Ch 1: First Day Back

Santana was used to this. She could handle it. Her feet inside her sneakers were hot, her uniform was stuck by sweat to her lower back and her chest heaved even though she tried to keep her breathing even and unnoticeable. But she could handle it.

The loudspeaker squealed as Sue tapped her finger across the trigger and barked: "In the time it has taken you all to deplete my will to live with this routine, 87 squirrel monkeys are fighting off the effects of Nivea skincare testing regiments in a plant not three towns south of here. I have decided to replace you all with them. I expect you all to be showered and lined up at 5 o'clock sharp in the bus bays so that the man I hired who works at the local pound can drive you down there in his doggy van. My monkeys should be arriving in time for Cheerios practice tomorrow afternoon. Class. Dismissed."

Santana didn't drop her arms out of her finishing pose until Coach Sylvester had stalked off the pitch, with the rotund swamp-dwelling feeble excuse for Santana's co-captain waddled after her.
Behind Santana, still crouched on the second tier of the human pyramid, Brittany was frowning.

"Wait. Is she serious? Coz I'm not allowed to use Nivea since I mistook it for mayonnaise and put it in my sister's burger."

Santana waited for her to disengage from the other girls and approach her before she answered the question.

"She's not serious, Britt Britt." They collected their bags and walked together across the pitch, past where the football team was getting a less sadistic berating from Coach Beiste.

"You boys need to stop worrying about the socks ya'll have stuffed in your cups and start focusing on the ball. Otherwise it won't be the only pigs bladder getting hurled around this pitch." Then she oinked.

"Coach Sylvester hates our routine doesn't she?" Brittany wasn't as bemused as Santana was by Beiste, her blue eyes were still vaulted underneath a frown.

"She hates everything Britt."

"Like Mr Heckles?"

Santana shot her a look.

"Who's Mr Heckles?"

"He lived below Rachel and Monica. Or Phoebe and Monica. Or Joey and Chandler. Or Monica and Chandler, depending on what season you're watching. He hated everything just like Coach Sylvester." At this, Santana couldn't help it, she smiled.

Across the pitch, at the concreted path that lead back into the back hallways of McKinley, a short girl with a red and green checked sweater and a clashing stripped blue and white skirt was standing straight backed, her large dark eyes watching them approach expectantly.

"Look, one of Sue's monkeys got here early," Santana muttered to Brittany who flicked her golden pony tail and grinned at Santana. It was somewhat of a conciliation to the impending encounter with Rachel Berry.

"Greetings ladies," Rachel began before Santana had even decided whether or not she was going to acknowledge her.

"Hey," Brittany said, smiling politely. Santana wrinkled her nose.

"The only thing I want to know is where in God's name you're keeping the poor Christmas elf whose outfit you stole."

"How was your summer break?" Rachel asked, ignoring Santana.

"Good, mostly." Brittany said, shrugging. Santana looked sideways at her.

"Lord Tubbington and I got into a huge fight over whether it was okay to pierce his ears or not. Aannd," she sighed, "My parents have adopted a leprechaun. He sleeps in the spare room. I'm not very happy about it seeing as it means I've had to move my weaving studio into the garage."

Santana stifled a snort of laughter at the confusion in Rachel's beady eyes and cut in incase Britt decided to share with Rachel the frequent lake escapades that she and Santana had gone on during the last, hottest weeks of the break.

"Well I guess all my efforts these holidays went to waste," she said, putting on her best disappointed voice and eyeing Rachel up and down. "I spent most of my time hacking off the limbs of each of the 100 voodoo dolls I made of you. Seems not have worked."

Rachel winced.

"Look Santana, I've profusely apologised about what happened in New York. Did you get the apology themed advent calendar that my Dads helped me make? One sorry for each day of the holidays. Although," she paused and cocked her head. "If memory serves a few calendars became more devoted to carefully crafted personalised improvement tips for each of the Glee members."

"One of mine said I had to stop trying to eat sequins," Brittany mused.

Santana shot her a look of concern, more worried about how much she'd taken Rachel's critiques to heart than about Brittany's sequin consumption. Santana had seen her ingest worse, that was for sure.

"I didn't look at mine," Santana admitted. "The exorcist I hired when I saw your name on the card told me it was possessed so I threw it in garbage disposal. Sorry," she added, tilting her head into a bright smile. Beside her, Brittany laughed.

"Look ladies," Rachel was all business despite the insult. Her skin must have thickened after three years, thought Santana. Though she had to admit to herself, taunting Rachel Berry was not so much a priority than it once had been. Only when Rachel begged for it did Santana comply fully. And in Santana's book, dressing up as the seventh downsyndromed child that the Brady bunch had kept hidden from the cameras was begging for it.

"I'm only here because I'm waiting for Finn to finish practise so that he can take me to the gift shop where I heard they have just imported a fresh supply of Barbara Streisand bobble heads. But now that you two are here, there is something I think I best talk to you about."

Santana's eyes were scooting over Rachel's head towards the school but at Rachel's words, she froze, her eyes locked on the U.S flag that curled limply around the nearby flagpole. Cold washed down her skin in a wave. She couldn't know, could she? No, wait, she mentally shook herself. There was no need to panic. Like Britt had said after prom last year:

They don't know what you're hiding. They just know your not being yourself.

She had to get a grip on herself, she thought, flicking her eyes to Brittany who had her head tilted back slightly, looking down her nose at Rachel, drowsy with boredom. Comforted, Santana switched her eyes back to Rachel.

"Spit it out Berry, we don't got all day. I have some more voodoo dolls to harvest."

"It's about Quinn. Finn and I are worried about her. We fear she's become slightly unhinged." Santana's relief felt almost palpable. She had to agree with Rachel on this one. Quinn's new look- The pink hair, Seacrest tattoo, the old man she began dating that had once tried to sell Santana weed on the condition that she bent over in her Cheerio's uniform- it was all concrete proof that Quinn was batshit crazy.

But Santana got it. She did. She understood Quinn better than she'd ever thought she would. That baby had created a huge black hole in Quinn's sanity, and no one cared to look hard enough at Quinn to realise that. Everyone just assumed she was spiralling out of control because she'd lost her boyfriend to Rachel and lost Prom Queen to a fruit fly. But Santana knew what it was like to have everything to lose. Quinn had lost it all. And Santana knew she could just as easily.

"Mmmm, Quinn scares me now," Brittany had popped a Dot in her mouth and was chewing it for comfort.

"She's just going through stuff," Santana said. "She'll come around soon. But I do think she deserves more than one apology advent calendar from you Berry."

"Quinn knows I never meant to upset her. Look maybe you guys can talk her around? We need to keep Glee club together so we have enough performers for our journey on the yellow brick road towards fame and fortune and everything else that comes with winning a national school grade glee club title."

"I dibs being Dorothy!" Brittany said brightly, grinning around at Santana and Rachel.

"O-o-kay," Rachel faltered.

"And you'd be the Wicked Witch from the West," She said nodding at Rachel.

"That was mean Brittany," Rachel chided. "You have to learn to not pick up on Santana's bad habits."

By now, Santana had reached the end of the very small tether she reserved for Rachel. She wanted to get home and take a shower and start the third season of Sweet Valley High she'd brought Britt for her birthday.

"Just spit out what you are trying to say," she snapped.

"You two have to talk her back around. For all the Glee Clubs sakes. Especially my own." That was it. Santana rolled her eyes, threw up her hands in dramatic frustration and shouldered Rachel out of the way, heading for her locker. She didn't have to turn around to know Britt would be following her.

"Sorry Rachel," she heard Brittany say. "Please don't send your flying monkeys after us."

/

It wasn't until she and Brittany were both on Santana's bed, their limbs heavy and loose from their showers that the subject of Quinn was brought up again. The opening credits of the first Sweet Valley High DVD were running and Santana was shifting the black pillows around herself so that she could see the laptop screen better. Brittany was picking a fingernail with her teeth. She chewed it, spat it out and said, "I think we should talk to Quinn."

"Mmm?" Santana humoured her.

"Yeah, because, well firstly I don't trust Rachel with her promise not send the flying monkeys after us. And second, I don't think that Quinn would listen to anyone else but us. We got her to cut her hair remember? She must have kept all her sanity in the ends of it and we got her to cut it off so this is partly all our fault. "

"We can talk to her if that's what you want." She shot Brittany a smile and nudged her foot with her own to pull Brittany out of her impromptu performance of the Sweet Valley High theme song. It was on repeat as the DVD menu flashed on a loop through the play options.

"Hmm?"

"I said we can talk to her. If it makes you happy." Santana heard her voice soften as a smile lit up Brittany's face. Brittany scooted closer to her on the bed and nestled into the curve of Santana's armpit, pressing her bum up against the tops of Santana's thighs. Santana felt her body mould instinctively around Brittany's. She snaked an arm around Brittany's waist, leaving her palm pressed into the hot jut of Brittany's hipbone. Santana felt the familiar trill up and down her body as Brittany leant across the bed and clicked play on the laptop. Her bum moved against Santana's legs and her waist curved under Santana's palm in a way that reminded her of Brittany's dancing- those times in the choir room when Brittany leapt up to join whoever was performing and swayed her hips and flicked her hair in a way that made Santana grip the sides of her red plastic chair so hard that it had bent beneath her fists.

They were only into the opening scene of the Sweet Valley High episode but already Santana was distracted by the lavender-esque scent of Brittany's hair. She'd scooped it up into a low messy bun which left the soft sweep of skin on her neck exposed. Santana, spooning Brittany from behind, had to put her face dangerously close to that patch of skin in order to see the screen.

But she let her eyes drift across Brittany's neck, taking in the soft curl of Brittany's baby hair at the very base of her hairline. Santana closed her eyes and bent to brush her lips against it. Before she could get there Britt nudged her and she opened her eyes to find Britt's face turned to hers.

"You not watching?"

"Hmm? Mmmhmm I am."

"I've had an idea. I think we should do a musical show of Sweet Valley High for the school production this year."

"That is such a good idea Britt Britt. You think that Miss Baggins will let us take away her one man band epic trip to Mordor?"

"Lord of the Flies?" Brittany shrugged. "We'd need to go to New Zealand to ask her at this time of night." She turned her head further to get a better look at Santana. "That's where the Shire is you know."

Absently, Santana ran her finger tips up and down the top of Brittany's arm.

"I know Britt Britt." Her voice, because of the smooth run of skin beneath her finger tips, dropped a notch. Brittany must have noticed its sudden husk because she raised her eyebrows and curled around in Santana's arms to face her.

"Mmm, is it time for my dose of sweet lady kisses?" She rubbed her nose up one of Santana's cheeks and hovered over her. Santana felt a pull between her legs and she watched Brittany's eyes circle her lips. She dipped her head close until Santana could feel the heat of her skin and the wash of Dot flavoured breath across her face.

Then, like in every romantic comedy that ever existed, Brittany's phone, with its ridiculously loud vibration, started to buzz so hard it skittered across the top of Santana's bedside table and onto the carpet.

Brittany pulled away and twisted an arm down the side of the bed to retrieve it. Santana dropped her hands from around Brittany and waited, annoyance knotting itself in her chest.

"It's from Rory,' Brittany said, her thumb scrolling down the message.

"Whose Rory?" She surprised herself with the sharpness in her voice.

"The leprechaun that lives in my spare bedroom. I've told you about him."

"Oh, Potato Sack? " Santana wrinkled her nose. "What does he want? A punch in the face? Coz give him my number, I'd be happy to oblige." Brittany shuffled around so that she was kneeling in front of Santana on the bed.

"He says he got everything sorted and he's starting school on Thursday. He wants me to come home and help him decipher his class schedule."

"Again, he should have asked me. I still have to help you with yours."

"No, today I worked it out by myself."

"That's because we had all the same classes," Santana reasoned."So you're leaving?"

She kept her eyes carefully trained on the lap top screen where the episode was bubbling along, but she didn't take in any of the dialogue .

"Well," Brittany huffed a sigh, "I did promise him I'd help him out in exchange for some insider knowledge about why coo-coo clocks exist and how exactly he escaped from the Irish themed one that my Nana Peirce keeps from the trip to Europe she took when she was a hippie. You know, back when they were fighting against women's suffrage. "

Despite Brittany's comment, Santana did not smile.

"Okay, fine. But you're leaving Sweet Valley High here so I have something to do." Brittany's face fell.

"But then you'll get ahead of me."

"Well if you don't want that, stay."

"Santana." Brittany ducked her head to catch Santana's eyes with her own. "Are you mad?"

Santana sighed, leant forward and jabbed a forefinger onto the mouse pad so that the episode paused.

"No. Go off and be with Rory if that's what makes you happy. But don't blame me if you both end up stuck in the P.E shed for half the day like the last time you tried to sort out your own timetable."

Brittany was silent so Santana chanced a quick glance at her. She could see the top of her cheeks reddening like they usually did when she was upset.

"San..." She reached out for one of Santana's hands but Santana lifted it out of the way and up to her hair where she tightened her pony tail.

"No, Britt. Don't. Leave the DVDs and go. I'll see you tomo..."

Brittany leant forward and cut her off by pressing her lips against Santana's.

Because they were halfway through a word, Santana's lips were awkwardly placed for a kiss and it ended up a little sloppy. But when Brittany pulled back she gaped at her. Brittany never made the first move.

It was one of their unspoken rules when it came to sweet lady kisses. First it had been, only when boys are watching. Then, only if we don't talk during or after. And now, only if Santana makes the moves. It had started after they'd determined that what they did was serious enough to be considered cheating and when Santana's true feelings had burst all over the freaking choir room floor during their performance of Landslide.

Britt had been so patient with Santana's hesitance that Santana was too scared to thank her for waiting just in case it had just been a mistake and Brittany hadn't even realised she'd been waiting.

The feelings had been said now. It was all out there and sometime after that their kisses and touches had acquired the weight of a tonne of bricks behind them when they used to only be the product of light headed dizziness , urged on by a chorus of wolf-whistles and cheers. Seeing as it all meant something, and Santana's stomach tied in knots whenever anything involving another person meant something and Brittany knew this, she had waited. So many times Brittany had let Santana turn the lights off and lock the door and pull sheets up around her chest. She'd laid waiting beside Santana in the dark, her breathing even and her body still- until that unknown something broke in Santana broke- and she would rush at Brittany like a hurricane- all fury and haste. And when Santana came to her like that, every single time she did, Brittany was as supple and ready as liquid beneath her hands and her lips.

Those were some of the reasons why Santana loved her.

It was clear that Brittany only realised she'd broken the rules after the fact. It took a moment and then her eyes dropped from Santana's guiltily and she bit her bottom lip.

"Sorry Santana."

"No, no." Santana cleared her throat against her suddenly cracked voice. "It's alright Britt." She attempted a smile and pushed playfully against Brittany's knee."Get out of here and go make sure your leprechaun hasn't taken off with your pot of gold. If he has I'll hunt him down and stuff him so hard back into the coo-coo clock he won't know what hit him."

Brittany's smile was so wide Santana could see all her teeth and her eyes were only blue slits above her cheeks.

"You," she said, leaning over to kiss Santana on the cheek. "Are the best friend that I could ever wish for."

"Shut up." Santana gave her a light shove. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Once Brittany had left Santana lay on her bed, ignoring her Mom calling up the stairs to tell her dinner was ready. The exertion from that afternoons Cheerios practice had caught up to her muscles and they were so heavy and achy that she just lay there, trying to divert her thinking away from the quality bonding time Rory was getting in with Brittany. She left her laptop on her desk, Sweet Valley High paused 14 minutes in. Eventually her computer switched to sleep mode and the screen blacked out. Santana fell asleep watching it's blinking orange stand-by light.