Santana really hates Thursdays. It's the one day of the week where she has no classes with Brittany, so their time together is already limited, and well today? Today Brittany is avoiding her. It's now lunchtime and Santana hasn't yet been able to run into Brittany at all. Therefore she must be avoiding her. It's the only explanation. She's shoving her books back into her locker, rather more violently than she needs to, when Sam suddenly appears at the side of her.

She can't help jumping slightly. "Jesus, Trouty. Have you decided to start stalking me or something?"

"Nope. Just came to tell you that your girl is conspiring with the enemy."

"What are you talking about?"

He pushes off the lockers and starts walking backwards away from her. "You might wanna try looking for her in the rehearsal room."

She slams her locker shut and storms down the hallway. Sure enough she finds Brittany where Sam said she'd be, and sure enough she isn't alone. She's currently being twirled around the room by a laughing Mike Chang.

She can feel Jealous Santana start to take over, but she quickly forces her back inside, locking her inside that cage that lies inside her chest.. She's in enough trouble with Brittany as it is without causing a scene over her dancing with Mike Chang.

She slips inside the room and sinks down against the back wall so she's sitting on the floor.

Mike notices her and immediately looks worried, but he seems to relax when she nods at him. He pulls Brittany back towards him and they slide instantly into a insanely complex routine. Brittany still hasn't noticed her presence, far too focused on every step and turn, and Santana's glad for that. It gives her the chance to just watch Brittany dance, really dance, where she's not dancing for anybody else, just for herself, where she can really let go and just move. And of course, Santana also doesn't mind the chance to admire Brittany's body, nope, not at all.

Once the song ends, and they've finished, Brittany finally spots her. She doesn't say anything though, just folds her arms and stares at her.

Santana guesses that it's going to be up to her to make the first move here. "Guys, that was badass. You two really are fucking awesome."

Mike smiles at the compliment, but Brittany doesn't react, her expression unchanging. Mike seems to pick up on the tension. "Well I need to go...do stuff." He grabs his rucksack and heads towards the door.

Santana shouts after him, "Hey Boy Chang, seriously? Those moves were the shit. Don't suppose there's any chance you want to defect over to the TroubleTones?"

He shakes his head, but he's still smiling. "Sorry. My loyalty lies with New Directions."

"Figured as much. Was worth asking though."

He laughs, then spins his way out of the room.

Santana turns back to Brittany to find she still hasn't moved. "Are you pissed at me?"

"No."

Something tells Santana otherwise. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Now she knows she's definitely in trouble, especially as she's not even really sure what she's apologizing for. "Erm, for being a bitch?"

"You're always a bitch." Brittany walks over to the other side of the room, where she grabs a towel and wipes her face. "You're never usually sorry for that."

"I know, but..."

"Santana, you have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Brittany sighs, keeping her back to Santana. "And I'm not pissed at you. I promise."

"Then if you're not pissed at me, why are you avoiding me?"

Brittany spins around to face her, frowning. "I'm not avoiding you."

"Really? Then funny how this is the first time I've seen you today."

Brittany's looking at her like she's crazy, and Santana starts to wonder if maybe she actually is loosing it. Maybe her mother was onto something with the whole therapy thing. "Santana, I've been busy. Did you forget that I have an entire new number for Sectionals to finish choreographing, and not much time to do it in?" There's no irritation in Brittany's voice, no sign that she's angry that she has to do that just because Santana can't pull herself together enough to sing that stupid Adele song. No, Brittany's voice is calm and even, and Santana knows she's just stating a fact. "I just haven't had time for anything else today."

"You found time to hang out with Mike Chang though." The words are out of Santana's mouth before she even registers what she's saying. So much for keeping Jealous Santana locked away. Seeing the hurt on Brittany's face, she tries to backpedal. "Sorry. I don't even know where the hell that came from. Ignore me, okay? I'm just tired. I didn't sleep much last night." She turns away from Brittany and walks over to the over side of the room. "I kept waking up with this feeling that something was horribly wrong."

She doesn't realise Brittany has moved to stand behind her until she feels her slide her arms around her waist and rest her head on her shoulder. "A feeling that only got worse when you woke up alone?"

Santana leans back against her, placing her hands on top of Brittany's that are currently resting against her stomach. "Yeah." She should have known that Brittany would understand, that she would have felt exactly the same.

Brittany kisses her neck. "Did you then start thinking about me being in your bed? And about all the things I'd do to you if I were?" The kisses move higher as Brittany starts working her way up towards her ear. Santana turns her head, trying to capture Brittany's lips with her own, but Brittany pulls back and stares at her instead, eyes dark. "And did that make you so crazy that you had to touch yourself?"

Santana's not sure what the sound is that escapes her mouth. It's not quite a moan, but she's pretty sure it isn't any language known to man either. Her heart rate has definitely increased, and her breathing has quickened, her chest heaving as she tries to force air into her lungs.

Brittany pulls her closer to her, which only makes Santana acutely aware of the swell of her breasts pressing against her back. "Did you lie there, desperately trying to pretend that it was my fingers inside you? Working you up, slowly but surely?"

Santana can't help her eyes from fluttering closed, her hips rolling forward, annoyed when they only meet air.

When Brittany next speaks, she whispers into Santana's ear, causing a shiver to run through her entire body. "But it wasn't quite enough to get yourself off, was it? So instead you ended up lying there, frustrated and wishing you'd took your girlfriend's side when she'd tried to tell her parents to stuff their stupid no sex rule?"

Santana tries to make sense of Brittany's words through her hazy, aroused state. "What?"

Brittany leans down and kisses her cheek. "I'm just saying, if you wanted the sex, then maybe you shouldn't have taken their side." Santana turns around in Brittany's arms, but can only stare at her blankly until her brain agrees to start functioning again. "Wait, are you trying to use sex to get me to do what you want?"

"Depends." Brittany looks slightly guilty. "Will it work?"

Santana shakes her head, but can't help smiling slightly. "And people say I'm the evil one in this relationship." She wraps her arms around Brittany's neck, and pushes up onto her tiptoes, satisfied when this time Brittany doesn't pull away and she's allowed to kiss her. They don't break apart until oxygen becomes an issue. Santana tries to get her breathing to even out, but she thinks it's going to take more than a kiss to make that happen. "Wanna move this to our favorite janitor's closet?"

When Brittany's hands slide down to grip her ass, Santana takes that as a yes, but then Brittany's eyes seem to clear. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting Mercedes?"

Santana had completely forgotten about that. She had promised to run through the vocals for this new song this lunchtime, but surely Mercedes will understand she has more important things to do, specifically her hot girlfriend.

Brittany's eyes narrow as if knowing exactly what Santana's thinking. "You can't just ditch her, San. That's not cool."

"Neither's you getting me wound up and then not following through."

Brittany presses a quick kiss to her forehead and tightens her arms around her. "Mercedes is our friend and she needs us right now. I think this Sam stuff is really messing with her head, and people messing with her head makes her go a little crazy, remember? Do you really want her going all full out diva on us again? Because if she does, I don't want to be the one sent out to find warm puppies for her, okay? Because I don't have a clue which store you'd go to buy those. And besides I'm totally more a cat person, than a dog person." Brittany tilts her head and stares at her. "Which I think is why I love you so much, because you like totally remind me of a cat sometimes. Or maybe I like cats because they remind me of you. I don't know."

It's funny how often Brittany's ramblings leave Santana not sure if she should be insulted or not. If anybody else ever compared her to a cat, then she'd launch herself at them in true Lima Heights fashion, but when it's Brittany? Well Brittany makes it sound like the best compliment she could ever receive. Santana is really going to kill that damn Trouty Mouth though. She's starting to become convinced that the sole reason he agreed to come back to McKinley is to make her life hell. She breathes out slowly. "Fine, I'll go play with Wheezy, but long as you make it up to me tonight." At least her parents going out of town has some advantages. "Come over to mine after Cheerios practice."

"But your parents..."

"Won't be home." She doesn't say any more, not wanting the discussion she knows Brittany would insist they have about how her parents leaving so soon after her coming out party makes her feel. She leans in again to kiss Brittany, but this time Brittany does stop her, slipping out of her arms and putting some distance between them.

"I don't know, Santana. I mean, don't you think we should talk about what happened last night?"

"No." She doesn't, she really doesn't want to talk about that, doesn't want to deal with anything that happened last night. "There's nothing to talk about. Your dad made it pretty clear that we don't get a choice in the matter, so we just have to deal with it."

"And we're going to deal with it by switching to having sex at your house all the time, instead of at mine?"

It sounds like a good plan to her. If her parents don't care what she gets up to, then why shouldn't she take full advantage of that fact? And a house all to themselves has the added bonus that they can do whatever they want without worrying about anyone walking in on them. And maybe Brittany isn't the only one willing to use sex as a bargaining tool to get what she wants. "Think about it, completely empty house? Maybe I'll even let you do that thing you've been wanting to try."

She doesn't miss the fact that Brittany's eyes trail over the full length of her body. Or how she's biting down on her bottom lip, clearly giving that some consideration. After a moment, Brittany swallows and carefully asks, "Which thing are we talking about?"

Santana almost tells her whichever thing she wants, but remembers just in time how dangerous an answer that would be. She's seen that list Brittany has hidden at the back of her top drawer, that list entitled 'Things I Really Want To Do To Santana' and okay, so maybe there's a couple of things on there that make her more than a little nervous. So instead she simply shrugs. "Come over tonight and you'll find out."

She's fairly sure she's won here, that she's escaped from having to have that particular conversation anytime soon, but then Brittany groans and shakes her head. "No. No, we need to talk first." People might think that Brittany is easily distracted by anything shiny, but unfortunately in Santana's experience she's found that Brittany can be pretty focused when she sets her mind on something. And right now that something is getting her to talk about her feelings. It doesn't help that the thought of finding herself completely at Brittany's mercy only seems to have turned her on even more. It may have been a mistake to start thinking about that damn list.

"Fine, whatever." She knows she won't be allowed to leave this room without at least agreeing to talk, but it'll suit her to delay it at least. "I'll see you in Cheerio's practice, okay?" She starts to leave the room, but Brittany grabs her arm and pulls her back for a searing kiss. She's not sure how long it is before Brittany pulls away, grabs her backpack and skips out of the room, telling her, "I'll see you in practice."

Santana stands there, panting, wondering if Brittany actually has any idea what she's doing to her. Death by sexual frustration is really not how she wants to go.

Brittany doesn't show at Cheerios practice and that does not go down well with Coach Sylvester. Santana has tried calling Brittany at least six times now and only gets through to her voice mail. If she's honest she's a little worried. She's already bearing the brunt of Coach's anger, being blamed for Brittany not being here, so she risks further wrath by asking if she can go look for her.

"Absolutely not." Coach sneers at her, actually sneers. "Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I'd actually believe you'd come back if you did locate your girlfriend? No, instead I'd be missing two cheerios while you two did things that I really don't appreciate you even making me think about. No, you're going to stay here, and I fully expect you to work twice as hard to make up for Blondie not bothering to show."

It's the practice from hell, and it's not like Santana is a stranger to tough sessions, but Coach really outdoes herself today. The whole squad is reduced to trembling wrecks in record time, and she tries to tell Coach that attempting any kind of pyramid right now is suicide judging by how much the freshmen are shaking, but Coach only tells her not to be ridiculous and that they're going to simply have to get used to this pressure. It's times like this that she's glad that as head cheerleader she gets to stand by Coach and just watch, occasionally getting to yell at the other girls herself, but when she makes the mistake of laughing when the pyramid collapses for the third time, then she knows she's in really big trouble. The next time the pyramid collapses, she's at the top of it.

It gets worse when Becky Jackson dares to blame her for the disastrous routine the squad just messed up. It takes three seniors and four juniors to break up that fight, and Coach looks less than impressed.

Finally it's all over and she's actually looking forward to crawling over to the locker room and passing out in the shower. Unfortunately, Coach has other ideas. "Sandbags? I want you to put all the equipment away." Normally this is the job of the freshmen, and they take the opportunity to make a quick exit. She knows better than to argue and simply does as she's told. To make it even worse, Coach stays with her, lecturing her as she goes. "You know I can't help thinking Brittany has made you soft, Lopez. People used to fear you, but now half the time you're walking around with a dopey grin on your face. I suppose being in love will do that to you, which is why I had myself vaccinated against such things."

She'd been hoping the lecture and having to stay behind to tidy up would have been the end of it, but apparently luck is really not on her side. "Now since I'm in such a good mood today, I'm going to give you the chance to prove I'm wrong, show that you're not going soft." That chance involves her running suicides, which isn't easy when her muscles were already cramping up. It also doesn't help that Becky is standing on the sidelines, shouting out more insults than Coach is. When Santana's finally finished, and is doubled over, struggling to breathe, Becky can't resist twisting the knife. "Coach, I think she should run laps too. Just to make sure she's up to leading your squad."

Santana straightens up and squares up to her. "Now listen here, Mini-Sue..." She doesn't get any further before Coach steps in.

"You know, Becky, I think that's a brilliant idea. Unless of course, Santana here thinks maybe she isn't up to being head cheerleader any more?"

Something that they'd both probably be glad to see happen, so of course she doesn't plan to give them the satisfaction. "How many laps?"

Coach grins at her. "Let's see how many you can handle."

The answer is four. She manages four measly laps before she can't go on, sinking to her knees on the field. It's only when no-one yells at her for this, that she realises that neither Coach or Becky have even stayed to watch. She groans, falling down onto her back and closing her eyes. Maybe she can just sleep right here tonight. It's not like there's anyone to notice if she doesn't go home after all, and not moving from this spot for several hours feels like a pretty good idea. Besides it's not like her body is likely to give her a choice in that matter.

She doesn't even have the energy to jump when she hears Sam's voice all of a sudden. "You know, you don't look too good. I mean like about to throw up all over the place not good."

That's probably because that's exactly how she feels. She opens one eye to find Sam standing over her. "And you're still claiming you aren't stalking me?"

"I'm really not."

"My mistake. Must just be yet another way the universe is trying to screw me over."

He sits down beside her, ending her hope that he's going to leave her alone any time soon. "And why would it be doing that?"

"Because it's got it in for me."

"Is that right? Because from where I'm sitting, you seem to have it pretty good right now."

"Whatever makes you think that?"

He shrugs. "Because you got the girl." Does she though? Or has she managed to screw everything up already? When she doesn't say anything else, he lies down beside her, his hands resting behind his head. "It's kinda nice and quiet out here."

She turns her head to look at him. "Okay, so I know why I've nowhere better to be, but why are you here so late?"

"I'm staying with Rachel, and it's a little weird." When she raises an eyebrow, he adds, "The Berry family likes to sing. A lot. I think I'd have been better taking up Finn's offer to sleep on his sofa."

She almost tells him that he can stay at her house, but she then remembers that her parents will be home at some point, and they might not take kindly to finding some random boy living in their house. Or maybe they would. Maybe they'd think she was sleeping with Sam, that he'd somehow managed to straighten her out. Yeah, he can just continue to live with Berry. They lie in silence for a while, until she works up the nerve to ask him the question that's been bothering her since he showed up. "Why'd you come back here, Trouty? I mean, you'd escaped Lima. I can't imagine why anyone would willingly come back to this dump."

"They asked me to."

"So what, you only came back so you could play the hero? Swoop in to save New Directions from defeat at the hands of the evil TroubleTones?"

He laughs. "Maybe. Or maybe I missed it, missed all you guys. When your family moves around as much as mine, the first thing you learn is that every single town is pretty much the same. It's the people that make the difference."

She almost asks him if he only came back so that he didn't have to work as a stripper any more, but holds back. It's the one thing that she can't seem to bring herself to give him a hard time about. Maybe it's the fact that it still hits a little too close to home seeing as how so many people believe that it's the only job that lies in her future. "So you coming back didn't have anything to do with a certain kick ass diva?"

This time it's him that doesn't answer her. Instead he sits up and stares out across the field. "Have you eaten today?"

"Yeah." She doesn't know what makes her lie.

Something tells her he doesn't believe her though. "Well I'm starving, so come on. I'll take you to go get a burger."

He stands, then holds a hand out to her and she lets him pull her to her feet. "I thought you had like no money, Trouty?"

"I didn't say I was paying." He studies her, sniffing a couple of times. "But you really need to shower first, cause you're kinda gross right now." He points towards the locker rooms. "I'll wait for you at your car."

She would usually have hit him for that, but sadly, he's right. She sighs and starts to make her way across the field.

"Do you not need to let your parents know you're going to be home late?" Sam knows the answer to that question before he even asks it.

Santana only rolls her eyes at him, then continues to eat her fries. Correction, his fries. She'd finished hers around ten minutes ago and then had promptly reached across the table and stolen his. Seeing as she's paying, he doesn't really feel like he can complain though. Besides they are his second serving, and she's bought him two burgers. Plus onion rings. She didn't spend this much money on him when they were dating. Actually he seems to remember having to pay for every single thing any time they went out. That's probably why after three dates, they always ended up just hanging out in his bedroom instead. He'd figured it would be cheaper, but several of his comic books disappeared during that time. Along with his Batwoman and Renee Montoya Mini-Mates.

She eats another few fries then leans back in her seat and stares across the booth at him.

All of a sudden he's nervous. "What?"

"You need to stay away from Mercedes."

He wants to tell her to mind her own business, but this is Santana Lopez, and he's pretty sure you don't ever tell her that. Not if you value your nuts anyway. Instead he just waits and lets her continue.

"She has a boyfriend, whether you like it or not. So you gots to leave her alone."

"Like you left Brittany alone when she was dating Artie?" He knows he's pushing his luck with that comment, but can't seem to help himself. He's more than a little surprised when she doesn't get even slightly angry.

"That was different."

"How is it different exactly?" He really doesn't see how it is. She was in love with Brittany and stole her back from Artie. Why shouldn't he be allowed to do the same with the girl he loves?

She drops her gaze, keeping her eyes fixed on the food sat in front of her, instead of on him. "Because you're better than me. You're better than to try and steal someone else's girl."

"Well maybe I don't want to be better. Maybe for once I want to be selfish."

Her head snaps up now and he can see the surprise on her face. She slowly shakes her head. "It's not the way to do it. You'll only end up getting hurt."

"How can you know that?"

"Because I nearly lost Britt by making that same mistake. I told her she had to choose between me and Roller-Boy, and she chose him, okay?" She raises her voice slightly and it's enough to make him flinch. "So don't be as stupid as me, and wait it out. Wait for them to break up, and then make your move." She must have finished saying her piece as she now goes back to eating her fries.

He sits, thinking over what she's just said and soon can't stop from laughing.

Santana however doesn't appear to be as amused. "What's so funny?"

"It's just, I never thought I'd be getting advice on women from Santana Lopez."

She scowls at him and when that doesn't stop him from laughing, she throws a fry at his chest.

"Hey."

It's followed quickly by a second, then a third and he has to place his hands in front of him to bat them away. The guy behind the counter is giving them dirty looks and he thinks it might be wise for them to leave before he says anything which will cause Santana to make a scene.

He slides out of the booth. "Come on. Let's get you home."

She follows after him. "Since it's my car, should I not be the one driving you home?"

"Probably." He'd had to drive them here though. She'd thrown her keys at him the minute she'd emerged from the locker room, thankfully looking far more alive than she had done on the field, and had informed him she was far too tired to drive. She still looks drained now, which is why he'd rather take the wheel than risk her crashing into a streetlight. He doesn't push it though, it is her car as she's pointed out. By the time they've made it out to the parking lot though she must have changed her mind as she hands him the keys again. He doesn't say anything, just climbs into the driver's seat.

They've driven maybe three blocks when she leans over to the back seat and grabs her rucksack from where she'd left it earlier, searching through it. Finally she manages to grab her cellphone and settles back in the passenger seat. Out of the corner of his eyes he notices her unlock it, and her eyes widen. "Shit."

She looks worried, and that alone is enough to make him worried. "What?"

She glances up at him briefly, then starts fiddling with her cell. "Ten missed calls, five text messages, and three voice mails from Brittany."

"That's not good." The look she shoots him tells him he might just be stating the obvious there. "You didn't tell her you were out with me? Is she pissed?"

"More freaking out that I'm lying dead somewhere I think." She brings the phone to her ear, checking her voicemails.

"That's really not good."

She sighs, letting the phone drop away from her ear.

"Is everything okay with you guys?" He has no idea what makes him ask, he knows it's a really bad idea. "It's just with Brittany skipping practice..."

"Everything's fine."

He didn't really expect her to say otherwise. He slows the car down, checking for any other traffic on the road, before doing a U-turn.

She twists in her seat to glare at him. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you over to Brittany's house so you can apologize to your girlfriend for upsetting her."

Sam's never been to Brittany's house so Santana has to give him directions but it doesn't take them long to get there. When they do Santana shows no sign of getting out the car however. He sighs, only just managing to refrain from banging his head against the steering wheel. "Just go in there and tell her you're sorry. Girls like it when you do that. I think."

She doesn't look convinced, but does climb out of the car. He does the same, locks it and hands her back her keys. He glances down the street, realising that he has no idea how to get back to Rachel's from here, or how far a walk it is. Great.

"Wait, hold up."

He stops, letting her catch up to him. She drapes an arm around his shoulders, startling him a little. "What are you doing?" She leans her weight against him, and he has to act quick to keep upright, sliding his arm around her to keep them both on their feet.

"Maybe you'd better come inside with me. Maybe it hurts more than I was letting on. Maybe I need your help to even walk." Her voice is quiet, and she won't look at him.

She was fine earlier, and he's fairly certain there's nothing wrong with her now either, but he learned a long time ago that sometimes it's best to just go along with Santana. To just shut up and do what you're told. He sighs but starts walking them towards the house. He notices she's also suddenly developed a limp and he can't keep from rolling his eyes. By the time they reach the door, Santana has her eyes shut and he's left with no choice but to knock.

The man who answers the door can only be Brittany's father. He looks Sam up and down, frowning.

Sam offers him his best smile. "Erm, is Brittany home?"

It's only then that Mr Pierce seems to notice Santana is currently buried into his side. He raises an eyebrow but otherwise doesn't seem too surprised to see the state she appears to be in. "What happened to her?"

"Coach Sylvester." Sam doesn't think it needs any more explanation than that.

Mr Pierce just shakes his head. "That woman. She runs them into the ground yet these girls still keep going back for more. Don't think I'll ever understand that." He steps outside, walking past Sam. "Brittany's in the garage."

"Okay." Because that's totally normal.

The garage is joined onto the side of the house, and Mr Pierce steps off the porch and walks across the drive. He pulls up the door. "Hey Brittany, you've got company." He leaves the door wide open, then heads back inside the house.

Santana pokes him in the side, and he takes that as a hint to move. Santana is now pretending to be even more of a dead weight in his arms and he's suddenly really regretting getting involved in this. Once he sees inside the garage, he stops dead. "Whoa."

There's none of the usual clutter that normally fills up garages. Instead the inside is basically a dance studio. Three of the walls are made up of mirrors, and other than a sofa in one of the corners, there's nothing else there to get in the way of the dancing. A door to the left leads back to what he assumes is the inside of the house.

Brittany's standing leaning against one of the walls, arms folded. The fact that she's wearing sweats and a tank top tells Sam she must have been working on something, and he wonders if she spends much time hiding in here, if this is her haven for when she needs some time alone. He suddenly feels like he's intruding, like he really shouldn't be here. Probably because that's exactly the way Brittany is looking at him. Until she notices Santana that is. Then her expression softens, eyes filling with worry and she's at her side in seconds. "What happened?"

Santana opens her eyes. "I'm okay. I'm fine." She follows that up with a whimper though, just for good measure.

Brittany helps Sam move her over to the sofa and lie her down on it. Brittany sits down at the end of the sofa and Santana slides forward, rolling onto her side and resting her head in Brittany's lap. Brittany looks up at Sam, clearly expecting an explanation.

He shoves his hands in his pocket, not sure what he's supposed to say. He decides on the truth. "Coach Sylvester kinda pushed them pretty hard after school I think."

Santana shifts closer to Brittany. "Wasn't that bad. Suicides, laps, the usual."

"Was she mad because I didn't go? I didn't mean to not show, I promise. I was practicing in the auditorium and just lost track of time. I'm sorry, San. I didn't know she'd take it out on you." Brittany pushes the hair back out of Santana's face and leans down to press two kisses to her forehead. She glances up at Sam, and he can tell there's more she wants to say but won't as long as he's here.

Santana must notice Brittany is close to tears, as she is suddenly acting more alert at least. "It's okay, Britt. Really, I'm fine."

When Brittany runs a hand over her side, Santana winces and Brittany quickly pulls back. She lifts up Santana's shirt to find her left side is covered in a large angry bruise, which even Sam has to admit looks painful.

Brittany gently reaches out and traces the edges of it with her finger. "Did you like get dropped from the pyramid?"

"No." Santana answers quickly.

Sam thinks it's better Brittany knows the truth just in case of any internal bleeding or anything. "Yeah, she did. Four times."

That earns him a death glare from Santana. "Knew you were stalking me, and why are you even still here, Trouty?"

Maybe because the alternative is to start walking back to Rachel's.

Brittany carefully slides out from under Santana. "I'll be right back." She dashes over to the side door and disappears into the house.

Sam walks over to the far side of the room and takes the chance to fix his hair. He watches Santana's reflection. As soon as Brittany has gone, she sits up a little, resting her head in her hands. He keeps his eyes on the mirror as he speaks. "Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?"

She looks like she's about to fire off an insult at him, but then instead just settles for, "As usual I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Can't you see she's upset enough without thinking you're seriously injured here?"

She rolls her eyes. "Shouldn't you be getting back to Casa Berry? I'm sure they're missing your dulcet tones in their dinner theater productions. It's probably a nice change for them to have a boy in their house that can actually sing, instead of having to settle for Finn."

Thankfully Brittany is back before Santana can throw any more insults in his direction. She's carrying a bag of frozen peas and several bottles of what Sam guesses are massage oils. Yeah, maybe that's his cue to leave.

Brittany crosses over to the sofa and signals for Santana to roll over onto her stomach. She sits down on the edge of the sofa, then lifts Santana's shirt again and presses the bag of peas to her bruised side. Sam might just take a little satisfaction when Santana hisses and tries to move away. "Jesus, Britt, that's cold."

Brittany simply frowns at her. "Yeah, they're frozen peas."

Santana grumbles a little more but does allow Brittany to hold them against her side.

Sam stays for a few minutes, trying out a few of his best moves on the dance floor. Neither of them are paying him even the slightest attention though, not even when he does his body roll and he decides it's definitely time to leave them to it. "Well, it's getting late. I'll see you two tomorrow." He slides across the floor, then starts to walk towards the door.

Brittany hands Santana the peas and stands up, following him. They walk in silence until they reach the bottom of the path. He stops then, still not having a clue which way he's supposed to go.

Brittany points to the right. "Rachel's house is four blocks that way." She closes her eyes as if trying to recall some information from deep in her brain. "You wanna go left, second right, left, then right again."

"Thanks."

She nods at him, then starts back towards the garage. She stops though and turns back to him. "Thanks, Sam. For looking after her."

He's suddenly hit by guilt, feeling bad for helping Santana deceiving Brittany. "She's faking it. She's not really hurt, just sore I think."

Instead of being angry like he expected, Brittany only smiles and shakes her head. "Well duh."

"You knew?"

"Yeah. She's head-cheerleader. You think she only got that because she's the only one who can be as mean as Coach Sylvester? She got it by being the best, and working her ass off. So you really think Cheerios practice is enough to wear her out? No, she'll be worn out sure, but she's fine."

"But why pretend to be hurt worse than she is?"

Brittany shrugs, but he gets the feeling that she knows exactly why. When he continues to stare at her, she must realise he isn't going to leave without getting an answer and sighs. "You can't tell anyone this, okay? But sometimes she likes it when I fuss over her, when I take care of her. Plus she probably thinks she won't be in trouble with me and that I'll feel sorry for her and we won't have to have a conversation she's been avoiding."

"Is it going to work?"

Brittany only smiles shyly at him and he doesn't know if that's a yes or a no. "Night, Sam." He watches as she makes her way back down the driveway. She closes the garage door behind her and he's left alone. He doesn't ever think he'll understand those two or their relationship. Now if he can just remember those directions Brittany gave him.

Brittany must have spent a little too long walking Sam out, because by the time she returns to the garage, Santana has fallen asleep. She can't help smiling a little though when she sees that Santana did at least manage to remove both her jacket and her shirt, and arrange the oils on the floor before doing so. She shakes her head, a little disappointed herself that she won't be giving Santana that massage. She grabs the blanket that rests over the back of the sofa and covers Santana with it. She kneels down, and presses her lips to the top of Santana's head.

She can't help feeling more than a little guilty. She really hadn't meant to forget about practice. It's just that she had skipped her last period and gone to the auditorium to try to sort out the last missing piece of this number for Sectionals. Everyone's counting on her, and yet she can't seem to figure out the last part. It's not been easy coming up with what she has so far. It needs to be awesome, but yet it needs to be something the rest of the group can learn in time. She knows Santana and the other cheerios will be fine with it, but Mercedes and Sugar might be another story. She guesses she must have gotten too caught up in her dancing as the next thing she knew it was hours later and she'd had several missed calls from Santana. She'd tried calling her back straight away and then had panicked when she got no answer, worried that Santana was mad at her, or worse, that Santana thought Brittany was mad at her.

She'd even gone over to Santana's house, letting herself in to only find it empty. She hadn't missed the money sat on the kitchen counter, or the contact numbers for a hotel in Seattle that was pinned to the refrigerator. That had only left her wondering why Santana hadn't told her that her parents were out of town.

She kisses Santana again, then climbs to her feet. She moves over to the other side of the room. She stares at herself in the mirror, and takes a deep breath. It's bothering her that she can't quite get this routine down like she wants to. She's tried it so many times today, that she doesn't even need the music any more. It's already playing non-stop in her head. She only wishes she knew why it wasn't working.

She's working through it again when the door to the house opens. She keeps moving, though her eyes move over to where her dad is leaning in the doorway. "Santana okay?"

"Yeah."

He nods, but doesn't leave.

He's putting her off, so she rather ungracefully pulls out of a turn and scowls at him. "Are you going to make her go home?"

He sighs. "No, Brittany. I never said she couldn't stay over. Why is everybody treating me like the bad guy here?"

She wants to say it's because he is, but that might not be the best idea she's ever had.

"You're upset. Your mom isn't speaking to me because she thinks I'm over-reacting. And apparently Santana thinks I'm plotting her death? All because I try to set some sort of rules for my teenage daughter to follow?"

She stares down at the floor, showing no signs she's listening to him.

"You know what, forget it. You want to be treated like an adult, then fine. Do whatever you want. You probably were planning on already doing just that anyway." He walks back into the kitchen.

She's turned her attention back onto her mirror image and starts the routine over when she notices Santana stirring. She keeps dancing. Santana manages to sit up, but her movements are stiff and awkward. There's that guilt again. That this is Brittany's fault. She should have known that Coach Sylvester would have taken her absence out on Santana. Santana shifts slightly, frowning as she picks up the bag of frozen peas from behind her back and frowns at it. She drops it to the floor at the side of the sofa, then fixes her attention on Brittany.

Brittany's keeps her eyes on Santana's reflection, finding it easier than to face her right now. Finally, Brittany manages to ask, "Can we talk now?" She slows her movements but doesn't yet stop dancing completely.

Santana looks like that's the last thing she wants to do. "What do you want to talk about, Brittany?"

"Last night. I don't get why you were acting so weird."

"I wasn't acting weird. I was trying to respect your parents' wishes and not have sex with you. But you weren't making it easy." Santana seems to suddenly realise she's sitting there topless except for her brr, and she searches for her shirt. As soon as she finds it she pulls it over her head quickly.

"But I wasn't doing anything." Brittany spins around now. "And it kinda hurt that you didn't seem to trust me to not try and have sex with you."

"That's not..." Santana groans, resting her head back against the sofa. "Don't you get it? It's not you I don't trust. It's me."

Now Brittany's even more confused. Maybe talking about this wasn't a good idea after all. "San, you need to explain, because I don't understand what you're..."

"Why don't you get it? You always just get it." It's almost like Santana isn't even really talking to her, her eyes are fixed on the ceiling, and Brittany wonders if maybe she's talking to God, but then she remembers that Santana doesn't do that any more.

Brittany waits for Santana to explain, but it doesn't happen. Santana is muttering under her breath, but the few words Brittany can make out seem to be Spanish. Brittany gives up on getting any kind of real answer to her question, so turns back around, once again starting to move across the floor. Santana's mumbling eventually stops, leaving them in silence, but sadly it's not that comfortable silence they normally enjoy, and Brittany feels a sudden need to break it. "When you weren't answering your phone earlier, I went over to your house to look for you."

Santana lifts her head up. "Is that right?"

"Yep."

The silence takes over again, but it isn't long until Santana speaks again. "Hey, Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"I told you that my parents are going to be out of town for the rest of the week, right?"

She wonders if Santana really thinks she's going to let her off the hook that easily. "So when you asked me over to yours tonight, was that because they've gone away and you wanted to have sex, or was it because they've gone away and you didn't want to be alone?"

Santana sits forward and studies her, as if trying to judge which is the right answer here. "Maybe a little of both?" When Brittany doesn't react, she shrugs. "Okay, so it may have mostly been the sex thing."

"This is what I don't understand. You're acting like it's the end of the world because we can't have sex all the time now, but yet you took my parents' side and agreed to these rules."

"I didn't take anyone's side. What did you expect me to do? Start a fight with them? Brittany, in what universe is me yelling at your parents a good idea?"

Brittany thinks that over, before finally deciding, "Probably in Bizarro World. Isn't everything like the total opposite there?"

Santana doesn't seem impressed by her answer. "Believe me, I hate it as much as you do. Being in the same room as you, wanting you so badly and not being able to do anything about it? God, it's seriously messing with my head. Why do you think I bailed on you last night? I knew if I didn't, then I wouldn't be able to resist you, and I knew once I started touching you, I wouldn't be able to stop, and then we'd be having sex and your dad would walk in on us, which awkward, on so many levels."

Brittany shudders at the thought. "Yeah, that would not be cool."

"But they're your parents, and I kinda have to respect their decision because they're just doing what they think is best for you. They're just showing that they care about you, and that's kinda awesome. Do you know what I'd give to know mine actually give a shit about me?" Santana leans forward and rests her head in her hands, staring down at the floor. "Instead they just think I'm batshit crazy."

"Santana, I'm sure they don't..."

Santana jumps to her feet and starts pacing. "No, they do. Do you know how I know? Because last night my mother told me that they do. She told me that they think I need to see a shrink. Oh and apparently it's not the first time they've thought about putting me in therapy. So yeah, they think I'm nuts. That I should be locked up in a padded cell and..."

"Hey." Brittany moves over to her, placing her hands on her arms to still her. "Listen to me. You are not crazy, so stop, okay?" She lifts Santana's chin to get her to look at her. "You're not crazy."

"I'm not so sure about that." Santana exhales slowly. "Sometimes you make me feel like I'm going crazy."

Brittany hesitates before asking, "But in a good way, right?" She's not sure if she can handle it if the answer is no.

"I'm not sure yet."

Not the answer Brittany was hoping for, but she'll take it. She slides her arms around Santana's back and pulls her into a hug. She quickly lets go though when Santana flinches. "Come on." She takes hold of Santana's hands and leads her over to the sofa. She sinks down onto it, pulling Santana with her. Soon Santana is curled into her side, her head resting on her chest.

They fall into silence again, but this time it feels more like it's supposed to. She's starting to think Santana has fallen asleep, but then she shifts slightly, pulling back enough so she can look up at Brittany. "Hey, Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to dance with you."

"Now? You sure you're up to it? Because you kinda look like you might pass out at any minute."

"No, not now." She sees the hesitation, then Santana continues, "At Sectionals. I want to dance with you at Sectionals."

"But we are dancing at Sectionals. That's kinda the TroubleTones thing, remember? The kickass dancing."

Santana's studying her like she's trying to work out if Brittany is simply pretending to misunderstand her, or if she really doesn't get it. It's very rare that she gets that look from Santana. Other people sure, but Santana normally can always tell if she's trying to make a joke or being serious. Apparently not tonight though. "I know that, but I want to dance with you."

She's not sure why Santana seems to think that just repeating the same words is going to suddenly make her understand.

Santana must realise that as she sighs, then tries again. "You asked me last year to dance with you, to get up on that stage and show everyone who I really was and I couldn't do it. And I know that everyone knows now, but I want to get up there and dance with you. I mean really dance with you. Like you were dancing with Boy Chang today. Well maybe not exactly like that, because I can't keep up with you like he can, but something similar, you know? Something a couple would dance together to."

"You'd do that?" When Santana nods, Brittany can't resist kissing her. She keeps it fairly tame though, still not sure where they stand on the whole sex thing right now. She knew there had to be a reason that she hadn't been able to finish their Sectionals number. Now she knows why her mind wasn't letting her come up with the last piece of the puzzle. Her brain now feels like it's working overtime trying to think of something awesome they can do, and it doesn't take long for it to think of it. She grins. "What do you think about the tango?"

A/N:

Huge thanks to anyone who is still bothering to read this fic, especially those who took the time to review. I know it seems to keep taking me ages to update, but life keeps getting in the way at the moment.

I know I might have lost a few readers with having Brittany's parents trying to enforce a no sex in the house rule, but I just couldn't see Brittany's dad being okay with not doing so. Even if he is the only one who thinks it's the right thing to do.

Also I apologise for the large amount of Sam in this chapter. He always just seems to have a way of forcing his way into my fics. What can I say, I have a soft spot for Sammy Evans. If I had to pick one of the Glee boys to be my lesbro, I'd definitely choose Sam.