Eventually, Rachel allowed Brittany to continue wearing the leg warmers because the girl hadn't brought a jacket, and Rachel's emergency slushie change of clothes didn't contain one, either. It wasn't like most of the school masses didn't make fun of her for her clothing anyway, so why care about something else that, in the grand scheme of things, didn't matter? (At least, that's what Rachel told herself because she'd finally gotten tired of telling Brittany to do something she wouldn't do.)

Fortunately, her jeans hadn't taken any of the assault, and with a thorough washing of her hair, along with changing into another ribboned shirt (which finally made Brittany smile), the two girls were once again preparing for a day Rachel was convinced was going to take all of her acting ability to make it through. Sticking her head out of the bathroom door, she scanned the hallway before firming her expression and nodding determinedly. "All right," she slipped her arm through Brittany's, "If you stick with me, no one should slushie you again. Now, let's go to my locker." To be truthful, though it still unsettled her to no end that she was holding onto herself, doing so helped her with her moments of imbalance.

"Mine? Or yours?" Brittany asked, "Because I can never tell if you're talking about yourself or me when you say 'me' or 'mine'."

Rachel reined in the rolling of her eyes. "My locker."

"Yeah; yours or mine? Or is it mine and yours now…?"

Coming to a stop in front of her locker, not Brittany's, Rachel detached from the other girl's arm. Making quick work of the lock, she swung it open. "Does this look like your locker, Brittany?"

Squinting, Brittany tilted her head. "No…" she started, "But then, it could have been the locker sprites again. Last month they rearranged my whole locker to look like Karofsky's, and made his look like mine. He kept on telling me I was at the wrong locker, but I knew it was the sprites because I had forgotten to leave them cheese the night before. …Did I forget cheese again?"

Unsure how to respond to that, Rachel forced herself to mentally shake herself back on topic, and turned back to her locker, blanching at how different it looked from a taller height. Instructing Brittany to unzip her backpack, she started pulling out everything she'd need for her classes, switching out some of the extra books she'd taken home the day before. Right as she was taking another look around her locker and vowing to bring a duster to school (it really was amazing what the extra inches were allowing her to see), a thin, firm body pushed itself in between Rachel and Brittany.

"B," Santana leaned confidently against the locker next to Rachel's, keeping her back to Brittany and completely blocking her out, "A strange little creature bugging you?"

Rachel's eyes flicked back in time to notice the hurt expression that crossed Brittany's face. Mind racing, trying to figure out some way to deal with this situation, she straightened. "Sa-S?" she stuttered.

"Strange little creature."

Rachel continued staring at her.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'mma take care of this." Fastening a false smile on her face, she turned around. "Rachel. Hi."

Having been on the end of that sugary-sweet tone before, Rachel knew what was going to happen. She reached out to touch Santana's shoulder, "San-"

"I got this," Santana repeated, turning her head to stare at Rachel for a second before turning back to Brittany. She tossed her hair. "Hello, Berry."

From where she'd been staring up at Santana with large, sad doe eyes, Brittany perked up. "San!" she chirped, "You'll never guess what happened to me last night."

Hurrying around to Santana's side, Rachel caught the sneer on Santana's face. "Like anybody cares what you did last night. What are you doing, talking to Brittany?"

Brittany's face fell. "Talking to Brittany…? But I'm Brittany – "

" – 's Spanish tutor," Rachel blurted, bringing Santana's attention to her. "The, er – the – everything confuses me."

"But you're teaching me," Brittany mumbled, letting out an, "Oh! Oh yeah, yeah, I'm teaching her," and nodding wildly after Rachel quickly kicked her foot, mouthing, 'You, me,' for the nth time.

Santana stared at the interaction between them silently, lines growing on her forehead as her expression turned concerned and confused. "Spanish? You're… Tutoring her in… Spanish?"

Flicking her gaze to Rachel to check for a nod or shake of her head, a bright smile passed Brittany's face. "Yes," she almost bounced up and down on her toes.

Santana took a deep breath. "Hobbit," she stated lowly, "Scram."

Uh oh. "Rachel," Rachel took a step forward to put herself in between Santana and Brittany, heart squeezing at the puzzled, almost lost look on her face. When Brittany started chewing on her bottom lip, Rachel winced, but knew she couldn't say anything about it at that moment; she filed it away, hoping to be able to ease it into casual conversation later. "Rachel, isn't it almost time for glee? Weren't you telling me you wanted to do that… Thing…?"

"Thing?" Brittany mumbled, finally dropping her head and nodding. "Okay, whatever. See you later, Santana." Taking Rachel's backpack by the handle, she slunked off, managing to still send Santana small, morose looks over her shoulder.

"Okay, what. The. Hell?" Santana rounded on Rachel, glaring at her.

Rachel gave her a hesitant smile.

The door slammed behind her. Stumbling back into it when Santana let go of the arm she'd grabbed to drag her down the hallway and into the janitor's closet, Rachel pushed her hand against it to steady herself. "San?" she gasped, mind frantically trying to figure out just what she'd gotten into and how she could get out of it. But from the looks of it, even if she was the one nearest the door, Santana wouldn't let her leave. Unbidden, she started to feel her heartbeat pick up. With Santana (and especially as she wasn't Rachel but 'Brittany' at the moment), there was no telling what the other girl would do.

Santana shook her head. Standing with her back to Rachel, she slowly turned around. "You went to Rachel?" Santana asked, tone still light but with something threatening the edges.

Rachel couldn't make out her expression, and the slight shock at hearing her name issued from those lips without herself being, seemingly, around, almost threw her. But what to answer? She decided to take the safe option. "Went to Rachel for what?"

"Spanish."

Spanish? "Uhm… Yes. Mr. Schuester told me to meet with her." That was the truth without specific pronouns. Maybe if she kept it vague, she wouldn't trip herself up.

Santana bobbed her head. "I speak Spanish, Brittany! I've taught you Spanish! Why are you going to the hobbit?"

"Because Mr. Schuester told me to?" Rachel asked.

"Fuck Mr. Schuester! You need Spanish, you come to me. Rachel's not even in your Spanish class. I am. You know you copy off of me!"

Well, now she did. Still, the look in Santana's eyes was starting to make Rachel shift uneasily on her feet. "Okay," she tried to placate, "I'll copy off of you."

"You better." Huffing, Santana crossed her arms, eyeing Rachel with an expression that suddenly turned hungry. "Okay, B," the now shorter girl almost purred, doing what couldn't be called anything else than stalking forward, "You know how hot getting angry makes me."

"I… I do?" Eyes widening, Rachel took a step backwards, bumping into the door. What… What was Santana doing?"

"And you know it's been a while since we've gotten our mack on."

Oh my goodness. Her pulse racing even faster than it had since they'd entered the closet, Rachel found herself freezing.

A lecherous smirk curled on Santana's mouth, and she smoothly entered Rachel's personal space. She slid her hands around Rachel's waist, Brittany's torturously sensitive body doing nothing to kick-start Rachel's resolve to seriously try to extract herself from this situation.

Studying her, Santana leaned up. "So what are you waiting for, B?" she quirked her eyebrows, giving Rachel a seductive look, "I wants on them lips. And I wants on them now."