"Here's the plan: the three of you wait out here until I introduce Santana and Quinn," Rachel says to them and Sam. The four of them are standing just outside the choir room, listening to Mr. Schuester talk to the Glee Club.
"What?" the boy asks, confused.
"When I say 'our newest members,' bring them in, okay?" she explains.
"Why do I feel like this is way more complicated than it has to be?" Santana whispers in Quinn's ear, causing her to chuckle.
"Got it." Sam nods.
"Now, we'll go to Rachel for an announcement!" They hear Mr. Schue say.
Rachel prances into the room and begins her speech. "As you all know, Glee isn't very popular—"
"Damn right it's not," Puck interjects.
"Noah." Rachel glares. He just shrugs and smirks while Brittany glares at him. She really hates that guy. When the short brunette is sure he'll keep quiet, she continues, "Now, while I love how tight-knit our family has become, we can always add more people to our wall of sound. Therefore, Sam and I have recruited some prospective candidates. Without further ado, I am excited to welcome our newest members!"
Complete and utter silence. Nothing happens.
"Uhh, Rachel, are these imaginary people?" Kurt asks skeptically.
"Yes, Kurt, I'm sure! Ahem, please welcome our newest members!" Rachel repeats loudly.
"Oh, now?" Sam's voice questions.
"Yes, now!" Santana hisses before shoving the blonde boy into the room. She and Quinn follow close behind. Her arms are crossed, and she's scowling, which Brittany finds incredibly hot. She can't help thinking that an angry Santana is a hot Santana.
As soon as they walk in, there is an uproar.
"Oh, hell to the nah! Lopez?"
"Slutty Santana Hopez and Know-It-All Fabray?"
"What's going on? Why are so many hot girls joining Glee all of a sudden? Is this some sort of conspiracy?"
"Hi Quinn!"
The only one who doesn't say anything is Brittany, who smirks when Quinn smiles at her and winks when she locks eyes with her girlfriend.
People continue to throw out their opinions.
"Mr. Schue, I will not stand to have Santana in this room! She's nasty, bitchy, and probably spying on us for Coach Sue!" Tina exclaims.
"I agree. She's been a bitch to all of us, not to mention that both of her exes who full-on fought each other until they were black and blue are in here too. Don't you think we have enough drama already?" Mercedes questions.
"See, this is what you get for being a bitch," Quinn whispers to her friend.
"Whatever. At least I'm being acknowledged." Santana rolls her eyes.
"I'm sure it'll be fine! Puck and Brittany have settled their differences, right?" Mr. Schue asks optimistically.
"Eh." Puck shrugs at the same time Brittany replies, "No way in hell."
"Whatever, Pierce. You're just mad because you know you were a mistake."
Brittany immediately stands up. "What did you just say?" she seethes through gritted teeth.
"I said, you were a mistake. Santana had a lapse in judgement, and you guys dated, but she dumped your ass, and everybody knows that we're going to get back together," he says smugly.
"Oh, that's fucking it! You're asking for a repeat of two weeks ago!" she growls, lunging at Puck, who stands up to take her challenge. Once again, everyone else either takes cover or stands between them, holding them back.
"You two! This is unacceptable!" Will yells, trying to gain order.
After some more struggling and choice words, they are both shoved back into their seats, glaring at the ground.
"Shit," Santana mumbles, not knowing what else to say. She wants to pulverize Puck for even thinking, let alone saying, any of those things, but she can't tell him off in front of all these people.
"See? This will start happening every rehearsal!" Tina cries, exasperated.
"If I could just interject," Brittany speaks up, "it won't matter whether or not Santana is in the room. I'll still want to castrate Puckerman."
"Yeah, and I'll still want to fuck Pierce like the slut she is." Santana's body tenses at Puck's words.
"Fucking pig!" the blonde retorts.
"Useless whore!"
"Jackass!"
"Bitch face!"
"Dick-juggling thunder cunt!" Everyone else in the room can't help but gasp or giggle at Brittany's last insult.
"Stop it! If either of you says one more word, I will have you both expelled!" Will resorts to the last trick up his sleeve to get them to quit arguing. It works.
Blaine tentatively raises his hand.
"Yes, Blaine?" Will sighs. He feels like he has aged five years in the last seven minutes.
Standing up, Blaine turns to face the club. "As much as I don't like the fighting or the drama, can I just say that we are here to sing and have fun doing it? Now, I know I'm fairly new to McKinley, but I'm sure Santana can't be all bad—"
"She is," Tina cuts in.
Blaine ignores her. "I think we should give them a chance to actually audition before we kick them out."
"Whoa, hold up. You didn't tell me we had to audition!" Santana growls at Rachel before turning to Quinn. "Did you know about this?" The blonde shakes her head.
"See? They obviously don't want to be here. They don't even have a song prepared!" Mercedes says.
"Oh, cool it, Aretha. It's not our fault we didn't know we had to freakin' audition. Blame your hobbit captain over here for being a poor recruiter!" Santana bites back.
"Can you guys make something up?" Sam suggests.
"Yeah! San, we can do our—"
"No! Hell fucking no, Fabray," Santana cuts her off. "There is no way I'm doing that!"
"What are you guys talking about?" Artie questions.
"Santana and I have this—" the short-haired blonde starts, but the Latina abruptly clamps her hand over her mouth. They harmlessly hit each other before Quinn twists out of her grasp and hides behind Sam.
"I'm not doing the damn routine, Fabray."
"What's the routine?" Kurt asks.
"It's like the best thing we can do together! We've done it so many times!"
"Hot," Puck comments.
"I'd rather sing by myself."
"But it'd be so much fun!"
"What's the routine?" Tina repeats.
"Man, there's so much arguing today," Rory whispers to Sugar.
"I kind of like it," Sugar replies.
"You mean it would be so embarrassing!"
"What's the routine?!" most of the club screams in curiosity.
"Santana and I liked this particular song in sixth grade, so we practiced our dance moves to it. Over the years, we added more moves and started singing along. Now, whenever we hear the song, we basically have this routine down that we do together," Quinn explains.
"Now you have to do it!" Finn replies.
"I don't have to do a damn thing, Lumps," Santana snarks.
"Language, Santana," Mr. Schue warns.
"Come on, do it! Now we're all curious!" Rachel adds, hoping no one will mention again the fact that she forgot to tell them they had to audition.
"No," Santana growls.
Brittany is really curious now. "Santana, you should totally do it. I really want to see. Please? Please please please?" she begs, pouting at the adamant girl.
Santana falters. "I...ugh, fine."
"Yes!" everyone cheers.
Quinn squeals and prances over to the band, who laugh as soon as she whispers the name of the song to them. As she and Santana get into position, and the distinct introduction starts playing, everyone whoops and claps in realization.
Ah, push it
The whole room eggs them on as they begin to sing and dance in perfect sync.
Ooh, baby, baby
As Santana sings "Get up on this!", Quinn jumps onto her front, placing her hands on her shoulders while Santana grabs her hips. They thrust into each other suggestively. Brittany doesn't know whether to feel extremely jealous or aroused.
Getting off Santana, Quinn starts the first rap section. Once she finishes the verse, they begin dancing in sync again, and the Glee Club is pleasantly surprised by how good they sound, especially while moving like that.
Santana sings the next chorus, her voice raspy and sexy. When she belts out "Now push it!", the two girls face each other and simultaneously do a body roll, their breasts brushing together for a second. Everyone watches, mouths open. Between the steamy dance moves and the suggestive lyrics, the room is getting a little hot.
Finally, they end the performance with their arms crossed and leaning against each other while everyone cheers and claps.
"They're in!" Artie exclaims.
"That was hot," Finn comments, not so subtly covering his junk with a textbook.
Quinn rolls her eyes while Santana smirks.
"Well, that was a great performance, although it was a bit inappropriate. Nevertheless, I think I speak for all of us when I say, welcome to Glee Club!" Rachel announces.
All the guys in the room cheer and whoop, while most of the girls scoff and clap halfheartedly, with the exception of Sugar, who is always enthusiastic.
"Like you wouldn't have accepted us? God knows you need our talent and sex appeal," Santana deadpans.
"Welcome to the club, Santana and Quinn! Please take a seat, and I'll get us started on our theme." Mr. Schuester smiles at them.
Quinn takes a seat in the front row next to Sam, while Santana goes to sit by Brittany. A certain mohawked boy glares at them.
"Theme?" Quinn asks.
"Yes, we always receive a weekly assignment, where we prepare songs that fit the theme. Then, we perform them throughout the week!" Rachel exclaims.
"Insane, right?" Santana feels more than hears Brittany whisper in her ear. The blonde's breath tickles her ear, sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine.
"Our theme this week is Forbidden Love!"
"Oh, you've got to be frickin' kidding me," Santana mumbles under her breath.
"Alright guys, you have your assignment. Get to work!"
"Ughh, Glee Club is so lame!" Brittany complains, throwing her head back. Santana just giggles at her. "At least it's, like, a hundred times better with you in it." The blonde grins, looking down happily at their joined hands swinging between them. The brunette had insisted they take a walk after Glee Club, before their date that night.
Santana just leans up and kisses her girlfriend's cheek softly. She still can't believe how lucky she is. All her life, she's felt pressured and judged by her parents, teachers, Coach Sue, and even herself. With Brittany, however, she finally feels at peace.
"So what are you planning for our date?" Brittany beams excitedly.
"Like I'm going to tell you after what you pulled on our last date."
"Aww please, San? Please?"
"Badass Brittany Pierce begging? Wow, it really is the end of the world."
The blonde opens her mouth to reply but looks away instead, her cheeks flushing.
"What is it, babe?" Santana asks.
"Nothing."
Quickly stepping in front of Brittany, Santana wraps her hands around her waist, effectively stopping her. Brittany stares at the ground, her cheeks tinged with red, but Santana looks at her with those big, brown eyes and says breathily, "Tell me."
"Well, I just think that I've become less badass since I started liking you, and I kind of like it." Brittany blushes harder at her admittance, and Santana's whole face lights up. "A lot."
"Yeah?" Santana says seductively, her demeanor suddenly changing. She pulls them closer together, her fingers barely grazing under the waistband of the blonde's jeans to slowly stroke the creamy skin there. "That's really sweet, Britt-Britt." Her hand slinks lower to dip under her underwear and lightly cup her ass. "But I think badass Brittany is really hot." She emphasizes the last word by squeezing the cheek harshly, making Brittany release the breath she was holding as she moans.
"Yeah?" Brittany asks, biting her lip.
Santana swears she can see Brittany's pupils dilate as she begins kneading into her supple flesh. Her girlfriend seriously has the nicest ass. The brunette can't help but trail her other hand down as well, in order to pay attention to the other side.
As Santana digs into her, Brittany feels herself getting wetter and wetter. Leaning on her shoulder, Brittany kisses her neck tenderly, smiling happily at the hickeys that are now exposed. "Ohh," she groans when Santana's hands travel so low they just barely graze her soaked outer lips.
"So wet, babe," Santana husks.
"San," she barely gets out, pressing her center into her hand.
"Mmmm. As much as I'd like to ravish you right now, I think it's time for our date." Santana pulls back so the other girl can see her smirk. With one last squeeze to Brittany's round, firm cheek, she removes her hand and walks away while swinging her hips.
"Fucking tease," Brittany sighs. However, she can't help but smile and chase after her girlfriend.
"Oh. My. God," Brittany says slowly as she takes in the scene before her.
All the furniture in the living room has been pushed aside, leaving space for the table in the center of the room. Red rose petals litter the floor and table, while dozens of candles shine a romantic glow on the scene.
"How did you do all this? I've been with you since school let out!"
"She may have had a little help," Quinn explains, smirking as she walks out of the kitchen.
"Thanks Q. I owe you one," Santana says.
"Yeah, you do, and you would owe me a lot more if I wore that sexy maid's outfit like you wanted me to." Quinn winks.
"She asked you to do what?!" Brittany asks, going from stunned awe to jealous rage in two seconds flat.
"I didn't! Quinn!" The brunette's eyes go wide before she turns to her girlfriend. "I swear I didn't, Britt. You know I wouldn't do that."
Quinn bursts out laughing and walks to the door. "I'm just messing with you guys. Have fun, you two, and by the way, nice work here, Tiger." She continues laughing as she points to her neck. Santana blushes as she instinctively moves her hand up to grab her neck.
As the door shuts behind Quinn, the brunette sighs, "Quinn Fabray, ladies and gentlemen: complete mood-killer."
"Well, that just means we get to build it up again." Brittany grins. "Are we on a date or not, Ms. Lopez?"
"Oh, we are definitely on a date. For the first part, would you follow me to the kitchen, Ms. Pierce?"
"The kitchen? We're not sitting down at this pretty table?"
"Well, we could sit down, but we wouldn't have anything to eat. I have a surprise for you in the kitchen."
"Ooh, I love surprises!" she exclaims, happily following her girlfriend. However, when she sees various cooking tools and ingredients spread across the island, her face scrunches up into that cute, confused look that Santana loves so much. "Are we cooking?"
"Okay, before you laugh or say it's lame, let me explain: I was sort of extremely nervous for our date, because I've never had to plan a date before, so I looked up first date ideas on the internet like a total loser, and one of the top ideas on all the sites was 'cooking together.' At first, I was like, 'Cooking? How the hell is that romantic?' But then I started thinking about it and figured it could be fun, but the only thing I can really cook is pi—" Santana's rambling is cut off when Brittany presses their lips together. When she pulls away, the Latina inhales sharply. "Pizza," she finishes. "What was that for?"
"To get you to stop talking, because even though you looked extremely cute, I thought you were going to pass out from oxygen deprivation." Santana's caramel skin once again turns a dusky red at her girlfriend's words. "Also, I would really like to cook pizza with you! But I have no idea what to do, because none of this looks like it could become a pizza."
"Well, lucky for you, you have a master pizza chef right here!"
"Master pizza chef? Really?" Brittany questions with a raise of her eyebrow.
"Mhm. Two years ago, my parents insisted I learn how to cook something like any 'model woman' should. They said I was too lazy and needed to start preparing for life." Santana scoffs, but then her lips pull into a smirk. "So I learned to cook something: pizza. From scratch, even the crust. Deep dish, thin crust, cheese-stuffed: you name it, and I can make it, babe."
"Marry me," Brittany deadpans.
Santana blinks twice before they both burst out laughing.
"Seriously though, you're like the most perfect woman ever. I—" I love you, Brittany thinks, but she chickens out. "I really like deep dish pizza."
Noticing the brief pause, Santana dares to hope that Brittany was about to say those three words that she herself has not worked up the courage to say. "Uh-huh, I bet you like it real deep," she smirks.
"You bet I do, baby."
20 minutes into their romantic cooking date, the kitchen is a total disaster. Making the crust proves much harder than Santana expected when Brittany spills a bag of flour. On herself. When the brunette laughs at her, she decides to get her back by giving her a big, floury hug. After that, one thing leads to another, and pretty soon, they have covered the whole kitchen and themselves in the white powder. However, when their stomachs start to grumble, they decide it is time to get serious and get cooking.
"Do you want to knead the dough?" Santana asks. She plops the giant mound of uncooked pizza dough in front of Brittany, who tentatively puts her hands on it and awkwardly starts squishing it. Chuckling at her girlfriend's adorableness, Santana comes up behind her and covers pale hands with her tanned ones. "Here, like this."
"Mmm," Brittany hums when she feels full breasts press against her back, her eyes fluttering shut.
"Just press your fingers into it. Make sure you're going really hard," Santana whispers in her ear.
Brittany's breathing gets shallow, and she presses back into her. There's just something so erotic about the way their fingers mold the dough together. "Like this?" Brittany asks breathily.
"Yeah, just like that, babe. Do you think you can handle it yourself?"
"No!" Brittany moans out. Santana smirks, then removes her hands and steps away. "Fucking tease," the blonde whines again.
"Come on, babe. Why don't you shred the cheese, and I'll prepare the crust?"
Brittany grumbles but does as her girlfriend instructs. Being teased by Santana all day has made her extremely tightly wound. In fact, the only reason she hasn't pushed the Latina up against the counter and buried her tongue between her legs is because she is really looking forward to this date.
If Santana keeps this up, though, she doesn't think she'll be able to hold out for much longer.
