"Maybe we should talk about our 'situation,' so we don't mess anything up?"
They're still in the parking lot, discussing the logistics of their faux tryst.
"Talk about what? We go to school, we make out a little bit for people to see, we go home and have raunchy sex," Brittany says, shrugging.
Santana's eyes bulge before they narrow. "This is what I mean! We aren't actual girlfriends, Brittany. We're just pretending to be, which means no sex."
Brittany smirks before putting her arms around Santana's neck and pressing her up against a car. Leaning in so their lips are almost brushing, Brittany whispers, as sultry as she can, "You don't need to be in a relationship to have sex, Santana."
Against her own will, Santana's eyes flutter closed as she feels Brittany's hot breath caress her lips. The brunette involuntarily shudders, then snaps out of her haze and pushes Brittany away. "No, Brittany. No. I don't swing that way."
"Your loss." Brittany shrugs.
"Besides, if we play our cards right, we won't even have to kiss."
"Seriously? I land the hottest girl in school — other than me, duh — and we don't even get to suck face? Lame."
"You didn't land me, Brittany. I chose you."
"Ugh, whatever Santana," Brittany scoffs before grabbing her helmet off her bike.
"Whoa whoa! You are not driving me home on that!" Santana exclaims.
"Who says I'm driving you home?"
"Well, how else am I supposed to get home? Puck drove me here."
"Then it's either the bike, or you're walking, sweetheart." Grinning, the blonde extends the helmet to her.
The shorter girl eyes her before snatching it out of her hands. Wondering if the girl has lice, Santana examines the helmet. She looks at the blonde's hair to see if she can tell, only to be lost in the way it flows over her shoulders and that ridiculously tight top…Santana shakes the thoughts from her head, then cautiously puts on the helmet before walking up to the bike.
"Well? Are you going to get on or not?" Brittany challenges.
Rather clumsily, Santana straddles the motorcycle and lightly puts her hands on Brittany's hips.
The driver rolls her eyes before reaching down and roughly tugging on Santana's hands, repositioning them so they're wrapped tightly around her waist. "You live by Quinn, right?" A muffled "yeah" comes from behind her. Brittany revs the engine and smiles to herself when Santana screams in surprise. "Hold on tight," she sings, then kicks off and accelerates, perhaps a bit more abruptly than normal.
Gripping the blonde's waist as tightly as she possibly can, Santana buries her head in her neck, praying to any god to let her come out of this experience alive.
Brittany would be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying this, though she doesn't know exactly why. Sure, she loves the way that the girl she hates needs her so much and is so scared of a little motorcycle, but maybe it's not just that. Maybe it's the way she has the hottest girl in Lima mounted on her bike, arms wrapped around her waist and pressing tight against her.
Santana, on the other hand, is scared shitless. Unable to think about anything other than crashing and dying, she keeps her head down. The next time Brittany offers her a ride, she's walking, even if her destination is 20 miles away. She would rather crawl than ride this death machine again.
Before she can think about it anymore, Brittany kills the engine. Santana doesn't budge.
"Santana. Hey, we're here. You can let go now." Brittany gently shakes her.
"Is it over?" the girl asks.
"Yes, it is."
Santana immediately releases her and stumbles off the bike, almost falling on her face. She rips the helmet off, revealing extremely messy dark hair. "Fuck! I'm never doing that again. How the hell can you ride that thing every day?" Santana is breathing hard, her body still pumping with adrenaline and anxiety.
"Excuse me, I don't appreciate when you call my baby a thing. It's bullying, and I won't accept it."
"God, you are so weird! I can't believe I have to pretend to like you!" Santana yells, running her hand through her hair.
"Why are you acting like this is my fault? You're the one who said my name! If it weren't for you, I would be banging that hot girl right now."
"Ugh, you know what? Why don't we just focus on the job we have to do? The sooner we can 'break up,' the better." Santana walks to her front door, the taller girl reluctantly following.
"Fine," Brittany grumbles. "What's the first st — oomph!" She walks right into Santana, who had stopped at the threshold. "What the—" she starts before spotting the cause.
There, sitting in the living room armchair, is a glaring Quinn.
"Run!" Santana screams comically before turning into Brittany.
The taller girl holds her in place and looks at Quinn, knowing they're about to get a smackdown and hoping Santana will get the brunt of her impending wrath. "Oh no, Santana, I want to see this," she smirks. Quinn can be scary when she wants to be.
"Sit down, you two," Quinn demands. They do as she says, taking their places across from Quinn on the couch. "Now, maybe one of you can explain why the hell JBI's last post has a picture of you two holding hands at Breadstix, with the caption 'Breaking News: Bitchy head cheerleader confesses to bad boy Puck that she's cheating on him with badder girl Brittany Pierce.'"
"What? Let me see that." Santana snatches the phone out of Quinn's hand before reading aloud, "'Santana Lopez and Noah 'Puck' Puckerman were spotted having a date at local dirty dining restaurant Breadstix. Witnesses confirm that Puck initiated the breakup of the power couple, but a twist came — a shocker that no one saw coming. The head cheerleader claimed that she was relieved they were over, so she could stop hiding her relationship with one Brittany S. Pierce.
Now, anyone who's anyone knows that the sexy Latina and the hot blonde don't get along, but maybe that was all a cover to protect their sapphic relationship?
Either way, Lopez's claim was supported by Pierce, who happened to be seated close to the arguing couple. Perhaps the blonde was keeping a close eye on her girlfriend…or her girlfriend's boyfriend? In any case, she jumped to support Lopez right after she outed them. Puck screamed at the couple in outrage before running out, tears streaming down his face.
So many questions arise from this new relationship: how long have the two been together? How long will the two fiercest girls in McKinley last? How is Puck going to deal with the fact that he lost his girl to another girl? Will Brittany be the new proverbial king of McKinley, or will Lopez be dethroned? And the biggest one of all: who would win in a fight, Brittany or Puck?
Keep following this blog for more information.'"
When she finishes, the room is dead silent for a second. Quinn waits for either of them to say something.
"That's insane," Brittany scoffs. "I would totally win against Puck. I'm sure everyone remembers how I beat up Rick 'the Stick' for throwing a slushie at someone next to me and splattering all over my jeans."
"And Breadstix is not a dirty dining restaurant!" Santana pipes up.
Quinn's jaw literally drops. "Is that seriously all you can say for yourselves? How is this even possible? You two are my best friends. There's no way I wouldn't have seen this coming!"
The room falls quiet as Quinn tries to make sense of the whole ordeal.
Suddenly, she suddenly has an epiphany. "I'm totally right!" she shouts, causing the other two girls to jump. "I didn't see this coming, because it's not true! You guys aren't actually dating, are you?"
Brittany and Santana exchange a glance, wondering the same thing: how the hell did she figure that out so quickly?
"Uh, no," Brittany replies matter-of-factly.
"So why are you pretending you are?"
"My darling little Sanny over here wanted to protect her precious reputation," Brittany says, leaning closer to Santana, who scoots away. The blonde just follows her.
"Ugh, stop it, Brittany. You can stop acting like you're my girlfriend now." Santana scowls when she reaches the end of the couch.
However, Brittany doesn't back off, instead placing her hands behind Santana, who gulps. "Who says I'm acting?" she asks seriously, hoping to provoke the girl beneath her like her teasing always does. This time, though, something different happens. Her blue eyes meet brown, and for a moment, Brittany gets lost in Santana's gorgeous brown eyes. Right now, with no snark or contempt behind them, they are so deliciously inviting, swirling with all sorts of emotion and so warm, like mouthwatering chocolate that would melt in her mouth.
"Ew ew ew, gross, nasty, weird!" Quinn exclaims. "Stop acting!" Brittany immediately scrambles up and gets off of Santana, allowing the brunette to sit upright again. "Okay, now that we're starting to act a little more normal, can you explain what the fuck is going on?"
The two fake lovers exchange another glance before Santana starts. "Puck was breaking up with me, and I couldn't seem like the dumpee, so I thought of a way to make me look good. It's what I do," she finishes in a gangster voice, which Brittany finds completely annoying but also…a little cute.
"And why did you say you were sleeping with Brittany, of all people? Everyone knows you hate each other."
"I don't know! Her name was the first that came to mind."
"Oh? Is it because you constantly think about me?" Brittany smirks at Santana.
"No! Because I just saw you like a minute before, dipshit!"
"Ouch, Sanny, that hurts," Brittany says overdramatically, holding her heart.
"And can you stop calling me that?" Santana snaps.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness, I didn't know it bothered you so much. My deepest regrets."
"That too. I don't like that either."
Quinn is getting seriously annoyed now. Her best friends are completely insane. How could Santana even devise a plan this idiotic? And how could Brittany go along with it? "So what are you guys going to do at school tomorrow?"
"I don't know, wing it?" Brittany shrugs.
"No, Brittany," Santana quickly cuts in. "Here's what we're going to do. You're going to hold my hand in the hallway, we're going to sit together at lunch, and you're going to walk me to my classes and meet me afterwards. And then—"
"Whoa, hold up. I did not sign up for this," Brittany protests. "First of all, you need to slow down, because I only picked up about half of that, and second of all, I like my lunch! It's my cigar smoking time. Oh, and why do I have to walk you? Why can't you walk me to my classes?"
"Because you're the guy in the relationship. Duh."
"What? No, I'm not!"
"Of course you are! You bang more girls than all the guys in school combined, and you ride a freaking motorcycle."
"So what?"
"So you're the guy!"
Brittany is about to argue back when she's cut off by Quinn's laughter. "What, Q?" she growls.
Quinn tries to catch her breath before responding. "Nothing, just…you guys won't last two seconds as a couple!"
"Okay, now remember: so sweet and in love that Cupid would cry with joy," Santana tells Brittany as she drives into the school parking lot.
"Got it."
People start staring as soon as they get in view, and they both glare at the crowd.
"This is going to be a disaster, isn't it?" Brittany inquires.
"No. We can pull this off. Don't worry, by the end of the week, you'll be bedding all kinds of disease-infested people once again," Santana snarks before she takes her regular parking spot.
"Just so you know, I'm 100 percent clean. I'm careful, and I get check-ups monthly."
"Whatever, just get out of the car."
Swiftly, Brittany exits and walks around the car, opening the door for her "girlfriend" and reaching her hand out. Santana takes it with a shining smile on her face and shuts the door, their hands never separating.
"The fuck you looking at?" Brittany taunts the onlookers, who immediately avert their gaze.
Suddenly, Quinn is beside them. "Good luck today, guys, although I still think you're crazy!" she says before walking away.
When the two girls reach the building, they just stand there for a second.
"Ready, milady?" Brittany asks.
Santana sighs and squeezes her hand. "As I'll ever be."
The second they walk through the doors, they're confronted by none other than Jacob Ben Israel. "Ladies ladies! Can I get an exclusive?" the boy asks, shoving his microphone in Santana's face.
Completely in character, Brittany steps between them and holds Jacob by his shirt. "Don't you dare come within spitting distance of my girlfriend again. In fact, I don't want you looking at her or even thinking about her. Got it?" the blonde sneers while Santana stands behind her, shocked.
"Umm…y-yes Brittany," he cowers.
She lets go of him roughly before smirking. "Great. Now get the hell out of my sight."
Jacob immediately scurries away, scared for his life.
Santana is a little floored. Usually, she can never get Jacob off her back, even after she slushied him and got the football players to throw him in the dumpster. However, one look from Brittany, and the rat goes running.
Smiling at her, Brittany takes her hand in hers once more, and Santana feels her heart jump. What the…, she thinks to herself.
Shaking it off, she resorts to her defense mechanism: be a bitch. "Don't you think that was a little overboard?" Her voice comes out as a snarl, and she grips Brittany's hand painfully tight.
"Ow!" Brittany hisses, yanking her hand away. "What, do you like him? I hate the guy. Besides," the blonde slings her arm around the brunette's shoulders and pulls her close. "I don't want him touching what's mine."
"I'm not yours, Brittany," Santana spits out. She knows the other girl is trying to get a rise out of her, but she can't hold back the anxiety that's turning into anger.
"See San, you know that, and I know that, but all these people staring? They don't know that, so why don't we finish what you started?"
Although she knows Brittany is right, she would never admit it out loud. Sighing, she gives in. "Whatever. Just take me to class, babe."
Brittany smirks. "Your wish is my command, Your Highness."
Santana rolls her eyes but decides to ignore the nickname. Maybe if she pretends Brittany doesn't bug the hell out of her, she'll quit being so goddamn annoying. Before she can say anything, Brittany swiftly places a kiss on her cheek, pushes her into her classroom, and disappears, giving her no time to react to the kiss.
It was barely a peck, but Santana can still feel moist lips pressed to her skin, the area tingling.