Update before I go away for New Years. Woo the comments have been so lovely! Please, please keep them coming coz they make my day!

Thought I'd include a bit of Puck/Santana in here because I actually ship their friendship big time! Also I had so much fun with Sugar- let me know if you think I did okay with her. It's hard balancing her and Britt's craziness in the same scene!

Hope you guys like it! Will be back with Ch 8 dealing with Ep 5- The First Time- in the new year.

Ch 8: Three Wishes

"Come here. No, closer….Closer….closer…"

"I can't!" Brittany exclaimed. Her face was pushed so hard up against Santana's that her features were a blur and their noses were squashed together.

"But it's not close enough!"

Santana tugged at her until Brittany sighed and wiggled her arms between Santana's mattress and her back, rolling completely on top of her. Santana took Britt's weight, not minding the pressure on her lungs.

"I approve of this new clean room," Brittany lifted her head to look around.

"Yep, well it was time I sorted my shit out." Santana leaned her chin against Britt's shoulder.

They'd gotten home from Breadstix an hour ago but they'd only just escaped a conversation with Santana's parents the intricacies of the modern financial crisis in America- which amazingly, Britt had initiated.

"Where the hell did you learn all of that stuff?" Santana asked as they climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

Brittany had shrugged. "My uncles an Economics professor. He lets me read his academic journals when he visits."

Britt pressed her face back against Santana's. "Well your shit looks very sorted to me!" Santana drifted her hands up Brittany's back, lingering over the sides of her ribs, debating whether to tickle her.

"Tonight's dinner helped sort a lot of stuff too," she admitted, deciding against the tickling and curving her hands down Brittany's lower back instead.

Brittany shifted her hips at the touch. "Mmm? Like what?"

"Like, um, us…." Santana tried to look at Brittany's eyes, but their faces were too close to discern any clear facial expression. "Right?"

"Hmmm, like how we're dating?"

"Yes," she nodded in approval. "We're...dating. You get what that means right?"

"Well…"

"Hold on, get off." Santana pushed Brittany sideways so that they were both on the bed facing one another. Santana pulled back so she could read Brittany's face, not wanting to miss a single syllable of subtext in her expression. "That's better. So... do you?"

Brittany took a breath. "Yes," she exhaled, nodding once. Her face was pinched in concentration and Santana wanted to kiss her for taking it so seriously.

"What does it mean to you?"

Brittany paused, her eyes unfocused, thinking. Santana watched her face, almost wanting to cover her mouth so that she wouldn't have to hear the answer.

Brittany licked her lips and then said, "it means that neither of us are single?"

Santana, her heart humming, nodded, still not daring to look away from Brittany's face.

"Aaannd…." Brittany's eyes shot sideways, gathering her other meanings. "It means that we give each other stuff on valentines day."

Santana grinned. "That's ages away!"

"So?" Brittany was more confident now. "And it means that we can hold hands under napkins and I can change your name in my phone to My Lover with one of those myspace hearts." She drew one in the air between their faces. Santana burst out laughing.

"My Lover?" She spluttered.

Brittany frowned. "Don't laugh!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Santana pressed her lips together and held up her hand apologetically, but the laughter burst in a snort from her nose. Brittany pouted, watching Santana roll over on the bed, clutching her stomach. "Okay, fine. Is 'My Girlfriend' okay? Or is that somehow hilarious too?"

Santana stopped laughing abruptly at these words. She stilled and turned back to Brittany.

"That could work," she managed hoarsely.

Brittany was still thinking, chewing gently on her tongue. "It also means…" she said finally, reaching out and tracing a finger down Santana's nose, "that neither of us can do stuff with anyone else."

These words surprised Santana more than Britt's economic expertise ever could.

"Really?" She asked, before she could stop herself.

Brittany frowned again, her cheeks flushing pink. "Do you want to do stuff with other people?"

"No! No, no. No." Santana shook her head emphatically.

Brittany's smile was slow and drowsy with contentment. It was infectious and they lay there, grinning like idiots into one another's faces.

"I'm glad you get it," Santana said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off Brittany's face.

"Of course I get it. I know now that cheating is cheating no matter whether you have a pipe or a hose."

Santana laughed. "I'm glad. I was scared I'd confused you."

"You do confuse me. But I have the lyrics to Songbird bookmarked on my laptop for those times."

That was too much. Santana leant over and pressed her lips against Brittany's.

"I'm sorry," She muttered as she pulled back. Brittany hooked her hands around the back of Santana's head, not letting her move too far away.

"It's okay. Hey, I just thought of another thing that us dating means."

"Mmm?"

"It means," Brittany guided Santana's face closer until their lips were brushing against one another. "That I'm allowed to kiss you first."

/

The next afternoon Santana walked through the hallway of McKinley with a renewed sense of purpose. She felt her Queen Bitch self resurging stronger with each step she took. Since the Muckraker article she'd curbed her habit of berating random students in these halls just in case they brought it up. But now Santana felt like all the mud-flinging and gossip in the world couldn't even dirty the sole of her shoe, let alone stop her from doing what she did best.

She had Brittany. She held that knowledge on the underside of her tongue as she snapped insults at a couple of freshmen and ran a hand along the notice board to rip a campaign poster of Kurt's down.

Everything seemed to be falling into place. Sure, Santana was still buried way back in the closet where people usually hid their fetish porn and illegal exotic pets, but all the other things she'd been worried about had righted themselves once she and Britt had made things official. The musical was back on and Santana had put Berry and Bow-Tie thoroughly in their places at glee club that afternoon, no longer giving a shit about Butt-Chin's reaction.

As long as Britt went with her, she would gladly join the all girl glee club with Mercedes. And with the help of her Queen Bitch frame of mind, Santana had come up with a plan to make it happen.

On the way to her destination Santana passed Berry standing beside her locker with Tina and Artie. On impulse, she veered towards them.

"Aw, how sweet. Glee club hang times." She twinkled her fingers in jazz hands.

"Have you quit the New Directions?" Rachel asked, turning intensely to face her. Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to stay and listen to you and Blaine MMM'bop your way to last place at sectionals? The judges are conservative Berry, they won't like to see cross species duets."

"You are just so unbelievably rude. Every time," Tina said in disbelief, shaking her head.

"Sorry, what?" Santana cocked her ear closer to Tina. "I don't speak Awkward-Asian-Goth."

"I think this is going a bit far," Artie wheeled himself in between Tina and Santana. Santana opened her mouth to retort but out of the corner of her eye she saw what she'd been looking for. A figure dressed all in green had approached a locker down the hall and was twisting the combination of his lock. Santana flipped her pony tail straight and smirked around at Rachel, Tina and Artie.

"Wish I could stay and continue this delightful conversation but I've got dreams to crush that are shockingly more pathetic than yours." She turned on her heel and headed for Rory, her pre-soul destroying smirk playing on her face.

She'd gotten the courage to ask Brittany on their way to school that morning what she'd meant by her pot of gold. Brittany had been jamming in the passenger seat to Bruno Mars when it suddenly occurred to Santana that she'd never found out what it was. She reached over and turned the music down so that Brittany's voice sounded by itself for a few beats before she stopped singing and pouted at Santana.

"Hey, I was grooving to that," she pointed out.

"Yeah I know but, Britt, what's your pot of gold?"

"Huh?"

"You know. Your pot of gold- the thing your leprechaun is going to get when he grants you your three wishes. Coz you know," Santana took her eyes off the road to glance quickly at Brittany. "If it is what I think it is then you...you can't give it to him if we're dating."

"Uh, why not?" Brittany's voice sounded disgruntled.

Santana glanced at her again, frowning. "Um. Because, that would be cheating," she snapped.

"No it wouldn't."

Santana sighed, raking a hand through her hair in frustration. She knew that this would come to bite her in the ass, she knew boundaries would always be difficult to define with Brittany after all Santana had taught her. She tried to keep patience in her voice. "Britt, anyone other than me having access to your pot of gold," She gestured vaguely in the direction of Brittany's lap, "is what society considers the standard definition of cheating."

Brittany looked down at her lap, where Santana had gestured, frowning. "I don't have it with me at the moment. I keep it on the top shelf of may wardrobe so that Lord Tubbington can't get to it."

"Oh," Santana managed, a flash flood of relief running through her. "So it's not ...I thought it was your…you know…" She gestured again at Brittany's lap.

"My…" Brittany looked down again, her lower lip stuck out in confusion. It took a beat and then her face cleared with understanding.

"Ohahaha," She laughed breathily. Santana glanced over at her and saw a mischievous smile playing across her lips. She reached over and took one of Santana's hands off the steering wheel and brought it across so that it rested on her thigh underneath the flaps of her Cheerios skirt.

Santana raised her eyebrows at the road, her breath catching in her throat.

"You meant this…" Britt guided her hand further up her leg until Santana could feel the heat of her coming from underneath her spankies.

"You're silly, San," Brittany breathed. "This isn't my pot of gold. My pot of gold is a flowerpot filled with chocolate coins that I got from my Nana for Easter. Silly," she said again softly.

"I feel much better knowing that," Santana said, stiffening as she stretched her fingers out and felt the warm, damp material of Britt's spankies. Brittany's grip tightened around Santana's wrist and it became harder and harder to concentrate on driving as Brittany's jagged breathing filled the car's interior.

Santana arrived at Rory's locker and stood on the other side of the open door, waiting for him to close it. She knew she had all the power now. She knew about his pathetic attempts to get into Brittany, and she knew that he was sadly mistaken. She couldn't wait to see his face when he completed his three wishes and was given a flowerpot full of chocolate.

She certainly wasn't going to spoil his surprise, no, that would be too easy. She was going to make him pay for messing with Brittany's head. She was going to make him pay for thinking Britt would look twice at him while she was Santana's. She was going to beat him at his own game, and get some of her own wishes granted in the process. Santana was going to make him wish he'd never slimed his way out of that god-damn coo-coo clock.

/

"This is going to be so, so great." Mercedes said in between bites of the dip lathered chip she had balanced between her fingers. She, Brittany, and Santana were sitting on Brittany's bed for the first official out of school get together of the Troubletones. Santana even liked the way that the name sounded in her mouth, far better than New Directions which was like the name of some washed up 90's boy band with blond tips and huge Adam's apples. A.K.A- Mr Schue's wet dream.

The weird girl who had started the group, Sugar, was walking slowly around Brittany's room, her nose in the air, inspecting the pictures on Britt's walls. She stood on her tip toes, leaning towards the prom photo of Brittany and Artie.

"This boy," She tapped the photo and then turned her eyes to Brittany. "Is this retarded guy your boyfriend?"

She reminded Santana of those Siamese-cats with their long faces and slightly dull, crossed eyes. Santana could almost picture Sugar singing that song from Lady and the Tramp that those creepy cats sung. It had freaked her out when she was little and the thought of it now, with Sugar's eyes boring into Brittany's, made Santana shift uncomfortably.

"No he's not my boyfriend anymore. He used to be though, last year."

"But you broke up because you're lesbian right?" Santana froze, her face on fire. Brittany was sitting slightly in front of her on the bed so Santana couldn't see her reaction, but she noticed the tips of her ears turn pink.

"I broke up with him because he called me stupid," Brittany dead panned. Sugar tilted her head to the side. "That's not what Mercedes told me. Huh." She spun back around to face the wall. Brittany and Santana both turned to stare at Mercedes who looked like she'd just been slapped, her mouth still full of chip and dip.

"I-I-" She hurried to swallow. "I just said…"

"It doesn't matter anyway," Sugar interrupted, sauntering over and perching on the end of Brittany's bed. "So long as you don't try to feel me up or anything. I know, I know," she held up a hand when Brittany made a noise of protest. "I'm such a hot bitch that it's going to be hard."

"Sugar," Mercedes placed a hand on her arm, widening her eyes and shaking her head. Santana was frozen, still struggling silently to recover from what had just happened. Brittany stuck her finger in the dip bowl and licked the glob off the end of her finger.

"Asperger's." Sugar said, shrugging apologetically at them.

"Well guys," Mercedes clapped her hands, with manic air of a person trying desperately to remove any trace of the previous conversation. "We still haven't decided what song is going to be our first ever performance. So we narrowed it down to…"

"Candy Man," Santana recalled.

"and Roxanne," Brittany added.

"And Obsessed by Mariah Carey," Sugar finished. "With yours truly on lead vocals." She giggled happily around at them.

"I like that idea," Brittany nodded, going in for the dip again with her finger.

"No-no, honey. No," Santana shook her head. "I'm for Candy Man. Think of the awesome 40's costumes we could get."

Mercedes cocked her head, chewing thoughtfully. "It's definitely sexy," She mused.

"Well it ought to be seeing as all the sexy left the New Directions with Britt and I," Santana added.

"We could totally show them what they're missing with that song," Mercedes nodded. Brittany bounced off her bed and approached the speakers on her desk. She turned on Santana's iPod which was sitting in the dock and scrolled through until she found what she wanted and hit the middle button. The opening bars of Candy Man filled the room and Britt spun around, already swaying to the beat. She kicked her feet up to the rhythm and bounced towards the bed, a wide performers grin on her face. Mercedes picked up the opening run and began singing the first verse as Brittany swayed towards them, reaching a hand out for Sugar to join her. Santana's face split into a grin as Brittany winked at her and twirled so that her Cheerio's skirt flapped up to her waist, twirling Sugars hand in her own so she moved along with her. Santana began to sing along with Mercedes, marvelling as always at the compatibility in their voices.

When the song ended Sugar and Brittany bounced breathlessly back onto Brittany's bed. Brittany tilted her head around to look at Santana and raised her eye brows.

"You like the dance?" Her voice was coy. Santana felt her face heating again and she nodded.

"That was dope ya'll," Mercedes said, loading another chip with dip.

"Totes," Sugar grinned around at them, her crossed eyes bright with excitement.

"I think we have our song," Santana nodded, reaching out absentmindedly to straighten Brittany's pony tail.

/

Im comng ovr.

Santana blinked repeatedly into the bright light of her phone screen to clear the haze from her eyes. Giving up, she turned her head to look at her glowing bedside clock whose light was less harsh. It read 12.41 a.m. She rolled her eyes and hit the call button on her phone, stretching as she waited for it to connect.

He picked up on the second ring.

"What the hell Puck? I was sleeping."

"Well I'm already on my way to yours so get up." Santana could hear the rumble of his pick up's motor in the back ground. She propped herself up on one elbow.

"Why the hell are you coming over? Believe me when I say I am not putting out."

Puck snorted down the phone. "Believe me, that I know. I'm nearly there. I'll just come up."

"What th-" Santana frowned at her phone as Puck disconnected. With a frustrated sigh she shuffled off her bed, her limbs lethargic with sleep. She fumbled on some sweats and flicked on her bedside lamp. She'd gone to bed with her hair wet from her shower and now it fluffed up around her face like a dark cloud. She pulled it back into a messy bun and sat back on her bed, still blinking to scatter the heavy sleepy feeling in her eyes. She heard a distant rumble and chink as someone cut an engine at the end of her drive.

A few minutes later Puck was edging through her door and padding over to flop on her bed. She turned to glare at him.

"I'm not impressed."

He shrugged and fitted his hands under his head. "I needed to talk to someone. "

"Uh. Okay…." Santana stared at him through the dim light, wondering if she was caught up in some weird dream and Sugar was about to slink from between her curtains singing "I am Siamese if you please…"

Puck lay quiet for a moment, his eyes on the ceiling. Then he pulled a palm down his face so his features became elongated and sighed.

"Jesus Christ Jew-Boy, just spit it out." She slapped his thigh. "You didn't get someone else pregnant did you?"

"Worse," Puck groaned. Santana raised her eyebrows at his lap.

"It didn't...you know...stop working...did it?"

"What? Oh! God no. No, no."

"Well could you freaking hurry up? Because this already took up too much of my time when I had to read your text...Oh..." Santana had remembered Quinn. "Jesus don't tell me you're in on the whole adoption-sabotage thing as well?"

Puck propped himself up in surprise. "You know about that? How did you-" Santana shrugged.

"I know everything."

"Right," Puck deflated back onto Santana's pillows. "Well, no. I went around and took away all the stuff Quinn planted at Shelby's house yesterday evening. That's why I'm here now. Something happened while I was there and I can't stop freaking thinking about it."

"Did you realise that your baby was technically Rachel's adopted little sister and it made your world come crashing down around you? Because," Santana patted his arm sympathetically. "I could see how that would be rough."

Puck was frowning at her ceiling. "Nope. Worse. I kissed Rachel's Mom."

"You...ohahahah…" Santana put her hand on her chest, laughing in disbelief. "You kissed Shelby?" She chuckled a little more but it died as she caught the mortified look on Puck's face.

Aw, come on. You've kissed plenty of Moms. It's nothing new. This has to be your first mother-daughter combo though yeah?"

After a beat a slow, smug smile drifted across Puck's features.

"It's my fifth," He corrected. Santana grinned, holding her hand up and high-fiving him.

After a moment, Puck's smile faltered again."It's pretty frigging messed up though isn't it?"

Santana shrugged. "No worse than anything that crazy baby-momma of yours probably did."

"Bu-"

"Listen, you came to the wrong person if you want a lesson in morality. The only morality I adhere to is never eat the salsa off another man's plate. I was raised to believe morality meant listening to the man upstairs who never actually speaks so it doesn't hold that much weight with me. I'm all for people messing up their lives. It's the only comedy that really suits my taste in humour." When Puck raised an eyebrow at her she shrugged, "British comedy is too winey."

"So...you think I should just forget about it?"

"There's no point flipping your lid over a stupid kiss. Just blame the weird affect that seeing the baby had on your ovaries and move on. Or, hell, do it again for all I care. It would be funny to see Rachel crap herself when she finds out."

"Yeah…" Puck nodded at her slowly, his eyes as unfocused as Quinn's had been in the car the other day. "Life's too short to not take chances on the people who make you feel alright."

"Well, within reason. Our school does not need another bout of Chlamydia thanks to you Puckerman."

"Shut your blow-hole Santana." He shoved her playfully and sat up. "Alright, I'll leave you to your much needed beauty sleep." He vaulted off the bed and ruffled her hair. Santana stood up as well, shushing him.

"Get out of here before you stink my room out." She shoved him towards the door.

"Alright alright," He held his hands up then pointed with one of them back to her bed. "You're getting a text."

Santana turned. On her bed, her phone was lit up and vibrating amongst her blankets. Santana frowned and walked over to pick it up.

"Booty call?" Puck asked behind her.

Santana blinked down at the screen and saw the message ribbon carrying Brittany's name. She clicked 'open' hurriedly.

I can't sleep. Can you? I think it should be part of your girlfriendly duties to come keep me company. Lord T is ignoring his curfew again.

Santana's face split into a grin. From the door Puck laughed smugly.

"Booty call," he repeated definitively. "Bye Santana, have fun!"

"Screw you!" She whispered after him as he eased her door closed. Still grinning at her phone Santana moved around her room, gathering clothes and books for school the next day with one hand and typing a reply with the other.