agentb81 (agentb81) wrote,

Fic: Glee is the Word

Title: Glee is the Word
Author: agentb81
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17 (to be sure)
Word Count: 5200
Disclaimer: Glee is copyrighted and belongs to its creators and Fox. Grease and its songs are also copyrighted and belong to the owners of that material.
Summary: Glee attempts Grease which causes Santana and Brittany to re-evaluate their relationship.
Spoilers: Ever so slight references to Season 1, Season 2.
A/N: In this fic, Brittany and Artie are not dating and never have!
A/N2: For my friend LeftiesAreHOT - thank you and enjoy :D



“But I want to play Sandy!” she screamed across the rows of chairs before her. A wave of cringes hit like a domino effect. “I am a leading lady. It should be me!”

“Rachel.” Mr Shuester began with an over exaggerated and impatient sigh, it was a common occurrence, to be questioned by Rachel Berry in front of an audience, somewhat melodramatically. “Think about the role, and think about what is best for Glee Club.” He said diplomatically.

“But I’m the perfect wholesome teenage girl.” She answered with a pout.

“You can’t do sexy.” Santana said with frustration.

“I’m an actress, of course I can do sexy.” Rachel challenged with a pout.

“Actually Rachel, you can’t.” Finn agreed. The Latina beside him smirked.

“Ok, show of hands, all those in favour of Brittany playing Sandy.” Will announced to the group. To his delight, all but two people put their hands up, one being Rachel Berry who had crossed her arms in a huff.

“Brittany, what’s wrong?” The teacher tentatively asked.

“I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to change my name.”

“Britts, you don’t have to change your name. You can totally do it, you’re like all cute and sweet and cuddly one minute and a complete sexy hot Goddess the next. Trust me, this role was made for you.” Santana beamed. “And sex isn’t dating.” She said with a warning glance to her fellow Glee members. Mr Shuester stood in amazement, his mouth agape and feet rooted firmly to the spot.

“I think we’ve found our Rizzo.” Kurt smirked, earning a high five from Mercedes. Santana scowled at the boy sat in front of him, her arms folded protectively across her chest.

“I can’t wait for when Sandy and Rizzo have sex.” Brittany said before the group, earning a surge of bewildered stares.

“Err Brittany,” Kurt began, “they don’t have sex.”

“Yeah they do.” Brittany said adamantly, “Santana said . . .”

“No.” Santana cut her off with a hand in front of her face, “B what did I tell you?”

“You said, ‘this is totally how it should have happened in the movie, now gets naked, I wants to get my mack on.’” Brittany repeated, her head nodding as she memorised the words, her hands folded neatly and innocently in her lap.

“Shit Britt, I also told you not to tell anyone.” Santana scowled.

“You’re not going to withhold sex again are you?” Brittany asked quietly.

“We can still hear you.” Quinn said with an eye roll.

“No, please carry on, this is the Grease I’m talking about.” Puck sneered with a smirk. He turned to Artie who promptly fist bumped him.

“Guys, please!” Mr Shuester eventually called, finally finding his voice. “There’s no sex in Grease.”

“There’s no visible sex in Grease.” Santana challenged, “It’s constantly referred to.”

“Santana’s right, this production is highly inappropriate.”

“Woah,” Santana raised her voice as she got to her feet, she turned to face Rachel, her arm outstretched and her hand up, “back up dwarf, I did not say it was inappropriate.”

“But you raised the valid point that there are constant references to sex and sexual activity throughout the storyline.” Quinn answered.

“And that’s a problem how?” Santana challenged.

“It’s inappropriate.” Rachel whined.

“You said that already and you know what? You’re wrong.” Santana began. “It’s exactly the opposite, we’re teens, they’re teens. So they were all played by old thirty-somethings or whatever, but it was set in high school. We are in high school. In case you haven’t noticed, everything is about sex.”

“Not everything.” Rachel challenged resolutely.

“I agree with Rachel.” Quinn stated.

“Seriously Quinn? So far you are the only one to PROVE to everyone you’ve had sex.” Santana smirked.

“She’s kinda right.” Tina agreed, Mike nodded along with her in agreement.

“And Rachel, Finn might claim he loves you, but he still wants in your pants.” The Latina continued. “And Quinn, that promise ring from Sam? It’s a promise of sex ring.” She smirked, “Guys come on, you all love Grease, I know you do, because it’s topical, it’s about high school, boyfriends, girlfriends, popularity, hotness, sex, singing. It’s what we do.” She concluded with a satisfied smile.

“You’re so hot when you want something so bad.” Brittany whispered from below the brunette, Santana looked down, offering the blonde a flirtatious smile.

“You know, Santana has a point. We might have to tone it down a little but Grease is iconic, everyone knows Grease and the songs are timeless.”

“It’s the word Mr Schue.” Puck agreed with a nod.

“Exactly.” Will said, “We’re doing Grease.” He said as he turned to the white board, with the pen in his hand he wrote a list of characters, so far, two names beside them, Sandy – Brittany, Rizzo – Santana.

“I don’t think I can do the solos.” Brittany said quietly to Santana as she sat down. The Latina placed a gentle hand on the blonde’s bare thigh. “Quinn would make a better Sandy than me.”

“Of course you can. I’ll help you.” She said with a smile. “Quinn’s got nothing on you babe. Trust me.”


“Ok, we need a Danny.” Mr Schue stated, without waiting another beat he said, “Sam!”





“Guys, guys, calm down.” Will said, his arms waving about to quieten the group. “Sam is playing Danny, if that’s ok Sam?”

“Sure, I guess.” He said, his eyes diverted to the floor.

“Great.” Mr Schuester said turning to write his name on the board. “We need a Frenchie.”

“Santana gives the best Frenchies.” Brittany mused from her seat.

“Seriously B, if I would want everyone to know about our sex life, I’d video it.”

“But we already did that.” Brittany said wistfully.

“Brittany Susan Pierce.” Santana warned through gritted teeth. The blonde looked at her with wide eyes, she knew she was in trouble when Santana used her full name.

“I’m sorry San, I don’t think anyone heard.” She said in hushed tones, looking around at the people surrounding them, all eyes appear to be diverted, if they did hear, they were pretending not to, facing the Lopez wrath was not something to be desired.

“Quinn.” Mr Schuester called eventually. “You’re Frenchie.”

“Fine.” The head cheerleader stated with an eyeroll.


“Yo Mr Schue.”


“Hells yeah, I gets to mack on Santana.” He said with a fist pump. The brunette raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Everybody wants to.” The Latina sang and looked to the blonde beside her.

“Everybody does.” Brittany spoke quietly, she sat with a worrying frown and a sadness in her eyes that the brunette couldn’t quite fathom. It was something Santana would question the blonde with later. It was a game they would both play, or so Santana thought, making each other jealous by making out and sleeping with other people always heightened their need and sexual want for each other. However, lately it had become harder for both of them, what had once been envy, turned to jealously and it was slowly turning into hurt. What they didn’t know was, they both felt the same, yet communication between them was strained and it largely did not help when one of them was bordering denial.

The other parts were dished out, some voluntarily, some not, however there was just about a part for everyone however big or small. There seemed to be a sense of harmony and a buzzing excitement amongst the group members, aside for one or two understandable deviants. The spotlight was something that was frequently fought over in Glee Club, and however hard he tried to convince everyone it was a team effort, some people refused believe that.


“Mr Schue.” Rachel said as she bundled down to the front of the room after the vocal coach had dismissed the group. “Do you think it’s sending out the right message that you are casting the most popular members of the Glee Club as the main characters. Brittany, Sanatna and Quinn are all Cheerios, Sam and Puck are on the football team and you’re leaving the more talented of the group on the sidelines.” The tiny brunette finished.

“Rachel, I understand your frustration and the only way you would actually be happy with this production would be if you played the lead.” Rachel smiled with satisfaction at the statement. “But,” upon hearing that fateful word, her smile vanished as quickly as it appeared, “everyone deserves a chance to showcase their talent. Besides, we need to pull the crowds in, sell tickets to raise funds for the club.”

“I see.” Rachel began, “You’re using them to headline the show, to make sure the popular kids attend.”

“That wasn’t my intention Rachel.” Mr Schuester explained.

“No I get it, it’s fine. You get everyone interested now and they’ll keep wanting to come back for more.” Rachel pondered. “Now, if you don’t want any of the other glee club members to find out, it will cost you. I want solo at the next competition.” Will narrowed his eyes, absorbing the words of the student before him. He had not intentionally cast the musical the way he had, yet the small girl had a point, if the other kids started thinking too much about the casting choices, they could draw the same conclusions.

“Done.” He said with a defeated sigh and an outstretched hand. Rachel took it with a smile and shook it enthusiastically.

“I’m actually going to take this as an opportunity to rest my voice, it is an instrument that requires much care and preservation.” Rachel beamed, turning her misfortune into an opportunity.

“That’s great Rachel.” Mr Schuester said, less than enthusiastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”




Brittany lay on her bed, her eyes closed, ear phones firmly in place and attached to her ipod. Blonde hair moved as her head slowly swayed to the music filtering through the wires. She felt her body move as the bed dipped due to an extra weight, her eyes opened slowly and saw exactly who she was expecting. The blonde managed a small smile as the body leant over her and kissed her sweetly on the lips before rolling over and laying down next her. Brittany closed her eyes once again, she felt a tugging at her hand, warm skin glided over her own as Santana threaded their fingers together. Content to just lay there in silence, Brittany listened carefully to the lyrics as they penetrated her thoughts.


Guess mine is not the first heart broken
My eyes are not the first to cry
I'm not the first to know
There's just no getting over you

I know I'm just a fool who's willin'
To sit around and wait for you
But baby, can't you see
There's nothin' else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you
But now there's nowhere to hide
Since you pushed my love aside
I'm out of my head, hopelessly devoted to you
Hopelessly devoted to you, hopelessly devoted to you

My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him"
My heart is sayin', "Don't let go
Hold on to the end"
And that's what I intend to do

I'm hopelessly devoted to you
But now there's nowhere to hide
Since you pushed my love aside
I'm out of my head, hopelessly devoted to you
Hopelessly devoted to you, hopelessly devoted to you


A tear slipped silently from sad blue eyes and slowly formed a path down the blonde’s cheek, she turned her head slightly to see concerned brown eyes looking back at her. Brittany swiped at the tear with an angry fist, Santana caught it in her hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it gently. She reached for the wires and pulled the ear phones from Brittany’s ears. She leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips before settling on her side, facing the other Cheerio on the bed, her hand gently stroking up and down Brittany’s arm

“What is it?” she asked carefully. Brittany looked briefly at the Latina, before her eyes landed back on the ceiling above her.

“I don’t know.” Brittany replied. Santana sighed, she knew Brittany was very aware of what made her feel like this.

“You know I wasn’t really mad at you in Glee club, I know everyone knows about us having sex, it’s just, sometimes, some things have to stay private.” Santana explained.

“I know.” Brittany answered. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

“Britt,” Santana said, scooping up Brittany’s hand once again. “You can never embarrass me.”

“Where did you go after Glee club?” the blonde asked, fully aware of the words that were about to fall from the brunette’s mouth. Santana flinched, the tone was uncharacteristic of her best friend, it oozed grit and spite.

“Puck’s, I went back to Puck’s.”

“Why?” asked the blonde, gaining more confidence the angrier she became.

“Rehearsals?” Santana asked with a shrug, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under Brittany’s inquisition. What made it worse for the Latina is Brittany was yet to look at her. She was shrinking, the more questions Brittany asked without so much as glancing at her, the more guilty she felt and it was not a feeling she was familiar with.

“Really San? Were you rehearsing for the scene when Rizzo thinks she’s pregnant, are you a thingy actor?”

“Method actor.” Santana said quietly. “We had sex.” She admitted. “But we always do, you know that.” Brittany snatched her hand away, placing it on her stomach, she was being unfair, she knew, but she couldn’t help what the heart desired. She also couldn’t help that Santana wasn’t a mind reader. She was being childish and she knew it.  Brittany took a deep breath.

“I don’t like it.” Brittany replied.

“You don’t like what?” Santana asked tentatively, she had an inkling she knew what Brittany meant, she herself felt an overwhelming sense of jealously whenever she saw or heard about Brittany with someone else.

“I don’t like it when you’re with boys.” Brittany replied, her voice sounded small and pleading, but she did not care, she had to tell Santana exactly how she felt, it was weighing her down. Santana sighed, she knew this was coming, she couldn’t deny it. She had noticed the change in Brittany’s demeanour, especially when Santana would talk about Puck, or anyone else for that matter. She had also noticed that Brittany spoke less and less of her conquests, leaving her wondering if Brittany was at all sleeping with anyone else. It scared Santana witless. She had thought what it would be like to give herself completely to Brittany. On the one hand it was the most wonderful thought in the world, Brittany had her feeling things she never thought she could or would. On the other hand, she felt the complete opposite, scared of everything she felt for Brittany and how that would impact on both their lives should people, particularly their parents, find out. And then there was the part of Santana that was the infamous Santana Lopez, why should she care what anyone thought? Damn small town politics she thought. She longed for the day she could leave with Brittany in tow and they could do whatever they wanted, albeit have a quiet uninterrupted life together. That was Santana’s dream, but she knew all too well, dreams didn’t always come true.  “San.” Brittany said, cutting through the brunette’s thoughts.

“I heard you Britt.”

“Are you going to say anything?” the blonde asked.

“What do you want me to say?” The Latina snapped.

“I want you to say what you want to say, not what I want you to say.” Brittany explained with a slight frown.

“I don’t . . .” Santana began. Brittany looked at the confusion on the brunette’s face. She leaned over and kissed Santana, her lips moving slowly against the Latina’s luscious lips. Santana groaned, her breath hitching as the blonde rolled over fully on top of her best friend. Brittany forced her tongue into Santana’s mouth, the brunette happily obliging, she found her hands wrapping around Brittany’s waist, pulling her closer into her body. Brittany had one hand tangled in silken brunette locks, the other placed firmly against Santana’s taut stomach, slowly moving up her body. The kiss was deep, and sensual, Brittany poured everything she had into it, concentrating on showing Santana what she had to give her. It wasn’t just pleasure and passion, but truth and love. The blonde often had a difficulty communicating with words, but this was a language she knew or hoped the Latina would understand. Brittany reluctantly pulled away upon feeling Santana’s hand cup her spanks underneath her cheerio’s skirt. “What are you doing?” Santana asked. “Don’t stop.” She said, her breath laboured, her eyelids heavy with lust.

“I’m not having sex with you.” Brittany replied with ease.

“What? Why not?”Santana said, her eyes shooting open, glaring at Brittany.

“You just had sex with Puck. I am not having sex with you.” The blonde tried again. “I haven’t had sex with anyone else in weeks. I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. I just want you.” Brittany revealed painfully. She watched as different emotions danced across the profound brown eyes before her, willing for one emotion to settle, for it to be one she longed to see. Santana’s mouth opened and closed. To say Santana was confused was an understatement. Brittany slowly rolled off of the Latina. “Can you leave now?” Brittany asked as she stood forlornly beside the bed. Santana sat up, her hair dishevelled, her eyes trained on the blonde.

“I don’t know how to.” Santana replied, with brutal naked truth, exactly what she was referring to was beyond even her own mind.

“You just like stand up and walk.” Brittany said with a disbelieving shrug. And that was it. Santana took her instruction, rising from the bed, swinging her legs over the edge and standing up. She briefly linked pinkies with Brittany, a simple gesture of love before she left the tearful blonde.




There are worse things I could do than go with a boy or two
Even though the neighborhood thinks I'm trashy and no good
I suppose it could be true but there are worse things I could do

I could flirt with all the guys smile at them and bat my eyes
Press against them when we dance, make them think they stand a chance
Then refuse to see it through that's a thing I'd never do

I could stay home every night wait around for Mister Right
Take cold showers everyday and throw my life away
On a dream that won't come true

I could hurt someone like me, out of spite or jealousy
I don't steal and I don't lie but I can feel and I can cry
A fact I'll bet you never knew but to cry in front of you
That's the worst thing I could do


‘Is this what people really think of me?’ Santana thought to herself as she watched her counterpart sing on screen. ‘She’s such a tragic character’. The brunette hung her head in shame, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill, more importantly, she was concerned with what Brittany thought of her. She picked up her cell and glared at it longingly. Several times, her thumb hovered over her number one speed dial. The blonde had always been her number one, not even her parents had made it onto her speed dial list, the list consisted of just one person, it was all she needed. She knew what Brittany wanted, she wanted Santana, just Santana. It would be fair to say that the brunette often thought about giving up her promiscuous lifestyle for Brittany, it thrilled her to think one person could love her the way the blonde did. With that at the forefront of her mind, she hit the keypad.




The auditorium was quiet, aside from the gentle chitter chatter of the New Directions members, until Mr Schuester spoke up.

“Ok guys, let’s get started with a song from Grease, I’ve been working on the arrangement for Sandy.” Will began.

“I don’t need arranging.” Brittany said looking around. Santana patted her leg instinctively, only to withdraw it following the scowl the blonde sent her.  The phone conversation had not gone as planned the previous night, everything the brunette tried to say came out wrong, and when she did say what she intended, in a roundabout way, Brittany was misunderstanding. The blonde had become frustrated with herself and with Santana and suggested they spoke the next day. So far it hadn’t happened.

“Sam?” when there was no response, eyes searched frantically for the blonde in question. “Does anyone know where Sam is?”

“Or Quinn.” Santana smirked, “Head Bitch isn’t here either.” She said suggestively.

“That’s enough Santana.” Will replied. “And as we have no Danny, we need a volunteer.”

“Santana should do it.” Kurt smirked. “She seems to know everything Grease.” The Latina stared incredulously at the boy before her.

“Good plan Kurt. Santana?” Will pointed at the brunette, and gestured for her to take her place.


The music began, Santana frowned, remembering the scene well, she felt sympathy for Danny, she could take her own experience and pour the emotion into the song, maybe this way Brittany would understand how she felt.


Stranded at the drive-in
Branded a fool
What will they say Monday at school?

Sandy can't you see I'm in misery
We made a start now we’re apart
There's nothing left for me
Love has flown all alone
I sit and wonder why-yi-yi-yi oh
Why, you left me oh Sandy

Oh Sandy, baby, someday when high-yi school is done
Somehow, someway, our two worlds will be one
In heaven, forever and ever we will be
Oh please say you'll stay oh Sandy

Sandy my darling you hurt me real bad
You know it's true
But baby you gotta believe me when I say
I'm helpless without you
Love has flown all alone
I sit, I wonder why-yi-yi-yi oh
Why, you left me oh Sandy

Sandy, Sandy,
Oh Sandy


Mouths hung open, Santana starred at her white Cheerio’s sneakers, she closed her eyes, her heart pounded, the pulse loud in her ears. Reluctantly she looked up, just as a burst of applause came from the minute audience in front of her. She was only interested in one reaction, her eyes sought out the familiar blonde, she remained seated as everyone else was stood around her. Santana could make out a shy smile.  The Latina jumped off the stage and slowly made her way up the aisle.

“Great job Santana.” Will said, patting her on the back as she passed, “If you perform your own songs like that you’ll be a star.” He encouraged, however the words fell on deaf ears as she made her way back to her seat.

“You sang to me.” Brittany said as the Latina settled in beside her. “You weren’t Danny, you weren’t singing to Sandy you were singing to me.” She concluded quietly.

“You’re my girl.” Santana whispered, trying to drown out the rambling of one Will Schuester.




The Cheerio’s walked out of the auditorium, pinkies linked, talking animatedly to one another with excitement. It was the usual nonsensical the two would chat about, giggling and laughing as they went. They had decided to talk properly away from eavesdroppers and in each other’s own company.

“Hey, wait up.” A voice called from behind. They both turned to see Puck jogging towards them through the parking lot. “You girls want some company tonight?” Brittany’s eyes narrowed, she looked at Santana, studying her closely, eagerly awaiting the brunette’s response.

“No.” The Latina said, wiping the smirk from the football players face. She shrugged in way of response and winked at Brittany as she threaded her fingers through the blonde’s. “I got all I need right here.” She said quietly. Her reward was a beaming smile.




Brittany was playing with the brunette’s hair, swirling the silken locks through her fingers as Santana lay with her head on the blonde’s shoulder.

“Are we on the same page?” Santana asked as she dozed lightly, enjoying the feel of Brittany’s breathing against her cheek.

“Are we running lines?”

“No babe.” Santana said with a slight chuckle, not to disparage the blonde, but sometimes, the things she said were so endearing. The Latina reached up and stroked Brittany’s face lightly with her fingers. “I have a question.” Santana proposed.

“Ok.” Brittany replied.

“Do you,” the Latina began, “Do you . . .” she couldn’t quite formulate the words.

“I love you.” Brittany stated simply, looking down at Santana. The brunette turned her head and gazed up at the clear blue eyes that stared back. “I love you San.” Brittany repeated, the sincerity shining through her orbs.

“I,” Santana tried to swallow the lump in her throat, “I, I love you too Britt.” She managed before burying her head into the crook of Brittany’s neck. “Britt?” Santana asked with a muffled voice, she felt a hand stroke up and down her back, soothing her obvious nerves.


“Will you go on a date with me?” the brunette asked, her voice small and timid. The hand on her back stilled, she felt the blonde shift beneath her.

“Of course I will go on a date with you.” Brittany said.

“Why did you hesitate?” Santana asked.

“If we date, does it mean we have to stop having sex?” the blonde asked, her voice quivering. Santana’s head shot up.

“No!” she said quickly, “It means,” the Latina began, she covered Brittany’s body with her own, “this,” she pointed at herself, “is yours, and this,” Santana said seductively, stroking her fingertips down the front of Brittany’s body, “is mine and no one elses. So, you can have me and make love to me whenever you want.” The Latina cooed as she wiggled further into the blonde, making herself more comfortable.

“You’re the one that I want . . .” Brittany spontaneously burst into song, earning a giggle from the brunette, “Ooh ooh ooh honey.”

“We have a lot to be thankful to Grease for.” Santana said, “Now how about you show me some of those sweet lady kisses of yours.” Brittany beamed and closed the gap between, capturing Santana’s lips in a searing kiss.





“I can’t get it on.” The blonde whined.


“San, it’s stuck.” Brittany complained further.

“Come here,” Santana began, pulling the blonde toward her.

“You’re going to rip it.”

“I’m not, I know what I’m doing.” The Latina smiled reassuringly.

“I don’t think you do.” Brittany replied, “Taking clothes off is your speciality, not putting them on, especially on me.” Santana laughed heartily. “Shh,” Brittany chastised, “The audience will here you.”

“Stand still.” Santana demanded as she bent down. “These leggings are impossibly tight.” She said with a strained voice as she pulled them up the blonde’s legs. “Wow.” She said, “I never thought I’d be in this position trying to dress you.”

“See, I told you!” Brittany said as Santana pulled the leggings the rest of the way.

“How does that feel?”

“I can’t wait for you to take them off.” The blonde replied.

“Me either.” Santana smirked.

“You two can have your fun later, we need to hurry up.” Quinn said from the other curtain. Santana rolled her eyes.

“Top?” Santana asked Brittany.

“Over there.” Santana turned and bent over to pick the tight black top up from the floor. Before straightening, she squealed as Brittany placed her hands firmly on her ass, squeezing firmly.

“Jeez Britt, not now.” Santana groaned. She stood and turned into the blonde’s waiting arms, giving her a sweet, rushed kiss before hugging her tightly. “Later, hot celebratory sex, I promise.”

“If I’m going to look and act sexy, I need to feel sexy.” Brittany purred into her ear. “It’s too bad Sandy and Rizzo don’t have sex.” She said.

“You are sexy Britt. You’re the hottest person I know.”

“Touch me.” Brittany hissed into the brunette’s ear.

“B . . .” Santana warned. The blonde took the Latina’s hand and placed it at the waistband of her leggings. “B, my hand will not get down there.” Santana laughed, but was cut off when she felt a hand sneak up her skirt and into her panties. “Oh shit.” The brunette hissed, “Britt, we can’t . . . arh . . .”

“Places guys.” A voice called from behind the changing curtains.

“Fuck.” Santana hissed as Brittany quickly withdrew her hand. The brunette snapped into action, holding the top up. “Arms, up, now.” She ordered and roughly pulled the top over Brittany’s head and down her body. “There, hot as fuck.” The Latina admired. “Shoes.” She ordered, watching the blonde grow taller as she stepped into the heels. “Perfect.” Santana grabbed a hold of the blonde’s hand and pulled her from the curtain, a barrage of bemused faces appeared before them. “She’s a method actor.” Santana shrugged and pulled the blonde passed them.




“Guys that was sensational.” Mr Schuester beamed with overenthusiastic pride.

“Thanks Mr Schue.” Finn replied as enthusiastic as his teacher.

“How about we go celebrate at Breadstix?” the teacher asked excitedly. There was a chorus of ‘whoops’ and ‘yeses’ apart from two. A pair of crystal blue eyes looked piercingly into warm brown.

“You guys don’t want to go to Breadstix?” Mercedes asked with astonishment.

“We have . . . plans.” Santana replied.

“We’re going to do the scene that should have been in the movie.” Brittany stated matter-of-factly.

“Britt . . .” Santana started. “We actually have a date.” She mumbled.

“A date?” a choir sang in unison.

“Yes, a date. And this goes no further.” Santana said, pointing her finger around the group accusingly. Several defensive pairs of hands flew up.

“That’s great news you guys.”

“Thanks Mr Schue.” Brittany smiled widely and bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Why haven’t you changed out of your costume?” Rachel asked innocently. Brittany’s eyes met Santana’s as the Latina smirked. “Oh.” The petite brunette as she watched the exchange.

“We have to go.” Santana said, taking a hold of Brittany’s hand, “Come on Britts.”

“Bye guys. I’m going to make love to my girlfriend.” Brittany waved behind her as Santana groaned and dragged her girlfriend out of the school and to the safe haven of her bedroom. However open Brittany was about her relationship with Santana, the Latina wouldn’t have it any other way and would deal with any consequences as when they would arise.



Tags: brittana, brittany/santana, fanfiction, glee

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