and gnawing gently. I smiled through my question, "What are you thinking about?"

"Something funny."

"Like what?"

"Like how Rachel probably just lost any chance of a starter position for the rest of the season." She said standing up with a crooked smile and fingers laced atop her brow, shielding the aggressive rays from her almond-shaped eyes.

Silly Berry, schmoozing is for badasses.

"Five extra laps because Berry decided to open her fat trap!" Sue's voice boomed through the megaphone and across the field. I almost thought they didn't hear her until a symphony of groans and threats of, "Rachel you bitch!" and "Just wait until water break!" reached her ears. I'm almost certain the second threat came from one Lauren Zizes.

And just like that the dam broke, our little giggles and snickers turned into huge laughter blowing across the flat plains. She threw her head back again, just like last time – teeth showing, lips curling, hair whipping, and eyes crinkling at the corner. My breath caught in my throat again, because honestly it's been awhile since I've seen someone so genuinely, breathtakingly beautiful. Everyone at school was so fake and she was just so real.

We calmed down considerably before she started up a conversation again, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Nope, they piss me off too much." I rolled forward onto the balls of my feet before standing up to my full height.

She didn't waste time asking the next question.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

I definitely didn't see that one coming.

A little shocked I replied, "No –"

"-Good, meet me here at the field this Friday."

"What?"

"It's a date! A soccer date, it'll be cute!"

Now I can honestly say that yes, I was shocked before, but now? Now I was just completely baffled."But I didn't even say I was gay."

"You don't have to, I already know." She cut me off before I could ask how she knew. "You made an icky face when Coach Sylvester mentioned balls."

Oh, well that made sense. I was never very discrete about my sexual orientation.

"Wait, this Friday?" I blurted out, worriedly. "Brittany, Friday is tomorrow. We have no time to plan everything out, what to wear, where to go-"

"Calm down, we'll just make it up as we go along. Haven't you ever just dropped everything and done something just to do it?" She smiled sweetly, calming me down easily. "You need to let loose," She leaned in close, her lips barely grazing the hollow of my ear and her voice taking on a more sultry tone, "I can fix that."

A stampede of feet was approaching out of the corner of my eye, fifteen girls trudging along with their heads down and completely unaware of what was going on. Brittany seemed to notice to and pulled away quickly, but not before whispering urgently, "Friday."

She stalked away to her water bottle, taking long chugs. Little rivulets swam down the corners of her lips and pooled at the hollow of her throat. She kept her eyes locked with mine the entire time, mouthing the word Friday with a crooked, lazy grin.

I gulped drily and turned my back on her to collect my thoughts.

Friday, tomorrow, would I be there?

I glanced back at her, frowning slightly and made my decision on the spot.

Cliffhanger!

Can I get a WOOT WOOT! 3,200 words. Not bad.

PLEASE REVIEW. Guys, I need some feedback. Even a little, "Oh hey it was fine, keep writing." Is cool. Hell, even a short, "good." Is fine by me. ANYTHING. Review. Please. I'm begging you.

This is actually a pretty hard story to write and be creative about because there are SO many ways to go with this and I really do need your feedback. I write for you, not myself.

Also, guys I know you don't care but I SHOT MY FIRST SOCCER COMMERCIAL THREE WEEKS AGO! Yes, I'm getting somewhere (:

And if anyone you guys have a tumblr, it would be totally cool if you could follow me! Look up alltimeoffense and that's me!