"You've got Cheerios?" Brittany asks.

"Yup, and you have Glee?" Santana replies.

Brittany nods. "Do you want me to walk you to the locker room?"

Santana quirks an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Friends walk friends to their after-school activities, San," she deadpans.

"But the locker room is past the choir room."

"So?" Brittany counters with a smirk.

Fuck, if Santana keeps feeling like this whenever the blonde glances at her, she is in big trouble. "Okay," she whispers.

"Want me to carry your books too?" Brittany adds with faux innocence and sparkling eyes.

Yeah, Santana is in trouble. "Brittany."

"Just wondering." She shrugs innocently.

As they begin walking, they fall into a somewhat tense silence, though not for long.

"I have to sing today in Glee," Brittany groans.

Santana laughs, glad that the uncomfortable silence is gone. "That sucks. I still can't believe you and Puck have to be in that stupid club."

Brittany sticks her tongue out at her friend. "Yeah, I know. The only thing I have to look forward to is one-upping Puck."

"I wish I could see that. It would be hilarious."

"You know, if you really want to, you could come watch me perform."

"Britt, I wouldn't be caught dead in that choir room."

"You can stand outside! Watch me humiliate Puck, yell some supportive words at the doorway, you know."

Truth is, Santana really does want to watch. She's curious to hear her sing and absolutely dying to see her dance. Unbidden, the memory of touching her incredible, firm abs jumps to mind. However, that seems a little too desperate. Besides, if someone sees her watching Glee Club, rumors will spread. Sure, she likes to sing, but that doesn't mean she'll risk social suicide. "I don't think so."

Brittany's blue eyes grow huge, her eyebrows crinkle in the most adorable way, and her lower lip juts out ever so slightly in a pout. This all combines to create the cutest puppy dog look Santana Lopez has ever seen. "Please, San?"

Caught between cooing "d'awww" and feeling really guilty for denying her, the brunette falters and looks away.

"Please?" Brittany whispers again, leaning in closer to Santana. This is definitely not "friendly" proximity.

"I...uhh," Santana stutters as she gets lost in her Brittany haze once again. Her eyes are just so blue, and her skin looks so soft, and those lips..."Okay," she agrees without even realizing it.

The sad look on the blonde's face immediately morphs into a face-splitting smile. "Yay! I'll make sure to be extra awesome just for you!" Brittany cheers. "Okay, kick some ass at practice. I'll see you later!" She kisses Santana's cheek.

"Brittany!" Santana yelps. "I thought we agreed on—"

"Friends kiss each other on the cheek, San." She shrugs as if it's obvious.

Santana wants to be angry at her, but she just can't. With a wink, the blonde turns and walks away, purposefully swinging her hips a little more than usual. Unable to help herself, Santana watches her ass, then outwardly groans. "What are you doing to me?" she sighs to herself.

"Hey Santana!" Julie, a senior Cheerio, calls as she walks over, making the head cheerleader jump in surprise.

She is one of the few teammates that Santana can tolerate. "Yeah?" she replies, thankful for the distraction from a certain blonde.

"Are you and Brittany back together?"

Or not. Santana glares at her, not mad at the girl, but more so mad that what she said isn't true. "No. We're..." she trails off, glancing towards Brittany's retreating figure with longing written all over her face. "We're just friends."

After staring for a while longer, she remembers that Julie is still there and awkwardly clears her throat.

"Go get on the field," she commands before walking into the locker room.


"Alright guys!" Mr. Schue greets with his usual enthusiasm. "We won't have a theme today, because we don't want to overshadow our newest members! Brittany, Puck, glad you came back."

"Are you always this happy?" Puck asks in a bored tone.

"Schue, can we perform towards the end of the meeting?" Brittany asks, completely ignoring Puck.

"I guess so. Any particular reason why?"

"I just want some time to prepare mentally. Y'know, so I can perform my best."

Puck scoffs. "There isn't enough time in the world for you to prepare 'mentally,' Blondie."

"Whatever, Puck. You'll be eating your words when you see me throw down."

"That's what I'm talking about! Some friendly competition!" Will claps excitedly. "Alright, so Sectionals is in a month. Does anyone have any song ideas?"

"Call Me Maybe!" Sugar yells.

"No!" most of the class screams back.

"I would like to do My Heart Will Go On, the epic classic from Titanic," Rachel pipes up.

"Good song choice, but could we get some other voices featured this competition?" Artie suggests.

"Did you have something in mind?" Will asks him.

"Actually, yes. Mike and I prepared something," Artie answers.

"You didn't tell me," Tina whispers to her boyfriend.

"He doesn't have to tell you everything," Brittany whispers back, leaning in from the other side of the Asian boy.

"You're not making me like you any better." Tina glares at the blonde.

"Who said I want you to like me?" Honestly, Brittany does kind of like Tina, who isn't afraid of her like a lot of people are. Still, the Asian girl is super fun to pick on.

"Girls, come on," Mike says, pushing them apart before standing up.

"Take it away, boys!" Will cheers.

Mike and Artie immediately jump into a fan favorite, P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) by Michael Jackson. As they watch, Brittany and Puck realize that these numbers are actually kind of fun, and it's pretty impressive that the rest of the club can sing backup just like that, with no preparation. Artie's voice is smooth, and Mike's dance moves are swoon-worthy. While it's obvious that Mike is performing for Tina, Artie is roaming from girl to girl. However, it seems that he stops most often at Brittany.

The blonde seems amused as Artie sings to her, telling her that she is a "pretty young thang." She even gets up and dances with him, because, well, sometimes she just can't resist dancing. Still, she saves most of her energy for her own performance. At the end, Tina and Brittany return to their seats while everyone laughs and claps.

"Woop woop!" Sugar hollers.

"That was pretty sweet, guys," Mercedes says.

"Thanks," Mike replies.

"So what did the rest of you think?" Artie asks the group, but he's really only looking for Brittany's answer.

"Was that you trying to hit on me?" She arches an eyebrow at the boy in the wheelchair.

"Psh what? Girl, please," he says in a fake gangster voice.

"Artie, you are so into her!" Sugar interjects. "And to think you were hitting on me just last week. Whore. Sorry, Asperger's!"

Everyone simply ignores her.

"Don't worry, it was cute," Brittany praises, "and usually, I would be all over that."

Artie smiles at her, hopeful.

"But I kind of have my eye on someone else right now. Sorry."

"That's alright," he sighs, wheeling back to his spot.

"Really, Artie, I don't know why you even tried. It's obvious she's in love with Santana, although I don't know why anyone would ever like her," Rachel mumbles that last part under her breath.

"Who says it's Santana? And who says I'm in love with her?" Yeah, she has feelings for the brunette, but is she in love with her? How the hell would she know? She's never wanted to be in a relationship with anyone, and she hasn't even gone on a real date with Santana yet. Holy shit, she wants to go on a date with Santana. Damn. How things have changed.

"Oh, please," Rachel continues. "After yesterday's fiasco in Dramatic Arts, it's easy to see there's still attraction between you two. You tried to make her jealous, did you not?"

"Yeah, and she used my boyfriend to do it!" Tina adds.

"It was part of the scene!" Mike objects.

"Yeah, it was part of the scene." Brittany shrugs.

"Right," Rachel scoffs. "Well, either way, Santana looked quite jealous."

"Why are you putting your giant schnoz in my business, Berry? Just because I was forced to be in the same club as you, does not give you the right to talk to me."

"Hey! Watch the attitude, Brittany. Remember, the alternative to this is expulsion," Will reminds her. Brittany narrows her eyes but doesn't respond. "Okay, performance time. Which one of you wants to go first?"

"I'll go, so you know what you're up against," Puck smirks, and the blonde rolls her eyes.

Ugh, did Santana seriously have sex with this pig? Stop thinking about Santana and sex. Brittany glances at the door to see if the brunette showed up.

She's not there.

"Fine, it's better that you go before I scare you shitless with my moves."

Grabbing his guitar, Puck performs Waiting for a Girl Like You by Foreigner. He actually has a decent voice.

"Yeah! Good job, man!" Finn cheers, clapping him on the back as soon as he finishes.

"I must say, I'm impressed, Noah," Rachel admits.

"Thank you, thank you." He bows cockily. "Let's see you try to top that, Blondie."

Brittany just smirks. People knew Puck could play guitar, but no one except Mike knows Brittany can dance. And boy, can she dance. "No problem," she grins before digging out a red snapback from her bag, putting it on her head, and walking to the middle of the room.

She shoots one last glance to the window in the doorway. Where is she?

Trying to shove those thoughts aside, Brittany takes a deep breath as the background music starts to play. She purposely wore tight, black shorts and a red, off-the-shoulder top for this song.

Who run the world? Girls!

The first thing she does is throw her hat in Puck's face, who quickly pushes it off, so as not to miss any booty shakes or body rolls. Even he can't deny that he's getting his ass handed to him.

Santana isn't going to go watch Brittany. She really isn't. However, to get to her car, she has to walk through the school, and she really doesn't want to walk around the whole building. Of course, there are other ways to go through the school, but the one that passes by the choir room is the shortest. At least, that's what Santana tells herself.

When she passes by and peers through the window, her stomach instantly drops—in the "I just got an instant lady boner" kind of way. The door is closed, so she can barely hear Brittany singing. However, she can tell that the blonde's voice isn't half-bad, especially once she factors in the fact that she is doing it while dancing like that. The blonde is breathtaking.

As Brittany turns around to drop her head back, something catches her eye that makes her push herself to dance even more provocatively. There's Santana, staring at her through the window. Smirking, Brittany drops into a low crouch, then does a painstakingly slow body roll, accentuating her ass and chest and running her hands up her own sides, to stand back up.

When the song ends, there is a moment of awed silence as people just stare at her. Then, Mike starts clapping, and the rest quickly follow.

"Damn, that was hot," Puck says, eyes glazed over.

Brittany glares at him, then quickly looks over her shoulder to see if Santana is still there. She isn't.

"Thank you, Brittany and Puck, for those amazing performances! I'm positive we can use your talents for Sectionals. I think this arrangement worked to our benefit," Mr. Schue announces. Swayed by their performances, the rest of the room nods in agreement. "That's all for today. See you all tomorrow!"

Brittany springs into action, quickly grabbing her things before rushing out of the room to see if Santana waited for her.

She's sorely disappointed. Did she do something wrong? Why did Santana leave? Sighing, Brittany walks to her motorcycle, deciding to text the brunette later.


Knowing that she'll probably jump Brittany's bones if she stays a second longer, Santana leaves quickly and tries to ignore the throbbing in her core the whole drive home. She desperately needs a distraction, so she texts Quinn that she'll be over soon. Parking her car in her own driveway first, she then makes the short walk over, letting herself in before climbing the familiar steps to Quinn's room.

"Hi," she says simply to the blonde on the bed before jumping on and burying her face in the pillows.

"Ew San, get off! You're all sweaty," Quinn screeches, trying to push her off. "Why are you still in your uniform? Don't you shower after practice?"

"Mmhmph," she says into the pillow.

"What?" Quinn asks, pushing her over.

"I went to go watch Brittany."

Quinn just shoots her a questioning look.

"She invited me to watch her first performance for Glee, so I did," Santana explains.

"Okay, and you are sweating in my bed, because?"

"Because I have never been so sexually and emotionally frustrated in my entire life," she groans into the pillow.

"Whoa, hold up." The blonde quickly stands up. "You expect me to help you with that?"

"Gross, no! That's not what I meant. I just needed a distraction. All I can think about is..." She trails off, blonde hair and blue eyes invading her mind. "Fuck."

Quinn watches as her friend struggles with herself. "You're hopeless. What happened?"

"What happened was, I watched her practically hump the air in front of the Glee Club."

"Huh?"

"I watched through the window," Santana clarifies.

"Wait, you didn't even go into the room?"

"Fuck no. I wouldn't step foot in there."

"But you stood outside the door and watched a hot girl pop and lock through the window like a creeper."

"That's not how! That's not what I..." Santana stutters. She settles on a glare before sighing, "But she was really hot."

"It's your fault. You could have her, anytime you want. You could hold her, kiss her, touch her—"

"Seriously, Quinn, you're not helping. I have a real problem here."

"Brittany likes you too. I don't see what the problem is."

Santana smiles at the thought. It still blows her mind that Brittany fell for her. "Yeah, I know. Crazy, right?" Wait, did she say that out loud?

"You like her!" Quinn teases, poking her in the stomach.

"Quinn!" she giggles. What? Santana Lopez does not giggle. "Stop making fun of me!"

"Please. You acting like a lovesick schoolgirl? I've been waiting for this opportunity for a long time, and now I'm going to milk it."

"Ugh," Santana groans. She should've known that not having any real crushes would come back to bite her in the butt. "What the hell. Whose side are you on, Fabray?"

Quinn looks at her incredulously. "Duh, hers! I want you two together and happy, no matter how weird it might be for me."

"I want us to be together too! But my parents—"

"Okay, Tana? Listen to me one more time: Your. Parents. Are. Insane."

"Quinn, I don't want to hear—" Suddenly, Santana's phone vibrates, and she looks down at the screen.

From Britt: Hey where'd you go? I was looking for you :(

Santana's breath hitches, and she instantly feels guilty for disappointing the blonde.

To Britt: Sorry, I had to leave. But you were really good. Like, REALLY good.

From Britt: Oh really? How good? ;)

Good enough to almost make me throw everything I've ever known out the window and fuck you senseless right in front of the Glee nerds, Santana thinks, biting her lip at her own dirty thoughts.

To Britt: SO good. I could watch you dance all day.

From Britt: Oh yeah? Well, how about I give you a private performance? You know, as a friend.

The brunette holds back a groan. Brittany is slowly killing her. She can't help herself as thoughts of Brittany giving her a "private dance" flood her mind and her panties. Before she can reply, her phone suddenly disappears.

"Seriously, Santana?" Quinn asks.

"Give that back!" she screeches, lunging for her phone.

"Fine, I already saw who—and what—you were texting."

A blush immediately creeps up Santana's face.

"If you want to sext, do it in your own bed," the blonde says, throwing her phone back.

"I—we weren't sexting!"

"Please San, you were practically shaking with horniness. Also, come on, 'private performance'? She obviously didn't mean a couple of pirouettes and arabesques."

"You know what? I came to you for a distraction from Brittany, and you're not helping at all."

"Well yeah, I figure if we both put pressure on you, you're bound to give in eventually."

Santana groans before jumping off her bed. "Whatever. I'm leaving. I don't have to put up with this abuse." Without a goodbye, Santana walks out of Quinn's sight.

"Sure, San. I know you just want to sext Britt in private!" she calls.

A middle finger flashes in the doorway before it disappears, the slam of the front door following shortly thereafter.


"Hey. Sorry I'm late, I had to drop off Tommy at his friend's house," Brittany explains, settling on Quinn's couch next to the girl.

"No problem. You know how I love that kid."

"He says hi, by the way."

"Aww," Quinn coos. Next time she sees him, she's totally going to bring him a present. "Anyways, I was wondering what your plan is with this whole 'just friends' thing with Santana."

"Who says I have a plan? Maybe I just want to be friends."

"Bullshit."

Brittany gives her a mock serious look before bursting out laughing. "Okay, fine. My plan is to be as innocently suggestive as possible."

"Like?"

"Like 'accidentally' touching her too much, or 'accidentally' dropping my books and 'innocently' bending down in front of her to get them."

"Yeah? What about sending her wildly suggestive and not at all conspicuous texts?"

As Brittany catches on, her eyes widen. "Oh my god, she was here?"

Quinn nods. "'Private performance,' Britt? Really?"

"It was hot, okay? It's part of the plan."

"You should've seen her face. I could practically see her getting turned on." Quinn says it with mock disgust, but honestly, Brittany is jealous that she hadn't been there to see the reaction for herself. "If she keeps reacting like that, your plan will probably work."

"Good. I'm also planning to make a big move at the fundraiser on Saturday."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like 'accidentally' kissing her. I figure I'll have her so worked up by then that she won't be able to resist."

"Jeez, someone's awfully arrogant. You think you can do that in a day?"

"Quinn, I think you're forgetting what I'm capable of. She isn't going to know what hit her."


Afraid of what she might say, Santana ends her and Brittany's text conversation with a simple "Gotta go." After that, her night goes to hell.

As usual, Brittany consumes her thoughts, and she feels especially awkward at the dinner table. It doesn't happen often, but all three members of their family are sitting down, eating a home-cooked meal together in their formal dining room. While her parents chat, she sinks deeper and deeper into her thoughts—thoughts that get dirtier as the night progresses.

When she finally gets in bed, she's practically sweating as she tries to control herself. Never have mere thoughts sent her into such a frenzy that she is practically throbbing. Instead of taking care of herself, though, she decides to try to sleep it off, praying that she will fall asleep quickly. She doesn't, which is part of the reason why she feels absolutely miserable the next morning. The other part is, of course, the fact that she wants Brittany so badly it hurts.

"Hi guys," she mumbles to Quinn and Brittany, who are leaning against the lockers chatting.

"Wow. You look like shit," Quinn comments.

It's true; her makeup isn't as perfect as it usually is, she isn't wearing her cheerleading uniform with her usual confidence, and even her high pony looks droopy. "Yeah. I didn't get much sleep last night. Studying for a test," she lies.

"Aww, poor San. You look exhausted," Brittany says worriedly.

"I know. I'll take a nap when I get home."

"Good. Wouldn't want you tired for the fundraiser tomorrow, right? I'll probably wash my baby today, unless you can make an exception to the 'no motorcycle' rule?" Brittany asks hopefully. Seeing Santana in a bikini washing her bike would be beyond hot.

"Sorry Britt, I can't," she says, actually looking sorry.

"It's okay," Brittany pouts, and Santana's eyes flicker down to her lips. "I'll bring my car around anyways."

Suddenly, a random jock approaches them. "Oh, you're coming to the fundraiser, Brittany?" he asks.

"Umm, yeah?" Brittany answers innocently.

"Well, you should stop by the food table. I make really good hot dogs. I'll even give you one for free." He winks.

"Really? Thanks!"

"What are you still doing here, leatherhead?" Santana snaps at him.

Taken aback, he glances at her before returning his gaze to Brittany. "Well, I was going to ask Brittany if she wanted to go to Homecoming with me, but you kind of ruined my delivery," he answers. "So, what do you say?"

"Sorry, I'm actually thinking about going stag. You know, so I can dance with other people's dates."

The boy frowns. "Alright. Can you save me a dance?"

"We'll see," she grins.

Looking a little happier, he walks away with a small smile on his face. The girls are left in awkward silence, none of them voicing what they're really thinking.

"I guess I"ll see you guys in class," Brittany says slowly. Then, she leans forward to give Santana a kiss on the cheek.

"Wait!" Santana protests again, backing up before her lips can make contact.

"What? It's just a friendly peck, San." Brittany shrugs, but Santana raises an eyebrow in defiance. "Alright, fine. Bye Quinn." She proceeds to kiss the other blonde on the cheek before walking down the hall.

Quinn glances in amusement at the brunette, who looks like she's about to explode. With a huff, Santana stalks off in the same direction as Brittany.