Wow is all I can say to the amount of support that I received. Thank you guys. I must now go and tend to the social life that I have been neglecting lol. Here's the next chapter ;)
A pair of shorts and a t-shirt clung to most as the houseguests filtered out into the garden, for the Head Of Household competition.
With Finn's unexpected five to three vote, and Bryony and Kurt's sudden arrival, there was a definite feeling of uncertainty slithering in the air, almost like nothing and no one was safe anymore.
Not that they ever were...
This feeling - it was why each houseguest had told themselves that the imminent competition was a win-at-all costs situation. Such desperation was palpable.
Well, it was in most. But not all.
As Kurt took his intimidated gaze up the larger than life apparatus, he gulped, wishing that he'd taken Will's earlier advice. At this point, the effeminate man was just hoping to survive. Much less win.
"I-It looks like we're going to be hung, drawn, and q-quartered," he murmured. "And on television of all things."
Sighing, Puck rubbed the back of his neck. "Dude, I say we're gonna be out here all freakin' night."
"Yep. It's definitely some sort of endurance competition," Artie grumbled beside him. A lingering yawn suddenly pried his jaws apart. "I love a good physical comp. But it's so not the night for this," he complained, studying the twelve hanging black metal poles, which were ledged at the bottom. Fit for two small feet. "Don't Big Brother think they've put us through enough today?"
"Yeah right, " Santana scoffed. "They're not gonna stop, 'til one or more of us is homicidal, or..." She bobbed her head to the side, so casual. "Suicidal."
Sam smiled. "Well, I'm up for it. I'm up for, like, anything. I'm excited. Looks like it's gonna be fun!"
Santana shot the energetic man a look of complete and utter boredom. "No offense, Bryony, 'cause I want one of your cigars later. But, Sam, it was that same sprightly enthusiasm that landed us with the newbies. Now pipe down."
Almost like a puppy that had been kicked, Sam frowned.
Bryony chuckled and raked her dark hanging tresses to one side, looking like a sexy lingerie model once the motion was complete. "No offense taken, beautiful," she purred, to which everyone - including Santana - frowned. "But even if Sam hadn't unlocked the gym, I'm sure that Big Brother would've found some other way to toss Kurt and I in here."
It wasn't long before a grave look descended over Brittany's features. "You totally just tried to flirt with my wife. Keep your compliments to yourself."
Bending to stretch her hamstrings, Bryony laughed the blonde's accusation off. "If that was flirting, then sex is a handshake. Your wife's very beautiful. What?" She shrugged. "I'm not allowed to highlight it?"
Santana cocked an eyebrow.
"Stay away from my Sanny!"
Bryony nodded one of those slow patronizing nods. "Well I'll be sure to toss a cigar at her later. That way, there's no risk of our hands brushing." She winked Brittany's way, which Santana wasn't particularly amused by.
However, the latina kept her mouth shut. She'd bleed the Italian woman for all the cigars in China first, and then she'd strike.
"On a serious note though, Brittany, I hold a great amount of respect for marriage. I'd never pervert the sanctity of it. No! It's to be taken seriously, which is why," Bryony said, tossing Rachel a glance, "I've turned down a number of proposals in my life, isn't that right Rach?"
In response to the searing dig, Rachel merely tightened her ponytail, and readied herself for the grind that was sure to follow once the competition began.
Beside the determined brunette, however, Quinn was discovering that she just... couldn't let the hostile little remark go.
She'd narrowed unimpressed eyes at Rachel's antagonistic ex, and fought the urge to say something.
But to no avail.
"I thought we agreed that we were all adults in here, and that we're gonna act like it?" she asked, an unmistakable bite to her tone.
"Excuse me, but who are you again?" Bryony snapped, almost as though she'd been banking on the hazel-eyed blonde getting froggy. "Oh right! You're the broad who's known Rach for all of five days," she jibed, all pretense gone.
All vitriol present.
Quinn chuckled huskily, like she was a karate master who was getting ready to toy with a white belt student. "Let's... talk about periods of time then, Bryony." She cleared her throat, frowning as if to recall important historical facts, complete with dates and locations. "You must've gotten with Rachel when you were both in your teens, since she's only twenty-five. You were with her for six years - practically watched her grow into a woman. Six years, yet... you still couldn't get it right. So if two plus two equals four, then that equals: the time we've known each other's got shit all to do with anything."
Santana smirked, strangely sort of impressed.
Next to her, Will gulped. He'd never before seen this side of the usually sweet hazel-eyed blonde, who was kind enough to cook for and clean up after the entire house.
"Well that went s-south fast," Tina muttered out the corner of her mouth, sort of like a ventriloquist.
Stumped, Bryony had faltered for a moment. But, like the duration of time that Rachel and Quinn had known one another, it was fleeting. "Yeah, well you try making it work with a diva, who -"
"Oh why don't you just shut the hell up, Bryony!" Rachel suddenly yelled, stomping her foot. "Now can we all just get this freaking competition underway please? Thank you!" she huffed.
"That's a fabulous idea. Britt promised me sexy times later. So let's get this shit on the road already."
"Whoa! Dude, do I get to watch?" Puck requested.
"Eww," Kurt spewed.
"Not quite the term I would've used, Kurt. But close enough," Santana quipped.
"I can already picture the damage that I'm gonna cause if I win," Quinn purred in Bryony's direction, who shot the blonde back the most nice-nasty smile.
A gentle hand fell to Quinn's shoulder in that moment.
Rachel's hand.
Quinn wound her sharp tongue in, and peered down at the brunette.
"Please, in future just... please just ignore her," Rachel whispered, something vaguely pleading in her harrowed brown eyes.
Sensing the desperation behind the plea, the blonde blinked, bowing her head in a respectful nod a second later. "Of course."
Before anything else could be said, Bryony took it upon herself to chirp, "In other news, I'm so happy that this is an endurance comp. What better bunch of people to spend my night with?" She then succinctly deadpanned and nodded towards the podium. "Now who's gonna read the instructions?"
Emma, who was still dressed in normal attire, cleared her throat. "Since I can't take part in the competition, I'll read it," she offered, stepping up to collect the instructional card from the podium.
Quinn took the time to studiously eye the colossal apparatus, which resembled a simple yet broad steel scaffolding structure, with an impossibly thick cushioned mat splayed out beneath it.
Presumably for when houseguests began to drop like flies, she guessed...
"Okay everyone, listen up!" Emma began, peering down at the words on instructional card. "As outgoing Head Of Household, Emma will not be permitted to take part in the competition," she read, nodding because she'd already known that.
Well everybody had known it, since it was common knowledge that the last HOH couldn't compete for the Head Of Household position again the following week.
"This competition is called, 'Hanging In The Balance,'" she stated. "Each houseguest will mount one of the twelve poles, which will continuously sway up to the left and then up to the right. Houseguests are not permitted to kneel or sit down on the ledges at the bottom of the poles. You must stand at all times. If any part of your body touches the mat below, you will be eliminated from the competition. The last houseguest to remain on their pole will be crowned the new Head Of Household." Emma cleared her throat again, and added: "But don't forget to be careful, houseguests, because the weather is frightful."
Before anybody's forehead could pinch into a frown that was worthy of such a riddle, the large black metal structure sprang a leak, loudly pelting fine but plentiful jets of rain down into the mat below.
"I wanted to get my wife wet. But not like this," Santana commented. Dryly.
"So that's what the riddle was talking about," Sam noted, sort of intrigued by the raining contraption. "Come on, let's go check it out."
"You've g-gotta be k-kidding me!" Tina stammered, already feeling the chill off of the water. She hugged herself close to Rachel, clinging to her last hope of warmth. "It's so l-loud!"
Wincing every time a particularly large rain drop thudded to the mat, Rachel took both Quinn and Tina's hands, and began to approach the apparatus. "It'll be okay, guys. The rain will probably stop and start in intervals. By law, and in terms of medical safety, they can't shower us with ice water for extended periods of time."
"Thank God for that!" Quinn gasped out, already shivering as she lifted herself up onto the thick puddling mat, and claimed the pole in between Rachel and Tina.
"One of u-us three h-h-have to w-win this," Tina stuttered. Her teeth chattered as the freezing water hammered the exposed flesh of her forearms, and seeped through her shirt. "It's the only way to know t-that we'll all be s-safe."
Quinn slung her dripping fringe to the side, just barely managing to get out, "I know. Or at the l-least, we've all got to outlast Bryony."
Seemingly lost in her tunnel of focus, Rachel didn't say a thing...
Still stood on the artificial grass, Jacob shrugged at the wet scene. "I needed to wash my afro anyway." He looked to Bryony, who - just like the rest of the women in the house - he assumed would never talk to him on the outside world. "You ready for this?" he asked her.
"As Rachel knows!" Bryony said over the loud patter. "I'm always up for getting wet."
With that said, she grinned, and jogged off to claim a pole.
The pole next to Rachel's, actually.
Jacob smirked and crossed his fingers. It was clear to him that Bryony was still holding a torch for Rachel, regardless of how bright or dim its light flickered. Every one of her bitter quips - they'd all been ploys to get Rachel's attention. The nerdy little man could only hope that if - for whatever reason - The Gruesome Foursome couldn't pull out a win between one another, Bryony would. That way he wouldn't be at such a risk of going up on the block if Tina blabbed about his play to evict Emma.
Because all that Bryony seemed to care about was punishing Rachel and Quinn, which was more than fine by Jacob if it meant surviving another week…
"Come on everyone," Will encouraged, motioning for the houseguests who were lingering around to enter the rain, and mount a pole. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get to our warm beds."
Twenty minutes later, the competition was in full... swing.
Save the steady mechanical swooshing of the poles, from left to right, a pin could be heard if dropped.
Quinn sighed, reaffirming her two-handed grip around her dripping pole as it repeatedly tilted her entire frame at a forty-five degree angle. From side to side.
She could only imagine how easy the task at hand must've looked to those who were watching live footage of the house online. But it was anything but easy. Her arms were beginning to ache from the manner with which they were hoisted, and there was a numbness growing in her fingertips from how cold the last bout of rain had been. Which, of course, made it damn near impossible for her to clutch the pole tightly as it slanted body.
"Whoever dreamed this competition up needs therapy," she murmured miserably.
Rachel managed a small smile, because grumpy soaked-through Quinn was so adorable that she didn't know what to do with herself.
One of the other houseguests said something, but the brunette hadn't been listening. She was lost in watching the grumpy blonde carefully reposition her sneakers on her pole's slippery cylindrical ledges - almost forgetting about the fact that she was now living with her ex again.
Almost forgetting.
She could feel Bryony's eyes on her.
"How are you doing over there, Tina?" Rachel called past Quinn.
"F-Fine. J-Just a little numb. But I'm g-good."
In the process of winking at the shivering Asian woman, Rachel caught Quinn's eye.
"You okay?" the blonde mouthed.
"Yes. You?" the shorter woman mouthed back.
Indicative of how cold she was, Quinn gave a stiff nod. "Only because I need to be," she answered, her words graduating to a whisper. "I'd really like a letter from Beth, and some pictures. I miss her like crazy. So that's my main incentive to win this, and keeping us three," she said, nodding towards Tina, "safe."
"It's a good thing that my motion sickness hasn't decided to act up," Bryony suddenly announced, glancing up at her swaying pole. "Remember that drive up to that cabin resort during the last few breaths of our relationship, Rachel? I got motion sickness in the car and threw up. You were so attentive... at least until we got to the cabin, and they had to kick us out of our room because -"
"That's enough!" Rachel barked, her sneakers squeaking against the wet ledges as she almost lost her footing from the ferocity of her growl. "If this wasn't being broadcast to the world, I'd be inclined to simply tune you out. But it is being broadcast to the world, and I'm not going to have you airing the details of our awful relationship, only to be rejected from future Broadway roles because casting directors think they know things about me that they shouldn't!"
"Because," Bryony said, picking right back up where she'd left off, "you flew off the handle and attacked me. Remember? I do. I remember that black eye and busted lip. My work colleagues were asking about it for days."
Most of the houseguests kept quiet, just wanting to stay out of the ugliness that was happening right before their eyes.
Except for Quinn, that is, who was biting her tongue so hard, she was tasting blood!
Out of nowhere, the patio door slid open.
Emma merrily poked her head out. "Just checking to see if anybody's fallen off yet. Guess not," she chirped, oblivious to what she'd just interrupted. "I'm baking some late night cookies to celebrate my still being here, so you have those to look forward to. Those of you that aren't on slop anyway."
"Thank you. We all can't wait," Will took it upon himself to answer. Because no one else had seemed like they were going to.
"Well I'll leave you all too it then."
As soon as the redhead retreated back into the house and slid the door shut, Rachel pounced.
"How convenient that you neglect to mention how high you were, and that that's why you emptied your stomach in my new car! How very convenient that in your haste to paint me as a violent monster, you neglect to mention that in your inebriated state, you struck me first and I was forced to defend myself!"
"Well, you know what they say 'bout that hot Italian blood," Santana jeered to herself, deciding that it was time to step in. "Rachel! Bryony!" she raised her voice. "If I'd wanted to see a couple of dysfunctional lesbos, I'd watch Jerry Springer. Now I'm tryna keep a clear focused mind, 'cause apparently that helps with this competition shit. That means I don't wanna hear any more of your bullshit! So Bryony, kindly shut the fuck up before I force you to defend yourself."
"Go San!" Brittany cheered, happily swaying on her pole. "Did I mention that that's my wife?" she bragged.
Though she never thought she would, Quinn smiled. Go San indeed…
Bryony had just been about to say something back to the latina, when a frosty gust blustered out of the small holes in the scaffolding's frame, wafting over everyone like a tornado.
"What did I do to deserve this?" Kurt whined, the overwhelming gust blowing his lips to one side.
Puck rubbed the tip of his crimson nose, and sniffled. He was certain that he was catching a cold.
"It's, l-like… really really cold up here dude," Sam stuttered.
Jacob shivered, his knees trembling into one another. "J-Just keep holding o-on, Sam."
"I-I don't know if I can do this for m-much longer, guys," Artie confessed, out of the blue.
Jacob's gaze shot towards the wilting young man. "C-Come on, Artie. Y-You were telling me about h-how you thought you'd never walk again, a-after that accident. Use y-your legs proudly, and hang on!"
Artie groaned hopelessly.
"You w-were in an accident?" Tina inquired.
When she received but a groan in response, Will looked her way and suggested, "I'd maybe a-ask him about it once this competition is over, T-Tina."
She nodded, and hung on through her numb grip.
An hour and a half had passed before Artie became the first houseguest to release his pole. He'd thudded down into the mat with a weighty clunk that had jaunted the other houseguests, who'd all previously been lulled into an almost zombie-like state, thanks to the fact that they could barely feel their limbs.
To the tune of their placating praises regarding his noble efforts, he'd lazed there on the mat, just waiting for his arms and legs to decide that they were going to work again, before scurrying off to have a scalding hot shower.
And now he was sat on one of the garden's benches, offering words of encouragement to the remaining houseguests, as he nursed a hot cup of cocoa between his palms. "You guys are true warriors," he said, wincing as another bout of rain started up.
Only this time, it wasn't rain that fell. It was these moderately sized foam cubes, with sharp enough corners to make Kurt snap his head to the side, in order to avoid being poked in the eye.
Quinn's strategy was different though. She was keeping her head bowed, to prevent the cubes from doing any damage to her face.
Bryony noticed the blonde's strategy and mimicked it, because fuck if she was going to drop before Quinn did. "Looking a little worse for wear there, Rach," she taunted.
Rachel slowly lifted her head up from where it had been hanging in a similar fashion to Quinn's. She looked at the woman who she'd wasted six years with, and scoffed. "You might as well just jump now, because you and I both know me well enough to know that Barbra Streisand herself couldn't get me to come down from here."
"Even if she flashed me her breasts, Barbra Streisand couldn't get me to come down from here either," Quinn mused, in this comedically casual kind of way. She brought her shoulder up to her cheek to fend off a few cubes, and said, "It's me, Tina, Rachel, Santana, and Brittany against you, Bryony. And I'm pretty sure we'd be able to get Sam to put you up on the block if he were to win too. So if you think you can outlast all of us, then you just stay exactly where you are."
A beautiful victorious silence played out between the three women, wherein Rachel looked to the blonde and mouthed, "you're amazing."
"Duh," Quinn mouthed back, winking as she swayed. "And here was me thinking that you were supposed to be the brains, and that I was supposed to be the blonde."
In that moment, Puck suddenly exploded with a sneeze. Not that anybody batted an eyelid, since the houseguests had sort of gotten used to it by now.
What was surprising, however, was the hard thud that immediately followed.
"Puck! No!" Jacob wailed out, before he could stop himself.
Santana studiously glanced between the two men, smirking as the identity of two possible Gruesome Foursome members made itself clear to her. "Hmmm. Interesting," she hummed to herself.
Down below, Puck angrily thumped the mat with his fist, small particles of water splashing up at him as a result. "Dude, I can't fuckin' believe that a sneeze was the end of Puckzilla!"
"Nice t-try though, Puck," Tina offered.
"Yeah, you lasted for a respectable amount of time," Will put in, managing a smile through his pained grimace.
"Look on the bright side; now you can go and take a nice hot shower," Artie pointed out around a sip of cocoa.
"Yeah yeah," Puck grumbled.
He didn't want a nice hot shower. He wanted to know that he was safe this week, especially with his vote to evict Emma looming over his head. And now the only person who could ensure that safety had been eliminated.
Himself.
He shook out his limbs and crawled down off of the sodden mat. "Good luck guys," he mumbled up at the remaining houseguests, before heading off into the house to get cleaned up.
Jacob's shoulders slumped. The Gruesome Foursome were now two members down. He glanced across at Sam.
It was just the two of them now…
It was almost as though now that two people had fallen, it was acceptable for others to do so too.
Around the three hour mark, both Kurt and Will fell from their poles. Kurt citing that the iced over ledges had tossed him off. Will claiming that his arms and legs were dead.
Not too long after their demise, Tina gave out, much to Rachel and Quinn's discouragement.
"I'm s-sorry guys. I-I just couldn't h-hold on any longer," she explained, unable to look at her two allies.
"Don't apologize. This is tough," Rachel replied, grimacing as she grabbed her swaying pole even tighter and carefully adjusted her stance.
"Well that's one of your clan down," Bryony chuckled. "I feel like I could do this all night. I'm good to go into the early hours of the morning, if need be," she boasted, taping her fingernails against her pole.
Rachel and Quinn glanced at one another, both swallowing slowly. They'd already been at it for three long tedious hours, and the muscles in their legs were fatigued beyond anything that they'd ever experienced before.
Neither knew how much longer they could go on for. They just knew that they wouldn't be able to last until the early hours of the morning.
"She's got to be bluffing," Rachel mouthed.
"Let's hope so," Quinn whispered.
A moment later, Jacob fell. His glasses flew off of his face with the impact with which he slammed into the mat. "Just great!" he bitterly hissed, knowing that his only hope now lay with Sam and Bryony.
The worn out blonde surfer sighed. "Good job though, dude," he said.
"Alright, so let's make some sort of deal," Santana suggested, now that Jacob had been eliminated. "I'm tired, I'm grouchy, and if I don't get down from here, I'm gonna puke. So guys," she said, looking to the remaining houseguests, "I wanna know that me and Britt are safe if we jump down."
Rachel and Quinn nodded. Albeit stiltedly.
Though Quinn was the one to speak up: "Of course. I think we all know who my target's gonna be if I win. But you should hold on for just a while longer?" she said, sending a pointed nod in Bryony's direction.
The exhausted latina rolled her eyes. "I could've sworn that I just said I was gonna puke, if I didn't get down from here, doll face."
The hazel-eyed blonde sighed, but nodded. "Okay. You're safe from me if you both jump."
"That goes for me too," Rachel reluctantly agreed. "Though I'd prefer it if you were to hold on for a while longer. But if you can't…" She shrugged grimly.
Brittany smiled. "Thanks. But how about you Sam? If you win, are you gonna put us up?"
The only remaining man slowly shook his head. "Dude, I don't know. I, like, have nothing against you. But things can change like that in here."
Santana took on a pensive look, and then suggested, "how about if either me or Britt win HOH next week, or the week after that, we won't put you up for two of our HOH runs each? So that's potentially four weeks safety."
Bryony rolled her eyes. "All of this just to get me out of the house? And there was me thinking that I was one of those people who went through life making friends easily."
Santana yawned, ignoring the Italian woman. "Sam, what do you say? We got a deal or not?"
In a moment of sheer tension, all eyes gravitated towards the muscular man, who nodded after a moment or two.
"Deal," he said.
"Finally," the latina purred, taking Brittany's hand as they both released their poles and fell to their freedom.
Though the thud had been expected, it still sent a flinch ricocheting though Bryony, who was – despite her tall tales – beginning to lose faith in her ability to hold on. She glanced to her side, surveying both Rachel and Quinn's body language.
They seemed just as worn out as she did. So she held on, wincing when another bout of rain broke free over them.
Five hours into the competition. Sam wasn't sure that he'd ever be the same again. His blood vessels had constricted to maximum capacity, and the numbness was now creeping up his forearms.
Without a word, he released his pole, and heaped to the mat.
Quinn, Bryony, and Rachel all hitched out a gasp as they peered down at the fallen man.
Then looked at each other.
"Guess this is it then," Bryony remarked, spitting a few droplets of water from her lips. "Rach, you a-always did have a flare for all things dramatic. I bet you're loving t-this. But!" she stressed, "it's not as dramatic a tale as y-you think, because I was never gonna p-put you or Quinn up on the block. I told you I was here for t-the money."
"Like I'm s-stupid enough to b-believe that," Rachel stammered, feeling like she was Rose in Titanic at this point.
Bryony sighed, staying quiet, save her trembling exhalations of breath.
"Getting d-desperate, Bryony?" Quinn mocked.
"I don't do d-desperate, honey. Though R-Rachel clearly does."
"I'll s-say," the blonde shot back, looking her adversary up and down pointedly.
"P-Please ignore her, Quinn. Save your energy."
The shivering blonde managed to scrape together a smile, and shoot it at the quivering brunette. "See? That's why you're t-the brains and I'm the blonde," she murmured fondly.
Bryony sighed again, this time much heavier. The burn in her muscles was almost as colossal as the apparatus that she was strung up on.
Through the patio door's glass panel, she could see the houseguests who were still awake puttering around inside of the house. The way that the light shined – how dry it looked. How homely. Bryony had never yearned for such simple comforts in her life...
"I just want you t-two to know that there's still the Veto competition, a-and that if you p-put me up on the block, I'm g-going to veto myself off of the block," she spat, before soaring down into the mat.
Of all the thuds, Rachel felt that that one had rang the most satisfying.
The exhausted yet elated brunette didn't even think twice about it. She just released her pole and allowed gravity to do its work, landing beside her disgruntled ex-girlfriend.
Leaning up on one elbow, she smirked up at Quinn. "Congrats on being the new Head Of Household!" she announced. "Now you'll g-get to read your letter from home to me. I-I can't wait." She winked up at the speechless blinking blonde, and chuckled as the woman beside her scowled.
;)