"I don't get it."

Brittany doesn't even look up from her homework when Santana speaks, just stays where she is, lying on her stomach on her bed, surrounded by text books. It's getting late and this essay needs to be handed in tomorrow, and so far she's had no help from Santana. Instead the Latina has spent the evening on YouTube, apparently doing nothing but watching videos of West Side Story.

"I don't think it's supposed to make sense, San. I mean, come on, what kind of street gangs battles by having dance offs? Why did they not just make them dance crews in the first place? Then it would have been like Step Up and that would have been way cooler." She's kinda getting West Side Storied out. It's the only thing everyone at school seems to be talking about, and now Santana seems to be getting a little obsessed with it as well. Last night, Santana had insisted they watched the movie. This morning on the drive to school, she'd had to listen to the cast recording. And tonight, Santana would rather give her attention to YouTube than to her.

"Not the show, Britt." Santana swivels round in the chair, the first time her eyes have left the screen since she got here. "What I don't get is why the hell Wheezy and Bilbo are fighting over who gets to play Maria." She sighs. "Maria sucks."

"It's the lead." Brittany shrugs. She's pretty sure Santana already knows why they both want the part, and this is confirmed when Santana rolls her eyes at her answer.

"It's just they're throwing down over Maria when everyone knows Anita is the kick ass role in this show. Anita is a bad ass. Anita is snarky. Anita is..."

"Really really hot?"

"It's not like either of them are even sopranos."

If that's a requirement for Maria then this musical is pretty much doomed, seeing as there are no sopranos in Glee club. Then a brilliant idea hits her. "Kurt should be Maria."

"What?"

She sits up. "Kurt should be Maria. Then he'd get a lead role like he wanted. And Blaine can be Tony. And it'd be really romantic."

Santana stares blankly at her for a while, then smiles. "That's actually a brilliant idea. As much as I hate to admit it, Kurt would make an awesome Maria. Too bad that the school board would never let it happen."

Brittany frowns. "Why?"

"You know why, Brittany."

She does know why. It still sucks though. Still sucks how Kurt and Blaine are so careful around each other in the hallways, always wary of anyone seeing them even touch, let alone kiss in public. That's why she has to win this election. So she can at least try to change things. Then maybe Kurt and Blaine won't be the only ones who have to be so careful around each other at school.

She flops back down onto her back and groans. She needs sleep, she needs to finish her homework, she needs Santana to finish her homework for her. "Are you done playing online now? Because you did promise to help with this essay if I let you come over." She decides to break out the pout, she's tired of not having Santana's full attention and not above playing dirty to get it.

"You don't need my help." Santana stands and crosses over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. She picks up the essay, quickly scanning over it. "See, you got this. You just need to write your conclusion and you're done." She pats Brittany's leg. "Now come on, get on with it." She moves back to the computer desk, sliding back into the chair.

"What do I get for finishing it?"

Santana keeps her eyes on the screen. "A passing grade."

"That's not much of a reward."

"Then what did you have in mind?" She seems to realise five seconds too late what a dangerous question that is, as she suddenly spins around, a wary expression on her face.

Fortunately for her, Brittany finds her brain is so over run with the many possibilities, that she can't decide on an answer. The fact that Santana's eyes seem to have darkened isn't helping. "Urghhh." Yeah, she can't even form words with Santana looking at her like that.

"How about you finish the essay, then we'll negotiate?"

Brittany nods and scrambles across the bed. She drops back down to her stomach, pen poised over the paper. The problem is she really can't concentrate on it at all now.

Santana has gone back to YouTube and fires up yet another clip of America, the same one that Brittany is sure she's played at least ten times already tonight. This obsession with West Side Story is slowly starting to make a little more sense. "Hey, San?"

"Yeah, babe?"

She still gets a thrill when Santana calls her that. "Why aren't you auditioning for Anita?" She's not sure why she hasn't asked her this before, it's so obvious now that she's thought of it.

"Oh please, like I'd be seen dead in the school musical."

She always has been fluent in Santana, so she's able to translate that sentence with no trouble, know that what she really means is she wants this too much to even risk trying and failing. "You'd be awesome. You know that, right?"

Santana just shrugs, but she does slowly turn to face her.

"You would. And you know why I think no-one else has gone for Anita? Because they all know that part is yours. They'd all suck and you'd just own that stage."

"I'm not sure Broadway is really me."

"Santana, you can be anything you want to be." She's forever trying to get her to see that. She might not be getting anywhere with it, but that doesn't mean she plans on giving up. "You can do this."

"You really think so?"

"I think this musical will suck if you don't. You owe it to everyone to play Anita. You have to save the show, San, you have to." She kneels up, and beckons Santana over to her. "Besides I think you have to do anything your President tells you to. Isn't that how it works?"

"You're not the President yet." Santana stops at the end of the bed, hooking her arms around Brittany's neck. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait to start abusing your power of office."

Brittany places her hands on Santana's hips. "You're still gonna do it though."

"Maybe. I'll think about it, okay?"

That's good enough for now. Brittany leans in to kiss her, but Santana pulls back. Santana shakes her head, but she is smiling. "You need to finish that essay. Then we'll see about that reward." She pulls out of her arms and makes a move back towards the desk. "You know you're going to be an amazing Class President."

"I know. I'm awesome."

"Yeah, damn right, you are." Santana sinks back into the chair but her eyes remain fixed on Brittany.

Brittany picks up her essay and tries to focus on it, but she can't seem to think of anything that isn't Santana related right now. She grabs her pen and quickly writes one final sentence, before pushing everything off the bed onto the floor. "Done. Now you said something about a reward?"

For the first time in a while, Brad has managed to get the auditorium to himself. Just him and his piano, the way he likes it. The auditions for West Side Story have meant that hasn't happened very often lately, much to his annoyance. This musical has meant various members of New Directions have been ambushing him at every opportunity, all demanding he accompanies them, usually coming up with some ridiculous inappropriate song choice. He never cares enough to suggest they rethink. At least that new kid with the bow ties had the sense to go with a song from the show. He'd also have given the Berry girl credit if she hadn't insisted Somewhere be butchered into a Streisand like soft pop version. And don't even get him started on the Hummel boy and his Sais.

He hears the auditorium door slam and cringes. So much for his peace and quiet. He considers making a break for it, but whoever it is has a clear view of the stage, and he refuses to be seen running away from a Glee kid.

"Hey Pianoman. You're a hard guy to track down these days. Been practicing your hide and seek skills?"

Santana Lopez. He's a little surprised that she's seeking him out. Then again she's surprising him a lot lately. He's still waiting for someone to meet with an unfortunate accident after since Schuester decided to be a moron, again, and kick her out of his little club. How the curly haired muppet thinks he can win Nationals if he's going to throw out these kids every time they upset him, he doesn't know. If this is his new game plan, there will only be Hudson and the Asians left by Christmas.

Santana has reached the bottom of the steps now and hops up onto the stage. "Who's got you running scared this week?"

He shrugs.

"Everyone then? Yeah, they are being especially annoying lately." She walks towards him and he freezes. It's his usual reaction whenever any of these kids are around his pianos. They're far too fond of sitting on them, standing on them, he's not even keen on their need to constantly circle around them all the time. She must notice his reaction as there's a glint in her eye. "Relax, Red. I come in peace. I'm not carrying any flammable liquids or sources of ignition. Your piano is safe." She offers him her sweetest smile, and then adds, "For now anyway."

That's what he's always liked about her. She never tries to charm him into helping her out, she always just gets to the point. Last year, she would come to him quite a bit, just to talk. He thinks she likes that he never talks back, that he'll just sit in silence while she rants, never interrupting her, or sprouting cliches at her. He wonders if she maybe believes he's mute like he's sure the rest of them do. Maybe this is why she's always seemed to think her secrets are safe with him, or maybe she just trusts him because of their mutual dislike of the others.

"So West Side Story. I'm thinking about auditioning."

There she goes surprising him again.

"Whatever, it's no big deal."

He doesn't need to ask what role she's going for. He fumbles through the sheet music he has laid out on top of the piano, until he finds A Boy Like That and holds it up.

"Right." She has her hands clasped together now, something she does when she's nervous. "It's just all this Broadway shit has pretty much always been Berry and Hummel's thing, you know? It's not exactly me."

She might not have the traditional Broadway voice, he'll agree with her there, but he doesn't see that as a bad thing, and he's confident she can more than handle West Side Story.

"And I don't even know what I'm thinking asking you for advice. You really screwed me over last year with that Amy Winehouse song."

He doesn't think he did. In fact, she killed on that number. It wasn't his fault that St James twerp was so besotted with the Berry girl that no-one else even stood a chance.

He stands and gestures for her to take the seat at the piano.

She scowls at him, folding her arms. "I haven't been practicing."

That doesn't surprise him. She'd been so determined when she had first asked him to teach her to play last year, but once she'd decided it was just easier for him to accompany her on Songbird than learn it herself, her interest had dropped off. He stays standing though, just in case she changes her mind, and sure enough after a moment, she slide onto the stool, though her hands just ghost over the keys.

"So West Side Story. If I do audition, it needs to be an Anita song, right?"

He's still holding the sheet music and he places it in front of her. Her face scrunches as he does so. "Can we not go with something a little easier?"

He shakes his head. She can do this, he knows she can. He's just not sure why she doesn't. She's not usually the kind of person who lacks confidence, or at least who'd ever admit that anyway.

"Brittany, she thinks I can do this."

Now this is starting to make sense. He should have known it was about the dancer. It's always about the dancer for her. Something tells him it always will be.

"I just...I just don't want to let her down, you know?"

He does know. He also suspects that's something that could never happen.

"Sometimes she looks at me like I can't do anything wrong."

He's seen her give the dancer that look on more than one occasion.

"It's a little scary."

Being in love is, something he thinks she knows all too well.

She shakes herself, as if suddenly realizing where she is, and why she's here. "So, you gonna help me or not?"

He signals for her to move and then retakes his seat. He plays the opening notes of A Boy Like That and waits for her to sing.

After school, Santana catches up to Brittany at their lockers. "Hey."

"Hey." She frowns at Santana, but soon breaks into a wide grin.

Santana opens her locker and starts collecting her books. "What?"

"You're bouncing."

She hadn't even noticed until Brittany pointed it out, but yeah, she is literally bouncing, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. She quickly stops herself, eyes darting around the hallway to make sure that nobody else noticed. People are much less likely to be terrified of her if they see her acting so freaking hyper.

Brittany leans towards her so she can whisper in her ear. "Relax, it's cute."

As a rule she doesn't like the idea of people thinking she's cute, but she finds she doesn't mind so much when that person is Brittany. However she has a reputation to preserve, so the bouncing? Definitely needs to go.

"You haven't been at the Pixy Stix stash, have you, San? Because they're supposed to be for the voters. If I'm not allowed to abuse my power as President, then you're not allowed to abuse yours as First Lady just to get a sugar rush."

She nearly points out again that Brittany hasn't won the election yet, but they both know it's pretty much a given at this point. "No, Britt, I'm not on a sugar high."

"Okay." Brittany looks less than convinced, and okay, maybe it is a little strange her acting like this, especially in the hallways of McKinley.

She's just going to close her locker when something certain words finally sinks in, and her head snaps to face Brittany. "Wait, First Lady?" For a moment she worries her heart has actually stopped, but then it's throwing itself against her ribcage. Repeatedly. For reasons she doesn't even want to start thinking about right now.

Brittany just gives her that smile, the same one she's been giving her for a few weeks now, the one that says Brittany knows something she doesn't. She doesn't dare ask what though. She gets the feeling Brittany wouldn't tell her if she did, that it's something she's supposed to work out for herself.

"So anyway, no Glee today, no Cheerios, that means you're coming over tonight, right? Because we need to celebrate you kicking everyone's ass and getting to play Anita." Brittany pushes off the lockers, hoists her backpack onto her shoulders and turns back to her. "And of course my awesome campaign, we should celebrate that too."

Santana finally manages to get her body to agree to move again and she closes her locker. "What do you have in mind?"

Brittany shrugs, but the way she's biting down on her bottom lip tells Santana that she knows exactly how she wants them to spend the evening, and well she isn't about to object to that.

"Then come on, what are we waiting for? Let's get the hell out of here."

They start off down the hallway, heading towards the parking lot. Neither of them say anything until they're sat in Santana's car. She's busy fastening her seat-belt when Brittany suddenly leans across and kisses her, nothing major, just brushes their lips together, then leans back in her seat as if doing this sat in the school parking lot is no big deal. Her heart had still been pounding as it was, but now it definitely feels like it's trying to beat it's way out of her chest. She waits for something to happen, for the sky to fall or something, but nothing. Nobody has stopped to stare at them, whisper about them, make snide comments. In fact nobody has even noticed, her world is still in tact.

"You're going to kill in West Side Story."

Santana hands shake slightly as she puts the key into the ignition. "Yeah, only because I'll no doubt end up murdering the Hobbits by the second week of rehearsals."

Brittany frowns, as if she hadn't considered how much time she's going to be forced to spend with them over the coming weeks. "But if you do that, then how can there be a musical? The leads would be dead and you'd be in jail."

"Oh please, you don't think I could make it all look like an accident?"

"No, because it's Rachel. You'll just snap and kill her in front of witnesses. And then the police will drag you away and that would suck." Brittany's voice wavers slightly. "I don't want you to go to jail so please don't kill Rachel."

She reaches for Brittany's hand and laces their fingers together. "Hey, I promise, okay? I'll be on my best behavior. I won't even make fun of Frodo's bow-ties."

"Good. Because I don't know what I'd do if I lost you now, after waiting so long for this."

That's enough to start her heart off racing again, and she's convinced that it must be trying to tell her something. Not for the first time she doesn't understand it though. "You'll never loose me, Britt. You're kinda stuck with me." And now she's being given that damn smile again, and this time she can't stop herself from asking. "What? Seriously, what is with the smile?"

Brittany squeezes her hand gently. "You'll figure it out."

It doesn't feel like she ever will, but Brittany seems to have faith in her ability to do so. Even if she doesn't have any faith in her being able to get away with murder. She just hopes Berry is on her best behavior as well. If not then she's screwed. "A little grievous bodily harm is okay though, right?"

"No."

"I'm not talking anything serious enough to stop her performing, but if say, she happened to fall off the stage at some point?"

"No."

"But..."

"No. You need to play nice."

"That is playing nice."

"No."

She sighs. These rehearsals are going to be a living hell and she's suddenly regretting this whole thing.

"Of course, Rachel won't know that you're not allowed to hurt her." She raises an eyebrow, but Brittany just shrugs. "I'm just saying."

It still surprises her sometimes just how sneaky Brittany can be. Maybe she can have some fun with this after all. But for now she's got an entirely different kind of fun in mind. "So anyway, you going to let me in the plan for tonight?"

"Nope. You'll find out soon enough, but I think you'll totally going to enjoy it."

She fumbles with the keys, trying to start the engine. Oh yeah, Sneaky-Brittany is definitely one of her favorite kinds of Brittany.