As soon as Brittany leaves, Quinn stares at Santana with a mischievous smirk. It's meddling time. "So San, what happened before I walked in?"
"Nothing. We were just talking." Santana glares.
Although Quinn wants to say that she's never seen Santana with such an adorable, bashful smile on her face, she decides to go with a different approach. "Okay. I believe you."
"Quinn, you just—wait, what?"
"Still, I think you need to step up your game."
"What do you mean?"
"Y'know, kick it up a notch with your fake relationship. Obviously Puck doesn't mind kissing other girls. Maybe he'll kiss the right one and forget all about you."
"Yeah, right," Santana murmurs uncertainly.
Quinn knows she has her. "You and Britt barely kiss in public, and when you do, it's lame and sweet. You need to be hot."
"Okay, we both know I'm really fucking hot," Santana says with a smirk, secretly hoping her arrogance will throw Quinn off-track.
"No, I mean you and Britt. Puck got your attention by getting hot and heavy publicly, right? Now you need to do the same."
Santana's stomach and jaw drop at the same time. It takes her a few seconds to understand Quinn's words. "You expect me to do that with Brittany?"
Trying to hold back a smile, Quinn knows she has Santana right where she wants her. "Well, why not? You want a rise out of Puck, right? This is how you do it. It's fake, anyways."
"Who cares? I'm not making out with Brittany!"
"Why not? Just put on a show, like you've been doing."
Santana looks at her incredulously. "No."
"Just think about it, San. You know it makes perfect sense."
Shaking her head, Santana grabs her bag. "Whatever, Q. I gotta go."
"Alright, but seriously, S. Just think about it."
As soon as the door slams, the blonde smiles. Her best friend is like putty in her hands.
"Berry? Hello?" Puck calls out, walking into the girl's unlocked house.
"Noah!" Rachel appears, seemingly out of nowhere. "Don't you knock? I thought you were a burglar! You're lucky I didn't hit you with my bat."
Looking down at her hands, Puck notices that she is indeed wielding a t-ball bat, covered in gold stars, with her name carved in cursive on the side. "Sorry, the door was unlocked."
"Yes, I keep it unlocked so that if a burglar or murderer or rapist or felon breaks in, I can knock them out and bring them to justice before they hurt anyone else."
Puck, who tuned her out right after "I," simply looks at her, confused.
She sighs. "What are you doing here, Noah?"
"Oh, I came to tell you that your plan worked! Santana looked totally jealous."
"See? I told you I'm the master at relationships!"
"Riight," Puck drawls, running his hand through his mohawk.
At Rachel's house, Puck is supposed to be helping with their project but keeps snapping at the brunette. Sick of his attitude, Rachel finally asks what's wrong, and he proceeds to dump all his Santana problems into her lap. "I thought she liked me! At least a little. And then she tells me that she was just using me for popularity? That's fucked up!"
"Noah, I would appreciate if you didn't use that language in my house."
"But seriously, isn't that so low? And then she goes and cheats on me with a girl? What the hell? She's never shown any interest in any girl ever."
"Doesn't she hang out with Quinn Fabray a lot?"
Puck never thought about that before, but he has to admit that they are super close. Plus, Quinn is pretty hot for a nerd, and Santana was always ditching him to hang out with her.
"See, there you go!" Rachel says, seeing the look on his face.
"I just want her back," he admits.
Despite him having slushied her on more than one occasion, Rachel actually feels sorry for him. Plus, Puck is one of the most popular guys in school. Maybe she can use this to her advantage. "Perhaps I can help," she suggests.
"How could you possibly help me?"
"I'm a girl. I know a lot about relationships." She shrugs.
"You're Rachel Berry. You know nothing about relationships."
"Hmph. How about this? If my advice gets you Santana back, then you join the Glee Club."
"Fuck no! You're insane."
"Think about it! You're convinced that I can't help you get her, so what is the problem? Unless you're scared, and you think my advice actually will work, in which case, you get Santana back. All you will have to do is sit in the choir room for an hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. You don't even have to sing."
Taking a minute to mull it over, Puck decides that it actually doesn't sound too bad. Sure, he might have to sit with a bunch of nerds, but he can quit after like a week. "Fine. You have yourself a deal."
Rachel grins; she has this in the bag. "Excellent."
Shortly afterwards, she advises him that the best way to get girls is to show them what they're missing.
"So, what next?" Puck asks.
"Well, for now, let's just wait and see what she does. It's her move. Santana's the type of girl who gets what she wants. If she wants you, she'll come."
Santana would be lying if she said she isn't thinking about Quinn's proposition. She would also be lying if she said it hasn't been the only thing on her mind from the moment she left Quinn's place yesterday. Still, Santana has no problem with lying, especially when it's about how she spent all night and all morning thinking about Brittany S. Pierce.
Of course, she pretends she didn't. She pretends she didn't imagine how Brittany's lips would taste and feel against hers, pretends she doesn't think she smells the blonde's scent everywhere, pretends she doesn't have said scent memorized (peppermint, cigars, and a hint of leather because of that damn jacket). If she doesn't pretend, she'll certainly have a panic attack.
Suddenly, the object of her not fantasies hops in the car, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Hey San!" Brittany exclaims, more chipper than usual.
"Hey Britt," she says cautiously. Great, the nicknames are catching on.
"Did you sleep well?" the blonde asks, trying to start some sort of conversation. She's really excited about her plan to mess with Puck.
"Sure, I slept alright," Santana lies. In reality, she spent most of the night trying to get blue eyes and blonde hair out of her head.
"Cool. Anyways, today after school, I'm going to Mike's to practice for the project. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, okay. That's fine?"
"Just wanted to let you know."
The rest of the car ride is completely silent, with Santana desperately trying to stop thinking about the blonde sitting next to her, while Brittany does the exact opposite. Sensing that Santana is on edge, she's a little concerned. Once the car is parked, Brittany follows their established routine, walking around to Santana's side and opening the door for her before taking her hand.
"Hey guys," Quinn greets as her two friends approach her locker.
"Hey."
"Hi!"
"Jesus Britt, you're in a good mood today. Did San tell you my plan?"
"What plan?" Brittany asks.
Santana glares at Quinn, who smiles as she looks back and forth between the two girls. "Oh, just how I think you two need to step it up in the PDA department. Seems like Puck is slowly slipping from this one's hold." She points to Santana.
"Bullshit," the angry brunette mutters.
"Oh?" A devious grin spreads across Brittany's face, and she lightly pushes Santana into the lockers. "I could be down with that."
Santana's eyes dart to the girl's thin pink lips. They're so close to her own. Suddenly, a pink tongue pokes out, moistening them. "Umm, Puck's not even here," Santana manages to say, still staring.
Brittany's lips get impossibly closer but still don't touch hers. "So what?"
Suddenly, the bell rings, causing them to flinch apart. Santana wishes Quinn would wipe that stupid grin off her face. Brittany's lips had been so close. If she had leaned in...she sighs audibly.
Maybe she's overthinking this. Maybe she just needs to get it out of her system. Once she kisses Britt, she can prove to herself and everyone else, once and for all, that she is totally 100% straight. She probably just misses having someone to kiss. That must be it.
It's settled. When Puck and Brittany are in the same room, she'll kiss the other girl senseless.
Shit, there is so much wrong with that sentence.
Mike finds Brittany squirting ketchup onto pads. "What are you doing?" he asks.
"Sending a message," she responds cryptically.
"Did you read the script I sent you?" Mike is still watching her curiously.
"Nope" she says, distracted. After she covers about 20 pads in the red liquid, she picks them up, causing Mike to screw up his face in disgust. As she walks away, she gestures at him to follow.
"Well, can you look at it before you come over today?"
Without replying, she puts a finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet. He's surprised when she walks straight into the boys' locker room. After peering into Beiste's office, where she finds the coach fast asleep, she tiptoes over to a locker. Confused, Mike just watches as Brittany opens the locker, sticks the pads to the inside walls, then grabs a bunch of unwrapped tampons out of her pockets and dumps them into the locker. Finally, she leaves a note on top of everything and shuts the door.
Mike finally remembers whose locker it is: Puck's.
After pushing Mike out of the locker room and back into the hallway, then laughing for a while, Brittany composes herself. "Sure thing, Mikey. I'll see you after school."
Proud of her work, Brittany struts down the hall. Messing with Puck is so damn fun; she can't wait to see his reaction. As she rounds the corner, she peers into Santana's last class, which is just letting out. As the brunette exits the classroom, they immediately hug, and Brittany is overwhelmed by her perfume. Delicious and pure seduction.
"How was class?" Santana asks.
"Dunno. I ditched."
"Brittany!"
"In my defense, it was totally worth i—mmph!"
Santana suddenly crashes their lips together. Brittany barely feels it when her back hits a locker, despite how hard it is. It takes Brittany a second to react and kiss back, but once she does, she realizes that Santana's mouth is absolutely delightful. It feels as if the brunette is everywhere at once. Her scent is all-encompassing, and she tastes like fucking heaven. Her lips are so soft and plump, and they slip over hers with practiced precision. The way Santana attacks her lips with what anyone would mistake for passion makes her head spin until she's dizzy and drunk off the girl.
Unable to help herself, Brittany moans as Santana nips at her lip before tangling their tongues together. Suddenly, she's overtaken with want and need as she flips their position and runs her hands up and down the Latina's sides. She didn't realize how goddamn horny she was until now. Feeling particularly animalistic, she drops her hands down to cup Santana's ass and pull her closer.
It's Santana's turn to moan as she forgets where they are entirely. Her plan to get Brittany out of her system and make Puck jealous collapses as soon as the blonde's tongue traces her lower lip. The only thought in her head is Brittany. Brittany's lips, Brittany's mouth, Brittany's tongue. She's quickly losing herself to her desire, and she doesn't even care to stop it; she'll worry about the consequences later. Everything about the blonde is drawing her in. She doesn't usually like to be handled roughly, but when Brittany does it...well, fuck. She lets out another moan. Even though Brittany's being aggressive, there's still that feminine touch that really gets Santana going (she'll deny it later). Her lips are smaller and less slobbery than Puck's, her frame more petite, her hands smoother as they run up and down her arms and occasionally on her back under her shirt. Of course, the fact that she has boobs that are pressed tightly against hers doesn't hurt either.
They're still kissing furiously when Santana feels a rougher, bigger hand grab her arm and yank her back, away from Brittany's delicious lips. When she's pushed aside, her eyes find Puck, angry and seething.
Brittany barely has enough time to react before he swings at her head. One second, she's in the hottest kiss of her life, and the next, a fist is flying towards her face and colliding with her jaw, sending her tumbling to the ground.
"Brittany!" Santana screams.
The blonde spits out a decent amount of blood before looking up through her curtain of blonde hair at Puck's angry form. This is going to be fun. Although her cheek is throbbing painfully, Brittany grins. "I take it you read my note?"
Scowling, Puck throws the note, along with some tampons, at her on the ground. "Stay the fuck away from my girl," he sneers.
Then, he kicks her in the stomach, and she screams out in pain. The crowd that formed around them gasps.
Brittany Pierce is not one to lie and take a beating, no matter how much pain she's in. Gritting her teeth, she moves with surprising agility, slamming her body into Puck's midsection with a tackle any linebacker would be envious of. Quickly straddling him, she returns the favor, delivering a swift right hook to his jaw and another to his left. "She's not your girl," Brittany growls before spitting in his face.
At this point, the crowd is chanting taunts and encouragement, while Santana just stands there, stunned. She wants to stop the fight but has no idea how. Mustering all of his strength, Puck tries to roll Brittany over, but she's much more experienced at street fighting and uses his momentum to roll on top of him again.
"Stop it!" Santana finally screams at the top of her lungs. Unsurprisingly, they both ignore her and continue to wrestle on the ground. They both get a few jabs in and continue to roll around, each trying to get the upper hand.
"Santana!" Quinn's voice breaks through the Latina's hard stare. Somehow, Puck and Brittany are both on their feet now, Puck sending hard punches at the blonde, who relies on agility and precision to dodge and jab. "Do something!" Quinn cries desperately.
Santana looks at her before taking a step forward, ready to go all Lima Heights on their asses. Then, Puck swings wide, which Brittany is quick to dodge. Unfortunately, his fist is now heading straight for Santana's face. Closing her eyes and holding her breath, the cheerleader anticipates the imminent pain of an 18-year old quarterback's fist colliding with her nose.
It never comes.
Quinn pulls her back just in time, and Santana—and everyone else—watches the color drain from Puck's face. "San, I'm so sorr—" He doesn't get the chance to finish his apology, because Brittany punches him square in the gut.
"Don't you fucking touch her!" she yells before driving her knee into his crotch and sending her elbow flying into his nose.
Puck stumbles back in pain, trying to distance himself from the blonde. He takes a second to recover, then lunges at her, but something catches him around the waist.
A loud whistle pierces the air, causing everyone to cover their ears. "Alright, break it up, bottom-feeders!" Coach Sylvester shouts, grabbing ahold of Brittany. "Blondie, if you keep thrashing, I will be forced to inject you with the 100 CCs of anesthetic I have on my person at all times."
"Anyone who is here in the next two seconds will spend the next two months hand-washing jock straps!" Coast Beiste booms from where she is restraining Puck with ease.
Immediately, the crowd dissipates. Santana just stares as Brittany and Puck are hauled away by the coaches. Amongst all the commotion, nobody notices when a short-haired blonde picks up a small piece of paper.
"What the hell were you two thinking?" Beiste demands. After getting their wounds treated, Brittany and Puck were brought to the principal's office, where Sue Sylvester, Coach Beiste, William Schuester, Emma Pillsbury, and Principal Figgins are currently observing them.
"It was nothing, Coach. We just had a small argument." Brittany shrugs.
"A small argument? Tell that to your blue cheek and severely bruised ribs and his fractured nose and possibly infertile reproductive organs."
"Possibly? Let's hope. The world doesn't need any more Puckermans running around being douchebags." The blonde smirks.
"You think this is funny, Blondie? My head cheerleader was almost severely injured. Do you know what that would have done to my team?" Sue demands, outraged.
"Sue, this isn't about your Cheerios. This is about two students who caused a lot of damage to each other and to themselves," Will interjects.
"You're right. Their punishment should be expulsion, active immediately."
"What?!" the two students protest.
"I don't think that's the correct solution, Sue," Emma speaks up. "We need to help them, not punish them. Expulsion won't fix their problems."
"What would you know about fixing problems, Ginger? You can't even fix your own problems," Sue sneers.
"Enough! Stop arguing!" Will shouts.
"Order!" Principal Figgins demands, and the room falls silent. "Before we decide anything, let's go back to the first square."
Confused, Puck and Brittany look at each other.
"You heard him! Why were you fighting? Pierce, go," Sue commands.
"Well, I was minding my own business, kissing my girlfriend," she emphasizes, glaring at Puck, "when he came out of nowhere, threw your head cheerleader carelessly to the side, and punched me. I was just trying to defend myself."
"Is this true?" Beiste asks.
Puck tries to explain himself, "Well, yeah, but—"
"Did you or did you not throw the first punch, Johnny Nepalm?" Sue interrupts.
"I did, but that's—"
"No buts. You started the fight. You should be expelled," Beiste says, shaking her head.
"Are you serious?! She trashed my locker and stole my girlfriend!"
"You think I give a damn about your high school drama? I don't. Suck it up and face the consequences." Sue rolls her eyes.
"Sue!" Will exclaims.
Brittany doesn't even try to hold back her grin.
"What are you smiling at, Ke$ha? You think you're off the hook? I have surveillance cameras all over the school. I know you vandalized Puck's locker. Frankly, you two are in the same delinquent boat and should both be kicked out."
"Sue, that isn't our best option!" Emma counters.
"Oh, quiet, lemur."
"Coach Sylvester, let Ms. Pillsbury speak," Figgins says.
"I propose that these two see me twice a week for some one-on-one counseling."
"I thought you wanted to help them?"
"I also think that Noah should be suspended from the football team. I'm sure Coach Beiste understands."
"What? Coach! The team needs me!"
"No. What the team needs is a well-put-together leader. Son, you're more reckless then a bull chasin' a clown."
Puck is too angry to even try to understand what the hell that means.
"And finally," the redhead says slowly, "I think they should both join Glee Club."
The room erupts with "what!"s and protests from Brittany and Puck. "Uh-uh, no way!" Brittany exclaims, vigorously shaking her head.
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Emma," Will trails off.
"Why not? From my experience, Glee is great at building character and rehabilitating people. Plus, you need more members for this weekend!"
Will still looks unsure. Sue, Brittany, and Puck look utterly disgusted.
However, Beiste agrees with Emma. "I think it's a good idea. I may not be a student, but Glee really helped me last year with Cooter."
"Look, Glee does help, but I don't know if they could learn all the choreography in a day."
Of course, Brittany doesn't need to learn it, because she choreographed most of it and is an amazing dancer. Still, she isn't about to go around broadcasting that.
"Will, I know it's risky, but you should at least try. Isn't Glee about accepting yourself and others?" Emma asks.
Looking into her huge brown eyes, Will sighs deeply. "Fine. We'll try it."
