Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.

Have to say, I'm pretty overwhelmed at the response to this fic. I can't believe how much of a response you guys have given it after just two chapters - really encouraging me to keep at it :)

~xxx~

The next morning, Santana woke in something of a daze. She could barely remember the events of last night after getting home; she had been back just in time for dinner, exchanged a few brief words with her parents about her day – mostly nodding her head and making 'mmm' noises – before heading upstairs and staying there, staring up at her ceiling for the rest of the evening.

Unsurprisingly, her thoughts were focussed entirely on Brittany Pierce. Last year when she had first set eyes upon the blonde, Santana knew she had fallen hard. Whether it was her looks, her demeanour, or just her general bad-girl image, Brittany had occupied Santana's thoughts for many weeks at the start of their junior year. Of course, she wasn't deluded enough to believe that her feelings would ever be reciprocated – Brittany was tough, popular, and almost certainly straight. Santana had considered adding some sort of extra formula to her popularity equation regarding how large the gap could be between two people's scores before they couldn't possibly date – but it had all been far too depressing for her, smitten as she was.

More than a year later, Santana was pretty sure the feelings had been buried. They hadn't gone away, but she had long since come to accept that nothing would come of it, and had moved on. And she meant it too – she wasn't one of those weirdos that spends hours pining at home with depressing music blaring through her iPod. No, she was far too logical for that; Brittany was out of her league in almost every way, Santana had no experience with any kind of relationship, and she was pretty sure Brittany would break her nose for so much as looking at her the wrong way.

Sometimes she wondered how she had even realised she was a lesbian – it's not like she had ever even been with anyone of either gender.

Oh yeah. She saw Sam naked.

If any clarification had been needed, that was it.

With that rather unwanted mental image, Santana shook herself from her thoughts. As she had been last night, the brunette was staring up at her ceiling, unsure of exactly what time it was. Her mother's voice could be heard downstairs; no doubt talking to one of her friends on the phone. At least she knew she hadn't overslept – her mother left for work only ten minutes before she began her walk to school. Brittany was right, of course – it would be easier if she had a car; it would certainly give her longer in bed every morning. Sighing, she struggled into a sitting position, and rubbed at her eyes with her palm. There was barely any light filtering through her space-themed curtains, and for a moment she was again confused as to what time it was. However, a few moments of remaining motionless and silent told her everything she needed to know.

It was still raining.

She groaned internally, already considering the possibility of retreating back under her Wonder Woman sheets and pulling a sickie. But no, if there's one accolade Santana Lopez had, it was a perfect attendance record. Rolling her eyes at her own inability to break rules, Santana swung her legs out of bed and got to her feet. With barely any light coming through the curtains, she found her eyes straining even more than usual to make out her surroundings. Having stepped on one too many action figures in her life, she first grabbed her glasses from beside her bed, before turning on her desk lamp. The room was bathed in a warm glow, and instantly Santana was greeted with her familiar surroundings; shelves lined with countless models of characters from various movies, games and TV shows; multiple posters depicting the very same people; multiple ceiling-height racks of DVDs and video games. If a stranger was to see her room, Santana was positive they would assume it's owner was a teenage boy.

Her desk was a mess; various sheets of paper from multiple assignments littered it, while several more pieces of memorabilia sat around the edge of it. Once again, she sighed; some of that work was due in today. She turned to the radiator on the other side of her bed, over which she had hung the notes that had been soaked the previous day. Thankfully, none of them were necessary for today's hand-ins, but it still meant rewriting everything from scratch. At least this morning she knew to keep everything in her bag.

Letting out a quiet yawn, Santana padded over to her freestanding wardrobe and opened it, grimacing when she saw her reflection in the mirror attached to the other side of the door. With her hair a tangled mess, eyes red from rubbing them too much, and slightly too-big Batman pajamas, she was a hell of a sight – and not in a good way. Some days she would feel especially pathetic, vow to change her life completely and ditch her nerdy pursuits, and perhaps even try to be more social. Of course this would last all of a single day before she was back to watching her Star Trek boxsets. Just like her feelings for Brittany, the brunette had slowly come to accept that some things were never going to change – these were her interests, and the only person she would be fooling if she attempted to hide them was herself.

Grabbing the first clothes that her hands could reach – a plain gray hoodie and a baggy pair of black sweats – she quickly got dressed and headed downstairs, making a mental note to grab her assignments from her desk before she left. As predicted, her mother was in the kitchen on the phone. Maribel Lopez smiled at her daughter as they made eye contact, mouthing 'It's abuela' before responding in Spanish. Santana nodded in acknowledgement. She and her grandmother had only recently started speaking again after nearly two years of awkward silences and half-hidden glances during family gatherings. Alma had reacted badly at Santana's coming out, but after realising that by pushing her granddaughter away, she was also losing Santana's parents, she had begun making more of an effort to accept that her 'little Santanita' was a lesbian. Things were far from perfect, but it was one of the few aspects of Santana's life that she really felt was looking up.

Pouring herself some cereal, Santana looked out the kitchen window and felt her heart sink. It really was torrential out there; if anything, worse than the previous evening. She only had one coat, and it was far from waterproof; not only that, but with her locker as full as it was, she'd have to carry it around all day. Not wanting to bother with the hassle, Santana resigned herself to the fact that she was going to be drenched before she even arrived at McKinley. Still, at least she'd barely notice any slushies she received on her way in.

"Do you want me to drive you in?" Maribel asked, having finished her conversation. Santana considered briefly, but decided no – her street cred might be at rock bottom, but she was pretty sure Quinn Fabray and co. would add a few extra notches just to knock her down them if she was seen being driven to school by her mother.

"No, it's fine," she replied, shaking her head dismissively. "I'll be fine. Managed last night, didn't I?"

"Suit yourself," her mother said with a shrug. "Just don't complain when you come home with little fishies swimming in your shoes."

"I'll try not to squash them," Santana said with an appreciative smile when her mother pressed a kiss to her head as she passed behind her.

"I can't believe we don't have a single umbrella in this house," Maribel said with a sigh, pulling on her own coat from the rack by the front door. "I'll pick one up for you on my way home. Weather's meant to stay like this all week."

"Joy," Santana sighed, finished her breakfast and getting back to her feet. "You watch – it'll be clear blue skies next week, knowing the weather we have round here."

"Wouldn't surprise me," her mother replied. Santana heard the front door opening. "Have a nice day, mija!"

"Bye!" she called back, leaving the kitchen just in time to see the door closing.

Heading back upstairs, she quickly gathered her schoolwork together – filed by subject of course – before packing it into her bag. She finally pulled the curtains back, just in time to see her mother's car pulling out of the driveway and heading off into the rain. Left alone to her thoughts, Santana began wondering whether there would be any acknowledgement from Brittany at school. Probably not, she reasoned – if anyone had been around to see them, she was positive the blonde would have simply driven right past. That also ruled out telling her friends what had transpired; if they told other people – not that they had many friends to actually speak to – then word might get out that badass Brittany Pierce helped the least popular girl in school. And that would only mean one thing for Santana – a broken nose, at the very least.

What a way to go, though.

Honestly, Santana was rather pleased that the thought of Brittany hurting her didn't fill her with that same guilty excitement she had felt the previous evening. Maybe she wasn't so weird, after all. Though to be fair – it was about the only Brittany-related thing that didn't excite her. Sometimes she would intentionally linger in certain corridors in the hope that she might see the tall blonde insulting someone.

Okay, totally weird.

She was shaken from her less than honourable thoughts by a rather surprising sound – a car horn. Santana frowned; had her mother decided to come back and insist she took her to school? The Latina moved over to the window and leant on her desk as she peered through it, and it was all she could do to not let out a rather embarrassing noise of surprise. Sat in her driveway, occupying the space usually taken by her mother's car, Santana could see a rather familiar black Chevrolet. From the angle her window afforded her, Santana could just see a pair of hands drumming absent-mindedly against the steering wheel.

Tearing her eyes away from the window, Santana grabbed her back and took off down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. She skidded to a halt in the hallway, pausing in front of the mirror near the front door. And in a single moment, several hundred thoughts ran through her mind: what was Brittany Pierce doing at her house? Why did it have to be on a day when she'd completely forgotten to shower? Why had she been so lazy with her clothing choices? Was this all actually a dream and she was about to wake up for real? Swallowing uncomfortably, the brunette turned away and headed to the front door, gripping the handle awkwardly. Slowly, she opened it and peered out. Sure enough, Brittany was visible behind the wheel, looking down at what Santana could only guess was her phone. The rain and wind was incredibly loud, yet oddly distant at the same time – at least to Santana's ears.

As she stood in the doorway, continuing to stare at Brittany's car as though it were a hallucination, the blonde herself looked up. A smirk ghosted across her lips, before she nodded her head towards the passenger door. Santana didn't need telling twice; locking the front door behind her, she dipped out from the shelter of her porch and quickly pulled the car door open, sliding into the seat.

"You took your time, Specs," Brittany said, tucking her phone into her jacket pocket. "Were you in the middle of rubbing one out over She-Hulk or something?"

"I, uh…" Santana stammered, her cheeks already burning. "I wasn't expecting you."

Brittany just shrugged. "Don't wanna give Fabray the satisfaction of hearing you drowned before she got a chance to slushy you or whatever."

"Uh…thanks, I guess…" Santana replied, buckling her seatbelt as Brittany backed the car onto the road.

As it had been the previous evening, the ride was silent for a while. Santana just clutched her bag in her lap, occasionally chancing a look at Brittany, who kept her eyes forward at all times, once again looking almost bored. Curious, Santana glanced over her shoulder to the back seat, where Brittany's own beaten-looking messenger bag sat. Despite her own vested interest in the blonde, Santana had to confess that she knew little of her academic prowess. They only shared one class – biology – but due in all likelihood to their teachers secretly sharing the students' fear of Brittany, Santana had never once seen them ask Brittany to contribute. She just sat at the back with her head down; for all Santana knew, she could just as easily have been working, or doodling.

"You know, Lopez," Brittany began, causing Santana to whip her head back way too quickly. "If you wanna ask me something, I won't bite."

"Oh, I wasn't…uh…" Santana mumbled, looking down for a moment, before sighing. "Actually I was just wondering how you're doing at school. With most people you can tell, but…yeah…"

"Fine, I guess," the blonde replied with another shrug. "Not worried about failing, if that's what you mean."

"Okay," Santana said with a nod. "I mean…uh…great. That's great."

"No point asking how you're doing, brainbox," the taller girl continued, smiling briefly. "Highest grade average in the school, right?"

"Uhh…yeah," the brunette replied, looking away again. "Something like that."

"Is it worth it?" Brittany asked. Santana looked up, confused. "The slushies, I mean. You can't tell me you don't get some sort of kick out of knowing no matter what Fabray does to you, you're always gonna be smarter than her."

"I…" Santana considered for a moment. "I don't know." She sighed, and closed her eyes for a moment. "I know I should turn the other cheek. Listen to all that 'they're just jealous' crap, but…I don't know…"

"Hold up, Lespez," the blonde cut in, smiling again. "Did you just say 'crap'?"

Santana blinked.

"Uh…yeah?"

"That's hilarious," Brittany sniggered. "Didn't think you were capable of saying anything worse than 'damn'."

"I'm not as uptight as people think, you know," Santana said defensively. She didn't even know what she really meant by that, or why she had said it. Brittany, however, still seemed amused.

"Sooo…what, you're really a dirty girl that sneaks out at night and goes to strip clubs?" the blonde teased, instantly causing Santana's blush to return.

"What?" she gasped. "No! Why would you even…uh…"

"Christ, calm down, Specs, I'm just messing with you," Brittany said, shaking her head. "You need to lighten up."

"Sorry," Santana mumbled, hanging her head.

"Aaaaand she's apologising," the blonde said with a sigh. "Look, Lopez-" She paused, and took a moment to emphasise it. "Santana. You need to learn to not take everything people say seriously."

"Given that most of the time they are serious, I just kinda accept it," Santana shrugged. "I figure I've only got to put up with this stuff for another year, then it's all over."

"Not with that attitude, it won't be," Brittany said flatly. "Once a pushover, always a pushover. You think people will go easy on you just because you're not at high school anymore?"

"That's easy for you to say…" the brunnete said quietly, turning away. Brittany glanced at her.

"Hm?"

"I mean it's easy for you to say that, given you don't have to put up with any crap from anyone," Santana continued, her tone becoming rather bitter. Brittany, however, was nonplussed.

"Neither do you," she said simply. Santana was about to reply, when she realised with surprise that they had stopped. She looked out the window, expecting to see the school parking lot. Instead, she was greeted by the sidewalk further along the road from McKinley.

"What…?"

"Gonna let you out here," Brittany said. "No offence, but I don't want Fabray seeing me driving you in. And you probably shouldn't tell anyone, either."

"Oh…oh, right," Santana stammered. She was surprised at just how much it hurt. Perhaps she had been deluding herself, but she thought she and the blonde had actually been getting on quite well. Apparently not. "I'll…uh…see you, then."

Brittany just gave a casual wave and waiting for Santana to step out of the car, before continuing on her way. Santana took off along the same route at a brisk pace, keen to get out of the rain before she became so wet that the ride had been a complete waist. Mind you, she was beginning to think it had been just that. Everything was just as it was before – Brittany Pierce was still a foul-mouthed enigma with more walls than Minas Tirith, and Santana was still rendered breathless simply by being in her presence.

The rest of the day progressed just like any other – Santana ended up receiving a slushy just before lunch, and was treated to Sam and Artie spending the rest of break planning horrible things they wanted to do to the Cheerios and their boyfriends. She only glimpsed Brittany once, and if the blonde had seen her, she didn't show it. But given Brittany's words before their parting, that was to be expected. Despite the blonde's instructions – and her own doubts – Santana had been tempted to tell her friends of her two rides with McKinley's most feared student, but again decided against it; it just wasn't worth it. There would be so many questions and so much disbelief, and for what? For her to tell them that Brittany had acted like Brittany and that was it?

With mounting stacks of homework, Santana was so ready to get out of there when the final bell of the day rang. Unsurprisingly, it was still raining sideways, with no sign of stopping. They had another of their clubs that evening, and while tempted to just leave straight away, Santana was persuaded to stay by Sam, who was babbling about the latest movie trailers that had been released. It was a welcome distraction from her rather confused thoughts regarding a certain girl. Sam had offered to give her a lift, but given that he always drove Artie home, Santana couldn't bring herself to have him driving off in the opposite direction just for her. With promises of chatting online later, the group of friends parted ways, and Santana found herself once again preparing to set off into the rain, wondering briefly if her mother had managed to get an umbrella for her yet.

And when she stepped out into the parking lot, Brittany was waiting for her.