Note:
Hello! :) I fired this one off quick because I have a lot of spare time at the moment and I'm trying to get as much done as I can before I go away over christmas and have no internet for awhile.
This is the 1st of two chapters devoted to the events surrounding episode 3 and I'll try get the next one up before I go away.
Thanks for your interest so far. Feedback is always appreciated!
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from New Zealand!
Ch 4: Girls
Santana awoke with a start, ejected sharply from her dream for no particular reason. She lay still for a moment, blinking at her ceiling. She could tell that it was very early in the morning by the stillness of the air and the eerie blue light that pressed through her curtains.
Still drowsy, she moved closer to the girl lying next to her. Santana could smell the musk of sleep on her skin, and the perfume of her hair. She gently pulled Brittany's limp form around and planted a kiss on her slack mouth. Then she pulled her lips back to trail them down Brittany's neck, one hand slipping beneath the blankets to the unbelievably soft skin on her breasts. When Brittany didn't stir Santana leaned further over her and took one nipple into her mouth, freeing her other hand from the blankets to trail it up the arc of Brittany's thigh. She inched her fingers upwards and tugged aside Brittany's underwear, stroking back and forth up and down her folds.
A shiver rippled through Santana and she took a jagged breath, pressing her lips to the soft skin behind Brittany's ear where the scent of her hair was strongest.
It was when she had dragged her lips down to the hollow at the curve of Brittany's jaw that Santana felt Brittany's pulse surge from its steady sleeping rhythm to a rabbit's scamper. Brittany's breathing pattern broke too and the sound of her moan, still coated with sleep, made Santana's insides liquefy. She shifted under Santana's lips, threading her arms around Santana's waist and shoulders.
"Good morning," she mumbled. In reply, Santana kissed her.
She upped the insistence and frequency of her finger strokes, edging her fingertips against Brittany's clit.
Brittany gasped like she'd been doused in cold water. Santana pressed her open mouth against Brittany's, feeling the hot slip of their tongues everywhere at once. Then she drew her fingers away, running them along the line of Brittany's underwear. Brittany groaned, milling her hips and pulling Santana closer.
"Please," she whispered. Santana grinned and drew her hand away altogether.
"What's the magic word?"
"Hmm? I just said it." Brittany clutched tighter around Santana's shoulders.
"Again." Santana commanded, her hand sweeping up Brittany's bare stomach.
"Please?" Brittany's voice was soft. Pleading.
Santana leant down and kissed her again, soft and slow. She shifted Brittany's underwear to one side and pressed her fingers into the wetness. Brittany's hips curved up to meet them and as Santana sank knuckle deep into Brittany, she had to close her eyes in wonder.
/
Santana was still lying in Brittany's bed when Brittany bounced back from her shower still in her pyjamas, clutching her towel.
"Did you forget how to get the water to go hot again?" Santana asked, sitting up against the pillows.
Brittany perched on the end of the bed, pursed her lips and shook her head. She looked as though she had something to say- as though the task of keeping it in was taking all her concentration. Santana nudged Brittany with her foot.
"What's up?"
"I just heard the coolest thing."
"Oh?"
"My leprechaun was singing in the shower," Brittany said proudly. Santana scowled.
She'd met said leprechaun the night before when she'd joined Brittany's family for dinner. He was weedy and shy, with a droopy-eyed smile that irked Santana more than she could say. Especially when it was directed at Brittany- which far too often, it was. She'd even been put off her plate of potato salad which Brittany's Mom usually made a point of serving because she knew Santana liked it. Last night however, Brittany's Mom only had eyes for Rory as he spooned some onto his plate, saying she hoped it met his potato cuisine standards.
Santana had to admit, Brittany's Mom was a little racist when it came to food and ethnicity. She was convinced Santana was an expert on all dishes Mexican, Moroccan, Indian and Italian- as though Santana's olive skin made her a hybrid of all four. Mrs Pierce meant well, but her earnestness around the dorky little Irish sprite at her dinner table had made Santana want to puke.
"He's such a good singer too," Brittany was saying. She hadn't taken any notice of Santana's disgust, too caught up in a sudden wave of inspiration. "Oh. My. Gosh. I just had the best idea I think I've ever had. You know how Rory is a good singer?"
Santana rolled her eyes.
"I believe you just established that."
"Huh? Oh, right. Well, where do all the good singers go at McKinley?" Santana took in the excited sheen in Brittany's eyes with a completely contradictory feeling rising in her stomach. Brittany didn't wait for Santana's answer.
"Glee club!" She exclaimed. "We totally have to get Rory to join. He can sprinkle us all with magic dust so we win sectionals!"
"You have that much faith in his magic powers?" Brittany still was ignoring Santana's hard tone.
"I believe that he can do magic of course! How else did he know that Dots were my favourite candy? He brought me the biggest box yesterday."
"Uh. Maybe because you eat them like all the time?" Santana snapped. "Anyone with a working pair of eyes could figure that one out."
"Maybe but. That still doesn't explain how he got out off the coo-coo clock does it?"
It took a lot, but Santana bit back her retort. If it had been anyone else she would have berated them into a snivelling mess. But as always, she never had the heart when it came to Brittany. Either that or she had too much heart.
"Rory's first day got postponed till next week but I'm going to convince him to join even before he starts," Brittany said, standing up from the bed and giving Santana's foot under the blankets a tug. "You'd better get up. I'm going to go use Mom and Dad's shower but Rory shouldn't be long."
She swept back out of the room, leaving Santana alone in her bed. All the post-sex happiness was gone from Santana's mood. She could feel thunder clouds of annoyance rolling over her and it was all she could do to contain the urge to strangle Rory when she heard the bathroom door click open and his voice fill the hall way. She recognised the words of the U2 song and would have scoffed at the irony if it wasn't for the realisation that Brittany had been right. The kids voice was high and slightly girlish- like an irish version of Justin Bieber- pre the Great Ball-Drop of '11- but it was in tune. Very in tune.
/
Mr Shue's office had the same glass panels on either side of the door like Miss Pillsbury's did. As she approached, Santana could see him through one of the panels, sitting at his desk, looking down at a stack of papers with the end of his pen in his mouth.
She raised her fist against the door and paused, her stomach all tied in knots. They hadn't spoken since he'd kicked her out of glee club, and back then his abruptness had completely thrown her- making her feel childish and pathetic. Her hesitance lasted until she remembered the sound of that stupid kid singing in Brittany's hallway and then her fist was practically assaulting the wood of Mr Shue's door.
"Come in," she heard him call.
"Santana, this is a nice surprise. Take a seat."
Santana dropped into one of the chairs in front of his desk, feeling the words she had practiced flee from her at the sight of him. Mr Shue folded his hands, smiling close-lipped and expectant.
"I want to rejoin glee club." Santana said quickly. The confidence she'd forced into her voice made it sound hollow and high. She tried to loosen the smile on her face and make it less manic as Mr Shue tilted his head to look at her. He brought his hands twisted together up to his face and put the knuckle of his index finger to his lips.
"Why?" He asked after a beat.
"Look Mr Shue, I understand the fact that you give Finn solos is because you've had to find a place to channel your weird fetish for baby giants. And I get now that your affinity with Rachel has to do with the fact that you both must attend the same support group for people with unusually large facial features." She let her eyes circle his chin. "I'm not passing any judgement I just..."
Mr Shue rolled his eyes and then slammed his clamped hands down on the top of his desk so hard that his mug of pens jumped off the table and fell to the floor. Santana flinched.
"Enough! Santana. Enough. You haven't learnt a thing have you?" He shook his head sadly. "I will not allow you to rejoin glee club if you think it's acceptable to come into my office and insult me into letting you back in."
"Mr Shue, you have clear favourites and no one else ever gets a look in!" She snapped- anger hot across her cheeks.
"Don't interrupt me again or you can get out of my office!" He pointed at the door, but his glaring eyes remained on her. "You have constantly walked all over those kids when all they have ever tried to do is include and embrace you for who you are."
"I don't need a bunch of losers singing and dancing to embrace me."
"Oh yes you do Santana," Mr Shue raised his voice over hers, his eyes slightly wild. "You do or else you wouldn't keep on coming back. And I'll give you a piece of advice," he said, leaning in closer to her face. "Every hateful, mean, rude word out of your mouth does nothing but convince everyone in glee club that those words are more to do with how little you think of yourself rather than anyone else."
Santana sat stunned, horror shooting through her as she realised that tears were rising up fast in her throat. She swallowed awkwardly and blinked down at the pens scattered on the carpet. When she trusted herself to speak again she lifted her heavy eyes and looked at Mr Shue.
"I-" she cleared her throat. "I'll work harder. If you give me another chance. I'll join booty camp and I'll practise more and I'll help organise the costumes we need and stuff."
Mr Shue sighed and rolled his eyes away. Santana realised with a rise of nausea that he was unimpressed.
"No, Mr Shue wait," she said quickly, "before you say it isn't good enough, I just mean that I know you give solos to the people who work the hardest and contribute most to the group and so I'll try harder."
Mr Shue looked back at her, his features still hard. Santana met his eyes and waited.
"You can rejoin glee club," He said finally, his voice edged with annoyance. "But you won't get a solo until you can prove to me that glee club takes precedence over Sue's attempts to pull it apart."
"How am I supposed to do that?" She snapped irritably, following him with her eyes as he stood and opened his office door for her to leave.
"Figure it out yourself Santana."
She got up and swung her bag back over her shoulder and had only taken two steps out of his office when she heard the door snap closed behind her.
/
That afternoon when Santana headed to the auditorium for her first session of booty camp, her mood had worsened even more. As it turned out, rejoining glee club meant she had give up time with Brittany instead of making sure that stupid leprechaun didn't use his voice to magic his way into her pants. But in order to prove to Mr Shue she gave a rats ass about his stupid 80's choreography she'd had to miss the meeting Brittany had called at her place to prepare the Cheerios for her 'Girl Power' flash mob.
The half constructed pieces of set for the musical had been pushed to the back of the stage and the glee club members had gathered in the clear space that was left. As Santana approached them she saw Finn catch sight of her and nudge Puck who grinned and gave her the thumbs up. Tina was the next to see her.
"Santana! Hey!" She waved.
"Wow," Santana arrived on stage and cast a look around them in their dancing gear. "You guys look like extras in one of those early morning infomercials for 'do it yourself' exercise equipment. Extras in the before scenes I mean."
"Nice to see you too," Mike said, rolling his eyes and bending to stretch. Behind him, Santana caught sight of Quinn- her hair back to blond and her face clear of the heavy make up.
"Quinn?" Santana was surprised. "Or are you still going by Ozzy Osbourne?"
Quinn shook her head, flashing her famous plastic smile which Santana modelled her own after back in middle school.
"No, I'm just...Quinn." She shrugged. "I guess I just couldn't stay away."
/
The whole school had risen to its feet and the gym walls rattled as the speakers surged music through its beams. On the gym floor, the Cheerios squad moved as one- a mass of red and whipping skirt flaps.
From the stands, Santana glanced to the row behind her to see Kurt's reaction. He had the fear of God in his eyes as he realised Brittany was a far more formidable opponent than he'd bargained for.
Satisfied by his terror, Santana trained her eyes back to the heart of the dancers where Brittany was a whirl of blond hair and curving limbs and long black boots. Santana knew she had to be careful not to get too caught up in what Brittany was doing in case she missed the cue for her solo, but it was hard. Brittany's high-waisted leather skirt revealed every inch of her thighs and her red top clung to her breasts, slipping down one shoulder.
The gym floor became more and more crowded as girls threaded their way from the stands to join the dance. Santana felt them moving past her but she kept her eyes glued to Brittany, pride purring in her chest. She waited for her musical cue and when it came, she rose, nodding to the Cheerios on either side of her. They rose as one and moved down toward the dancers.
Santana's voice, magnified by the microphone clipped to her uniform, swelled above the music to intertwine with Brittany's. The rush of exhilaration almost swept her voice away as their bodies brushed past one another on Santana's way into position.
Santana felt almost crushed by the energy of the dance as more and more people ran to join them. She was having trouble deciding which was more satisfying- the fact that the mood of the dance had spread like wild fire, infecting even the likes of Coach Sue and Rachel Berry, or that the girl in the centre of the dance- with every eye following the swing of her hips- had just the night before rolled those same hips underneath the brush of Santana's fingertips, barely able to utter a word.
The last few beats of the song were drowned out by screams and applause as three quarters of the girls in the school crowded in a circle around Brittany, crushing against one another to get closer. Santana stood amongst the nearest of them and it was all she could do not to kiss Brittany right there in front of them all. But she settled for being the first face Brittany gave her breathless smile to.
/
"Kiss me," were the first words out of Brittany's mouth as they tumbled together through the doors of the girls changing room. Santana could tell the words had come sweeping off Brittany's wave of post-dance confidence and exhilaration. Normally she would never have said them.
Santana shot a look around the empty changing room, hesitating, but Brittany impatiently placed her hands on either side of Santana's face and pulled it straight, aligning Santana's gaze with her own. Their eyes locked and the warm leather of Brittany's gloves stuck to Santana's cheeks.
"Kiss me." Brittany repeated, stepping closer until she had gently pressed Santana's back against the lockers, pinning her there with the length of her body. In her boots Brittany was even taller than usual so Santana's eyes were level with her lips.
"Britt-"
"Kiss me." Brittany's voice lost none of its force, and her gaze lost none of its intensity. Santana's heart rate climbed, beating fear and arousal in equal doses through her veins.
"I can't- We..."
The sheer force of Brittany's kiss caused her body to come crushing against Santana's, knocking it back against the lockers with a clang. Santana's shock lasted only a second and then her mouth was kissing Brittany back just as hard, her arms locking Brittany against her. Brittany deepened the kiss at Santana's response and her hands were more daring than they had ever been- one confidently seeking Santana's bare thigh under her skirt while the other swept over the curve of her breast.
"Britt-" It wasn't hesitant this time- it was urgent, pleading.
Brittany responded by groaning against Santana's lips and kissing her deeper. Their tongues came together messily in their haste to have more of one another. Brittany bent her knees and coiled her fingers under the tight fabric of Santana's spankies and then, after an agonising, fumbling moment- they were inside of her. Santana would have fallen if it wasn't for Brittany's body anchoring her against the lockers. Brittany wouldn't let her breathe, deepening her kiss with each thrust of her fingers until it was all Santana could do not to black out.
Then, in a whirl of laughter and footstep, the door of the changing room began to edge open. Fear seized Santana with such force that there was no break between the passion and the panic. She pushed with all her strength against Brittany and felt a stab of pain as Brittany's fingers were wrenched abruptly out of her. The push sent Brittany stumbling backwards, sprawling onto the floor. Santana turned abruptly away, adjusting her skirt. Less than a split second later door was open fully and Mercedes, Tina and Quinn's voices filled the small space.
"Oh, hey guys," Santana whirled to them and smiled brightly. She didn't dare look to see if Brittany had righted herself.
Quinn's gaze, sharp and calculating, played across the space between Santana and Brittany, sweeping back and forth from Brittany getting gingerly off the floor to Santana's flushed face and dishevelled ponytail. Santana could almost see her creating a mental connect-the-dots picture.
"You okay Britt?" Tina stepped towards Brittany in concern. Dimly, Santana turned her tongue over possible excuses but they all died as she caught the look Quinn and Mercedes shot one another. It seemed to last for one long, cold stretch of time. It was a look that contained a whole conversation- and a definite conclusion- the tiniest nod on Mercedes part before it disconnected.