(no subject)
Title: Satan and the Schoolgirl
Author: Helion
Chapters: Chapter 4: The Great Slushy War Two
(Get ready for more dorky!Puck)
Pairing: Rachel/Santana, illusions to Brittany/Santana (past)
Rating: PG-13-R (This may change)
Summary: After being named the scariest ruling psycho-bitch in three counties, there is really just one thing Santana Lopez would like to know.
Warnings: Language, Implied dirty thoughts, violence and slushy related stickiness. =D
Spoilers: 1x18-1x19
Disclaimer: If they were mine, we wouldn't NEED fanfiction. Also, Glee would prolly be on Showtime, because the places that my brain takes them are not FCC compatible.
A/N: Ok, here's part four. It took a little longer because Santana decided to take over my brain and insert a little bit of Pezberry fluffyness while I was revising. Just a little though. *Grin* Hopefully that makes up for the time it took for me to put this up. =D Thanks for reading guys, hopefully the next part won't take so long!
The Great Slushy War: Day Two, Morning Meddling
The majority of New Directions was not happy at being called to the choir room at five thirty in the morning. Kurt was dressed immaculately as usual, in a Ralph Lauren suit and a designer poncho. The effect was unfortunately ruined by him snoring on Mercedes’ shoulder. The black girl herself hadn’t managed to get fully dressed that morning and showed up, unusually, in just jeans and a t-shirt. Tina was in her usual black, however had covered her head with the hood of her sweatshirt and hadn’t applied any of her copious amounts of vampire like makeup yet. Hudson looked suspiciously like he had rolled out of bed, his feet in slipped on skater shoes and a hoodie thrown on over his pajama bottoms. He had simply flopped down on the floor with what appeared to be a security blanket and travel pillow.
Rutherford, Abrams and Chang were dressed similarly, though Matt had chosen a chair whereas his friend had parked himself on top of the piano and laid his head on his crossed arms.
Puck was guarding the door as usual; dressed for war in his combat boots, another set of shorts, this time camouflaged colored (the others shook their heads), and a black wife-beater, he stood alert at the window built into the door. Quinn, Rachel and the two cheerleaders were the only ones dressed normally, Quinn in her customary baby doll dress, Rachel in enough argyle to smother a small animal (Santana’s mantra now became Argyle is not hot, Argyle is not hot…) and the other two in their uniforms. The blondes looked as if they were going to fall asleep on each other’s shoulders.
Rachel, of course, was always chipper in the morning. No one was surprised by this and her incessant chattering annoyed nearly everyone in the room. Santana, however, who was usually a class ‘A’ grouch in the morning, was in an oddly good mood, contrasting the other ten club members. For all the little sleep the four had managed to grab after the egging incident, the Latina felt extremely rested.
She tried hard not to think about the fact that her good mood was probably due to waking up to find Rachel curled into her, head snuggled in her shoulder and arm thrown around her waist. Though they had started on opposite sides of the bed, somehow during the short rest of the night, the two had managed to become tangled in each other. Looking up Santana had sighed, realizing that her little diva had done most of the moving.
Santana had lain awake for a good ten minutes, stroking the girls hair until she opened her eyes. To top that off, beyond a mild case of embarrassment when she awoke, Rachel did not seem to be at all upset about it. In fact she just smiled, kissed the Latina on the cheek, and jumped out of bed to wake the others. Santana hid her smile the rest of the morning.
“Ok, time to spill. Why did you get all of our sleep deprived asses out here at this ungodly hour!” Mercedes finally snapped.
“Cheerio bitches vandalized Rachel’s house last night, complete with eggs and toilet paper. There may have been spray paint if we hadn’t jumped them.” Puck interjected. A murmer went through the club members, as those assembled looked around the room at each other. Their reactions ranged from annoyed to shocked, as Santana jumped into the story of the previous night. After the plan had been solidified and Santana opened up the floor for questions, the others prepared to go to their places around the school, or grab to an extra hours sleep in their cars before the war began for the day.
“Yesterday was showing them who was in charge. Today is about revenge. We need to make sure that this never happens again, got it? Leave the Cheerios to Brittany and I. Sylvester won’t give a damn about us handling them, but she’ll wipe your asses off the map if you touch them. You can go after who or whatever else you want. Personally, I suggest the jocks. We’re not accepting terms from them, only defeat. The art and drama kids are most likely on our side, but are to be regarded with suspicion, they could turn at anytime. Everyone ready?” They all nodded or mumbled their accent at the end of Santana’s speech. They all looked a little more energized that before at the prospect of payback.
“Ok, then break!”
Day two proceeded much the same as day one had. Puck still walked around like he was a badass and not a huge nerd that was getting to live out a live action videogame. Brittany was still untouchable, Artie was still an armory, and the other Gleeks were still armed with super-staining squirt guns. There were, however, a few key differences.
Game Changer
The second day of the war began much as Santana had expected. The Cheerios had gone from smug, at the thought of their devilish Coach trampling Santana into submission, to being either furious or dejected. The jocks had all become irate, and therefore stupider. The drama kids had taken to threatening not just the Cheerios, but everyone. Many of them it seemed had turned to piracy, picking off the weaker students from either side and taking homework, valuables and lunch money from the stragglers. The worst, though, was that the opposition had taken up leadership, the one thing that Santana had not thought would happen (or more precisely, hadn’t thought she had given them time to pull together).
Karofsky had decided that the war needed the leadership of a man. The Cheerio’s fell in beside the person they best thought could take out Santana. Fortunately, she found she had an ace up her sleeve, and it wasn’t Noah Puckerman and his oversized ‘gun’.
“You need to pick up the ones that look sad.” Brittany said to Santana as she, Rachel, and Puck ate lunch. Well, while they ate lunch and Puck sat on a table with his Super Soaker, looking around like they were going to get jumped during their fruit salad.
Which they might.
“Britt?”
“You know, the ones that kinda gave up. You should talk to them, try to be friends with them again. Otherwise they might get mad all over again like Shelly Connor.”
“Britt that’s-”
“Brilliant.” Breathed Rachel. Seriously, could the girl even speak at a normal volume? She was either obnoxiously loud, or making little breathy sounds that made Santana want to jump her even more than usual, just to see if she could get more out of her. Not to mention Santana was sure the diva was taking every opportunity to purposely brush up against her that she could. It was maddening.
“Uh, I was gonna say ‘not doable’ but ok.” Britt, Puck and Rachel looked at her. “What, they don’t like me. I made them run suicides for a fucking hour yesterday. No way are they’re gonna listen to me.”
“No, but they’ll listen to Brittany.” Rachel said slowly. Santana shook her head. “No, really, you said yourself she’s practically untouchable in this whole state of affairs. All sides involved know that she will not advance the situation to violence unless provoked. She understands the populace and what they need to hear better than anyone else in this institution.” Brittany and Rachel shared a look, and she had the odd feeling she was missing something that was somehow going to end very badly for her.
“It’s perfect!” Puck jumped in. A grin was slowly forming on his lips. “She can encourage them to join our side, and then the others won’t get the chance to use them against us!”
Santana looked at Rachel, who was getting that obsessive look on her face again (really, it shouldn’t be attractive. It should scare her), then at Brittany who looked pleased with herself, to Puck whom she raised an eyebrow too.
“What? I’m just here to look hot and hold the gun.” Rachel threw a piece of pineapple at him. He ducked it and laughed. “But, sounds to me like is as good of a plan as were gonna get. We have to have this done by Friday, remember?”
Santana let her head fall to the table with a thunk. It was going to be a long three days.
Turns out Santana had gotten lucky with her team. After a few seconds of lightly smacking her head on the table, she looked up and agreed, telling the Blonde to go for it.
“I’m down as long as those traitorous bitches don’t get any more people to fuck up my plan.” Rachel was giving her an odd look.
“What, Berry?”
“Nothing, you just curse a lot.” Still with that curious look on her face. The munchkin just shook her head and continued. “Anyway, maybe we should expand the plan a bit. Brittany should go talk to the Cheerios for sure, and maybe some of the regular students that don’t really bother with extra-curricular activities. Puck, could you maybe talk to some of the slackers, the ones that don’t really give a damn about what goes on here. I’m sure if you made it worth their time and they had tasks that they would enjoy they could be persuaded to, at the very least, cause a bit of trouble for our enemy.” Puck nodded his agreement.
“Yeah, and then I’ll take Matt and Mike to go talk to some of the JV jocks. They think that Karofsky is scary, but none of them have dealt with the Puckerone!” He pointed to himself and Santana rolled her eyes, about to make her usual comment about no one being scared of someone whole called themselves Puckerone, when she was stopped by a hand on her thigh. A distinctly non-man, Rachel-like hand. On the thigh that was distinctly not covered well by her Cheerios skirt. She may have stopped breathing.
She distantly recognized Puck holding in a laugh and trying not to choke on his Pepsi, and Brittany had a smirk on her face that made Santana think that this was somehow her fault. Mostly though, mostly she just tried to breath normally.
“Yeah, and we can send Kurt to the male Cheerios who aren’t already backing you. Tina can go to some of the more social Goth kids. We’ve so got this!” Rachel exclaimed, looking at Santana with an expression that could only be described as impish.
Santana just nodded, and pulled out her phone (partly for a distraction for the unremitting hand that still had not moved from her thigh) to text her lieutenants from the Glee club. Rachel was right, they had this. If she could ever manage to speak again.
Debriefing
There were ten minutes left in the lunch period, and it had been decided that they needed to split up to accomplish some of their tasks. Brittany spoke to some of the Cheerios as Puck left to see if he could take care of some of the jock. Santana had to make a brief report to the demon god of McKinley’s Cheerios, and while she worried for her little diva, she was reassured of the girls apparently new found badassery when she found her standing outside of Sylvester’s office, completely unashamed and unafraid. Santana smirked, and took a second to take in the scene.
Most of the action in the messy, sticky war was confined to any hallway that didn’t have Sue Sylvester’s office located smack in the middle of it. Not even the rebellious cheerleaders were that brave. So she was only mildly surprised found Rachel standing there, in between two classrooms, with her hands behind her back and one foot pressed up against the wall. The brunette had her head leaned back, eyes closed, and appeared to be deep in thought, except for the owl sweatshirt and ridiculously short plaid skirt she was sporting, she could almost have passed for a Cheerio.
“Rach?” She asked, and the shorter girl glanced up with a look in her eye that was almost sad. Santana felt a sudden chill, and walked over to the tiny singer. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t have to do this.” The girl still had a strange, sad look in her eyes.
“Do what, the Slush War?” The tiny diva nodded. “Rach, of course I have to do this. I’m not gonna let those cheer-bitches tell me who I can and can’t hang out with. I’m sick of it.” Santana took another step in the singer’s direction.
“I’m not worth it.” She said. Santana opened her mouth to counter the girls accusation, but the shorter girl continued quickly, before she had a chance to say a word. “What if your defeated. You’ll be on the bottom of the caste system, just like me. I can’t let you do that to yourself, we can go back to being friends covertly, in the vein of the last few months. I really am fine with it, you know, I know how much control and repute means to you. I’m the identical that way, except of course I-”
“Berry!” Santana was smiling, she was wondering how long it would be before she heard a war related Rachel rant. The smaller brunette shut up immediately, looking down with sad, almost childlike eyes. Santana gripped her diva’s chin and forced her to look up once more and stared her straight in eyes.
“Listen to me. I’m only going to say this one, and I’m only saying it this time because you need to hear it. Your worth it.” The look in Rachel’s eyes told her she got the double meaning of her words, and the Latina continued. “I’m tired of being pushed around, and seeing you and, hell, even the rest of the club pushed around. It’s stupid, and pointless. I’m tired of being that person.” Rachel’s eyes bored into hers, and she said the thing she’d wanted to say to her old friend since they started spending time together at the beginning of the semester. “You make me not want to be that person.”
The Latina let go of her chin, and Rachel smiled slowly, eyes still not leaving Santana’s. The shorter girl leaned in, almost imperceptibly, and Santana felt her breath hitch for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Seeing the girls eyes close slightly, she leaned in a little bit as well, mildly surprised but willing to let Rachel make the first move (it just made things that less complicated).
CRASH!
Both girls jerked around fast enough to cause whiplash. They were just in time to see a large boy in a letterman’s jacket slide down what was now a disassembled trophy case. Thankfully, from its place farther down the hall, she could tell that it was one of the Hockey cases and not one of the many around the school that held Cheerio trophies.
When she was finally able to breathe again (after Coach opened her door, looked down the hall and, seeing it wasn’t one of her displays, retreated into her office with a slam of the door) Santana grabbed Rachel by the arm and the two of them hurried down the hall, in time to see another boy crash into the case and land on top of the first jock. This one she recognized as a Junior Varsity Lacrosse player. Before either girl had a chance to question the situation Puck transitioned into their part of the hall, dragging another JV jock by the collar of his shirt. Mike and Matt followed him.
“What the fuck, Puckerman!” She shouted. She looked over at Rachel, who looked as if she couldn’t decide between annoyance and amusement and had parked herself somewhere in between the two. Santana, herself, decided on annoyance.
“Just doing my job Lopez!” He grinned.
“He really does have horrible timing.” Her little singer stated; with a half smile, half scowl that ended up being an incredibly cute smirk.
Sometimes I hate that boy.
“What did I interrupt something?” He asked, lifting the third jock up and thrusting him at Matt and Mike, who grinned. “Some kind of sappy girly talk. I’m sorry if the war interrupted your estrogen fest.”
“Do you even know what estrogen is, Noah?” Rachel asked, and Santana grinned. Puck punched the poor jock in the stomach and he grunted.”
“Sure, its some girly hormone thing. Now what do you want me to do with these bastards.”
“Weren’t you supposed to be recruiting them, Noah?”
“Yeah, but they said they were afraid Karofsky would beat them. I just needed to remind them that the Puckerone is more of a badass than that stick-dick Karofsky. Anything you want to say, oh great commander?” He said, turning to Santana. She turned without missing a beat.
“So, you guys are afraid of Karofsky?” She asked the guy being held by Matt and Mike, as well as the two were just sitting up. They had the grace to look confused as they nodded.
“Do you really think Karofsky gives a damn about you.” She said as she grabbed the standing jock by his jewels, a snarl on her face. He groaned. “You think he’s going to get revenge for the beating my buddies here just gave you?” She squeezed harder and twisted, then abruptly let go. The jock slumped in his captors arms. She turned to Rachel who seemed to be waiting for her to finish talking. Then the smaller girl calmly walked up to one of the sitting jocks, grabbed him by his short hair, and slammed her knee into his face.
Son of a fuck.
“I thought you were a pacifist Berry.” She said, impressed.
“I am. I do not, under any circumstances, condone unnecessary violence. This is war, and therefore that was necessary.” Santana beamed back at Rachel, who had yet another feral grin on her face. “So, what the real question is here, seems to be whether these boys have any common sense left.” She yanked the boy’s hair once more, shaking him like she had Shelly Connor the night before.
“You heard her boys.” She said turning to the standing jock, the bleeding jock and the just plain terrified looking jock. “Your either with me, and the beatings stop; or you’re not, and they continue. That simple.” The jocks looked at eachother.
“So, either we get our asses kicked by you or Karofsky then? What’s the difference?” The sitting, terrified jock asked.
“The difference is that Karofsky won’t protect you. As demonstrated here. How many of you has Puck taken down just today, and Karofsky hasn’t done anything to even retaliate? Now let me ask you this, how many of my jocks have been successfully jumped by the king of the stupid jocks?” The standing boy looked as if he had just had a revelation. Santana knew she had them then, Karofsky and his cronies had tried to jump her people earlier that day. They had walked away bruised, sticky and stained. She squared her shoulders once more.
“You come to my side, and the beatings stop. Not just from me and my boys.” Puck, Matt and Mike grinned at each other, Puck cracking his knuckles. “But from Karofsky as well. You do what I tell you, and you get protection. That goes for any and all of your buddies that join me. This will all be over by Friday, and I guarantee you I’m going to be the one left standing.”
Council of War
In the choir room next period, which they were all supposed to be in class for except for Puck’s disturbing ability to forge teacher’s signatures perfectly, she once again thanked all listening gods for her friends and Slushy War Generals.
Brittany turned out to be some kind of weird genius at war-time politics, Santana half expected the United Nations to bust down the door of the glee room and snag her at any second. In the time between lunch and their split up to distribute Puck’s notes to each of their teachers the Blonde dancer had already converted a good portion of the Sophomore and Senior Cheerios, complete with blackmail on some to keep them in line (she so didn’t want to know how her best friend got some of the more incriminating information, it was too creepy to think about).
Puck, she had always known but was just now acknowledging, was stupid and loyal enough to do exactly what she told him too without question. He was also smart enough to do it without getting caught, a reassurance considering she was fairly sure that his conversion of the rest of JV jocks was going to be just as illegal as the three that afternoon. Quinn, too, was proving useful with insights into the Cheerios that Santana had not thought of simply because she didn’t give a flying fuck.
Rachel’s idea seemed like a good one, and she wondered again about her girl’s background the last few years that made her so amazing at strategy (and avoided wondering when she started referring to Rachel as ‘her girl’).
“So, you want us to go recruit the other student’s into backing you.” Artie said dryly.
“Yup, pretty much.”
“Because they all hate you.” Mercedes this time, just as dryly as the wheelchair bound boy.
“Basically.”
“And all of this is meant to…”
“Stop the biggest slushy war in history, without letting Karofsky beat the shit out of all of you.” Santana countered.
“Why do you care. I mean, yeah we’ve been helping you out because it was either you or the Cheerios, and they obviously weren’t going to back us, but why do you suddenly give a damn about us?” This was from that over-sized robot Finn. She looked over at Rachel, then at Brittany and Puck. From him, her eyes flowed straight to Quinn, her former friend and captain.
Because she does. Because they do. Because, for fucks sake, and reasons I don’t understand I actually care about all of you.
“Because I do, Hudson. I’m tired of being controlled by the status quo around here. I know what your all thinking, when this is over everything will go back to normal. I’ll drop Rachel, and even Puck and go back to slushies and bitchyness. Well, you’re kind of right.” This earned her a sharp look from Rachel, which she tried to ignore. This had to be good, or she was going to lose them all, and therefore the war. Losing the war would lose her anything and everything she had worked hard for and cared about. If she won though, well if she won she could have everything.
“I will go back to slushies, but they won’t be directed at any of you. I started all of this to make Rachel my friend again,” There were a couple of head turns and confused looks at the word again. “And I’m not going to toss her to the wolves either. I’m tired of the Cheerios telling me what I can and can’t do. It’s one thing when its Coach.” Yeah, Santana was pretty sure the choir room was bugged by that harpy now so she wasn’t taking any chances. She could explain away the rest of what she was about to say but she wasn’t chancing disrespecting her most powerful ally.
“She’s a teacher, and knows what she’s doing, even if her methods are more than a little disturbing. The Cheerios though, they’re just kids. Sure, they happen to be crazy, power tripping kids. I should know, but in the end they’re just students like us. And fuck if I’m going to allow myself to be controlled by them.” She must have been possessed by Rachel. Seriously, that hand on her thigh must have transferred some sort of super power to her. Whatever, it was helping. She could see them listening, and even better, agreeing with her. “They do not get to tell me what clubs I can join. They do not get to dictate the cloths that I wear aside from my uniform, and they do not get to choose my friends for me.”
Now Rachel was beaming at her with pride, and another emotion she still couldn’t quite place but had seen before. It filled her with the strength she needed to keep talking, to say something that she didn’t want them ever to know she thought. She paused to look around the room for a second; Brittany was looking at her with an expression that said about damn time woman and it dawned on her that Brittany had never let any of those things get in her way. Puck, still clutching his toy gun, nearly had tears in his eyes (she had noticed that happing frequently since the baby drama started). Quinn, even, looked like she wanted to hug Santana a little, though she recognized hurt still in her former friends eyes from all of the trouble and pain she had caused in the last year. She put any reservations she had about what would next come out of her mouth behind her, for them. Santana Lopez looked up at her teammates, straightened her shoulders and continued.
“Now, I swear if any of you ever repeat this again, and if anyone outside of this room hears it, I will deny it.” She stared the rest of the room down, one by one until even Artie minutely moved his wheelchair back a half an inch. “Because, while what I’m saying is true, I’m still a badass and I don’t need the rest of you, or the rest of this school, thinking that I have feelings all the time. Schuester, for all he’s a bit of a pussy and an ass, was right about one thing. He said once we were more than a glee club. We’re a family. A team, and you’re my team which means the only ones who get to fuck with you all is me.”
Rachel clapped and jumped off her perch next to Puck on the piano to run over and give her a tight hug. Santana grumbled a bit just to keep up appearances. Still, she wrapped her arms around her munchkin, much as she had the day she found Rachel in the bathroom. Brittany came over and hugged them both from behind. She gave Puck a ‘don’t even think about it’ look, and stared down the rest of the club to make sure they didn’t get any idea’s. After a few moments, Hummel decided to break slightly awkward silence.
“Ok, we get it Lopez. You’re a badass and no one messes with what’s yours.” Brittany let go as the other Cheerio in the room spoke and bounced back over to her chair. Santana felt like grinning at Kurt, though obviously she repressed the urge, for understanding her enough to let the Latina know they were with her without any more sappiness.
“So, now that your done doing your best impression of our resident diva, what exactly is the plan from here on out?” Here, Santana did grin. This time it was feral, the grin of a wolf finally circling its prey. Still, for all her anger at the Cheerios and her excitement and the distinct possibility of the win, she didn’t let go of Berry until she finished her briefing of the others and they were forced to part ways for fifth period.
The rest of the day was cake. Almost all the JV players had been converted, and by sixth period Brittany had turned almost all of the Cheerio’s. Four freshman, a Sophmore and two juniors were left opposing her. Karofsky had many of the Varsity Jocks, but all of the JV and freshman teams were under her thumb, and Santana was winning just by numbers. Still, the true test would be the next day.
Despite the wins later in the day, the day was still messy one, but the ones that had converted had, once more, magically found spare uniforms back in their lockers. Sylvester gave them all suicides that day, however those with the ruined uniforms ran for two hours after Santana’s loyals and converts. They practiced the routine for nationals on the football field after that while Santana, Brittany stood watch over the others and worked on a new routine Coach had set them to teaching the other girls when the hell of Slushy Week was over. Santana had trouble concentrating as she felt Rachel’s eyes on her the entire time. The fact that Brittany was silently laughing the entire time did not help matters.
There was, of course, a meeting of the Slushy Generals (God, Santana thought with a grin, I am so turning into as big a nerd as Puckerman) at Rachel’s house again that afternoon. This time Mike and Matt were invited, and they stayed through pizza and a Rachel-suggested screening of Chicago. Needless to say, none of the boys complained after Rachel allowed a second rewind of Cellblock Tango.
Santana, Brittany and Rachel snickered at the looks on the boy’s faces as they pigged out on popcorn (one of the few snacks Sylvester allowed) and popped in another musical Rachel swore all of them would enjoy. Around midnight, after Puck had been banned from the remote for the third time after his incessant rewinding of the movie version of NINE, all three boys plus Brittany had passed out around the television.
When a sleepy Santana returned from changing in the bathroom, because damned if she was sleeping in jeans, she found Puck had fallen asleep at the foot of the couch, a blanket around him and clutching his super soaker and the remote (how the hell he got it back Santana will never know). Matt, for his part, had fallen asleep in one of the arm chairs, and Brittany had her head on Mike Chang’s shoulder and an arm wrapped around Matt’s leg (again, she did not want to know). She settled down on the large couch she was sharing with an already pajama-clad, half asleep Rachel and she laid down on her end of the couch trying not to disturb her friend.
As she started to doze off, an arm thrown over her head, she felt her companion on the couch shift, and before she knew it Rachel was next to her. The diva wedged her body between Santana and the back of the couch and snuggling into her shoulder. Startled at first, Santana shifted, but calmed down when an arm snaked its way around her waist and Rachel’s forehead found its way into the crook of her neck. She sighed and relaxed, the singer fit her body perfectly, and Santana smiled when the smaller brunette kissed her shoulder. She heard the girl’s half-whisper and the smile grew wider.
“G’night, San.” The Latina stroked the girls hair out of her eyes, wrapped the blanket better around them, and kissed the top of her diva’s head.
“Sleep well, Mi Estrella.”
Next Chapter: Day Three, Beginning of the End
Author: Helion
Chapters: Chapter 4: The Great Slushy War Two
(Get ready for more dorky!Puck)
Pairing: Rachel/Santana, illusions to Brittany/Santana (past)
Rating: PG-13-R (This may change)
Summary: After being named the scariest ruling psycho-bitch in three counties, there is really just one thing Santana Lopez would like to know.
Warnings: Language, Implied dirty thoughts, violence and slushy related stickiness. =D
Spoilers: 1x18-1x19
Disclaimer: If they were mine, we wouldn't NEED fanfiction. Also, Glee would prolly be on Showtime, because the places that my brain takes them are not FCC compatible.
A/N: Ok, here's part four. It took a little longer because Santana decided to take over my brain and insert a little bit of Pezberry fluffyness while I was revising. Just a little though. *Grin* Hopefully that makes up for the time it took for me to put this up. =D Thanks for reading guys, hopefully the next part won't take so long!
The Great Slushy War: Day Two, Morning Meddling
The majority of New Directions was not happy at being called to the choir room at five thirty in the morning. Kurt was dressed immaculately as usual, in a Ralph Lauren suit and a designer poncho. The effect was unfortunately ruined by him snoring on Mercedes’ shoulder. The black girl herself hadn’t managed to get fully dressed that morning and showed up, unusually, in just jeans and a t-shirt. Tina was in her usual black, however had covered her head with the hood of her sweatshirt and hadn’t applied any of her copious amounts of vampire like makeup yet. Hudson looked suspiciously like he had rolled out of bed, his feet in slipped on skater shoes and a hoodie thrown on over his pajama bottoms. He had simply flopped down on the floor with what appeared to be a security blanket and travel pillow.
Rutherford, Abrams and Chang were dressed similarly, though Matt had chosen a chair whereas his friend had parked himself on top of the piano and laid his head on his crossed arms.
Puck was guarding the door as usual; dressed for war in his combat boots, another set of shorts, this time camouflaged colored (the others shook their heads), and a black wife-beater, he stood alert at the window built into the door. Quinn, Rachel and the two cheerleaders were the only ones dressed normally, Quinn in her customary baby doll dress, Rachel in enough argyle to smother a small animal (Santana’s mantra now became Argyle is not hot, Argyle is not hot…) and the other two in their uniforms. The blondes looked as if they were going to fall asleep on each other’s shoulders.
Rachel, of course, was always chipper in the morning. No one was surprised by this and her incessant chattering annoyed nearly everyone in the room. Santana, however, who was usually a class ‘A’ grouch in the morning, was in an oddly good mood, contrasting the other ten club members. For all the little sleep the four had managed to grab after the egging incident, the Latina felt extremely rested.
She tried hard not to think about the fact that her good mood was probably due to waking up to find Rachel curled into her, head snuggled in her shoulder and arm thrown around her waist. Though they had started on opposite sides of the bed, somehow during the short rest of the night, the two had managed to become tangled in each other. Looking up Santana had sighed, realizing that her little diva had done most of the moving.
Santana had lain awake for a good ten minutes, stroking the girls hair until she opened her eyes. To top that off, beyond a mild case of embarrassment when she awoke, Rachel did not seem to be at all upset about it. In fact she just smiled, kissed the Latina on the cheek, and jumped out of bed to wake the others. Santana hid her smile the rest of the morning.
“Ok, time to spill. Why did you get all of our sleep deprived asses out here at this ungodly hour!” Mercedes finally snapped.
“Cheerio bitches vandalized Rachel’s house last night, complete with eggs and toilet paper. There may have been spray paint if we hadn’t jumped them.” Puck interjected. A murmer went through the club members, as those assembled looked around the room at each other. Their reactions ranged from annoyed to shocked, as Santana jumped into the story of the previous night. After the plan had been solidified and Santana opened up the floor for questions, the others prepared to go to their places around the school, or grab to an extra hours sleep in their cars before the war began for the day.
“Yesterday was showing them who was in charge. Today is about revenge. We need to make sure that this never happens again, got it? Leave the Cheerios to Brittany and I. Sylvester won’t give a damn about us handling them, but she’ll wipe your asses off the map if you touch them. You can go after who or whatever else you want. Personally, I suggest the jocks. We’re not accepting terms from them, only defeat. The art and drama kids are most likely on our side, but are to be regarded with suspicion, they could turn at anytime. Everyone ready?” They all nodded or mumbled their accent at the end of Santana’s speech. They all looked a little more energized that before at the prospect of payback.
“Ok, then break!”
Day two proceeded much the same as day one had. Puck still walked around like he was a badass and not a huge nerd that was getting to live out a live action videogame. Brittany was still untouchable, Artie was still an armory, and the other Gleeks were still armed with super-staining squirt guns. There were, however, a few key differences.
Game Changer
The second day of the war began much as Santana had expected. The Cheerios had gone from smug, at the thought of their devilish Coach trampling Santana into submission, to being either furious or dejected. The jocks had all become irate, and therefore stupider. The drama kids had taken to threatening not just the Cheerios, but everyone. Many of them it seemed had turned to piracy, picking off the weaker students from either side and taking homework, valuables and lunch money from the stragglers. The worst, though, was that the opposition had taken up leadership, the one thing that Santana had not thought would happen (or more precisely, hadn’t thought she had given them time to pull together).
Karofsky had decided that the war needed the leadership of a man. The Cheerio’s fell in beside the person they best thought could take out Santana. Fortunately, she found she had an ace up her sleeve, and it wasn’t Noah Puckerman and his oversized ‘gun’.
“You need to pick up the ones that look sad.” Brittany said to Santana as she, Rachel, and Puck ate lunch. Well, while they ate lunch and Puck sat on a table with his Super Soaker, looking around like they were going to get jumped during their fruit salad.
Which they might.
“Britt?”
“You know, the ones that kinda gave up. You should talk to them, try to be friends with them again. Otherwise they might get mad all over again like Shelly Connor.”
“Britt that’s-”
“Brilliant.” Breathed Rachel. Seriously, could the girl even speak at a normal volume? She was either obnoxiously loud, or making little breathy sounds that made Santana want to jump her even more than usual, just to see if she could get more out of her. Not to mention Santana was sure the diva was taking every opportunity to purposely brush up against her that she could. It was maddening.
“Uh, I was gonna say ‘not doable’ but ok.” Britt, Puck and Rachel looked at her. “What, they don’t like me. I made them run suicides for a fucking hour yesterday. No way are they’re gonna listen to me.”
“No, but they’ll listen to Brittany.” Rachel said slowly. Santana shook her head. “No, really, you said yourself she’s practically untouchable in this whole state of affairs. All sides involved know that she will not advance the situation to violence unless provoked. She understands the populace and what they need to hear better than anyone else in this institution.” Brittany and Rachel shared a look, and she had the odd feeling she was missing something that was somehow going to end very badly for her.
“It’s perfect!” Puck jumped in. A grin was slowly forming on his lips. “She can encourage them to join our side, and then the others won’t get the chance to use them against us!”
Santana looked at Rachel, who was getting that obsessive look on her face again (really, it shouldn’t be attractive. It should scare her), then at Brittany who looked pleased with herself, to Puck whom she raised an eyebrow too.
“What? I’m just here to look hot and hold the gun.” Rachel threw a piece of pineapple at him. He ducked it and laughed. “But, sounds to me like is as good of a plan as were gonna get. We have to have this done by Friday, remember?”
Santana let her head fall to the table with a thunk. It was going to be a long three days.
Turns out Santana had gotten lucky with her team. After a few seconds of lightly smacking her head on the table, she looked up and agreed, telling the Blonde to go for it.
“I’m down as long as those traitorous bitches don’t get any more people to fuck up my plan.” Rachel was giving her an odd look.
“What, Berry?”
“Nothing, you just curse a lot.” Still with that curious look on her face. The munchkin just shook her head and continued. “Anyway, maybe we should expand the plan a bit. Brittany should go talk to the Cheerios for sure, and maybe some of the regular students that don’t really bother with extra-curricular activities. Puck, could you maybe talk to some of the slackers, the ones that don’t really give a damn about what goes on here. I’m sure if you made it worth their time and they had tasks that they would enjoy they could be persuaded to, at the very least, cause a bit of trouble for our enemy.” Puck nodded his agreement.
“Yeah, and then I’ll take Matt and Mike to go talk to some of the JV jocks. They think that Karofsky is scary, but none of them have dealt with the Puckerone!” He pointed to himself and Santana rolled her eyes, about to make her usual comment about no one being scared of someone whole called themselves Puckerone, when she was stopped by a hand on her thigh. A distinctly non-man, Rachel-like hand. On the thigh that was distinctly not covered well by her Cheerios skirt. She may have stopped breathing.
She distantly recognized Puck holding in a laugh and trying not to choke on his Pepsi, and Brittany had a smirk on her face that made Santana think that this was somehow her fault. Mostly though, mostly she just tried to breath normally.
“Yeah, and we can send Kurt to the male Cheerios who aren’t already backing you. Tina can go to some of the more social Goth kids. We’ve so got this!” Rachel exclaimed, looking at Santana with an expression that could only be described as impish.
Santana just nodded, and pulled out her phone (partly for a distraction for the unremitting hand that still had not moved from her thigh) to text her lieutenants from the Glee club. Rachel was right, they had this. If she could ever manage to speak again.
Debriefing
There were ten minutes left in the lunch period, and it had been decided that they needed to split up to accomplish some of their tasks. Brittany spoke to some of the Cheerios as Puck left to see if he could take care of some of the jock. Santana had to make a brief report to the demon god of McKinley’s Cheerios, and while she worried for her little diva, she was reassured of the girls apparently new found badassery when she found her standing outside of Sylvester’s office, completely unashamed and unafraid. Santana smirked, and took a second to take in the scene.
Most of the action in the messy, sticky war was confined to any hallway that didn’t have Sue Sylvester’s office located smack in the middle of it. Not even the rebellious cheerleaders were that brave. So she was only mildly surprised found Rachel standing there, in between two classrooms, with her hands behind her back and one foot pressed up against the wall. The brunette had her head leaned back, eyes closed, and appeared to be deep in thought, except for the owl sweatshirt and ridiculously short plaid skirt she was sporting, she could almost have passed for a Cheerio.
“Rach?” She asked, and the shorter girl glanced up with a look in her eye that was almost sad. Santana felt a sudden chill, and walked over to the tiny singer. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t have to do this.” The girl still had a strange, sad look in her eyes.
“Do what, the Slush War?” The tiny diva nodded. “Rach, of course I have to do this. I’m not gonna let those cheer-bitches tell me who I can and can’t hang out with. I’m sick of it.” Santana took another step in the singer’s direction.
“I’m not worth it.” She said. Santana opened her mouth to counter the girls accusation, but the shorter girl continued quickly, before she had a chance to say a word. “What if your defeated. You’ll be on the bottom of the caste system, just like me. I can’t let you do that to yourself, we can go back to being friends covertly, in the vein of the last few months. I really am fine with it, you know, I know how much control and repute means to you. I’m the identical that way, except of course I-”
“Berry!” Santana was smiling, she was wondering how long it would be before she heard a war related Rachel rant. The smaller brunette shut up immediately, looking down with sad, almost childlike eyes. Santana gripped her diva’s chin and forced her to look up once more and stared her straight in eyes.
“Listen to me. I’m only going to say this one, and I’m only saying it this time because you need to hear it. Your worth it.” The look in Rachel’s eyes told her she got the double meaning of her words, and the Latina continued. “I’m tired of being pushed around, and seeing you and, hell, even the rest of the club pushed around. It’s stupid, and pointless. I’m tired of being that person.” Rachel’s eyes bored into hers, and she said the thing she’d wanted to say to her old friend since they started spending time together at the beginning of the semester. “You make me not want to be that person.”
The Latina let go of her chin, and Rachel smiled slowly, eyes still not leaving Santana’s. The shorter girl leaned in, almost imperceptibly, and Santana felt her breath hitch for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Seeing the girls eyes close slightly, she leaned in a little bit as well, mildly surprised but willing to let Rachel make the first move (it just made things that less complicated).
CRASH!
Both girls jerked around fast enough to cause whiplash. They were just in time to see a large boy in a letterman’s jacket slide down what was now a disassembled trophy case. Thankfully, from its place farther down the hall, she could tell that it was one of the Hockey cases and not one of the many around the school that held Cheerio trophies.
When she was finally able to breathe again (after Coach opened her door, looked down the hall and, seeing it wasn’t one of her displays, retreated into her office with a slam of the door) Santana grabbed Rachel by the arm and the two of them hurried down the hall, in time to see another boy crash into the case and land on top of the first jock. This one she recognized as a Junior Varsity Lacrosse player. Before either girl had a chance to question the situation Puck transitioned into their part of the hall, dragging another JV jock by the collar of his shirt. Mike and Matt followed him.
“What the fuck, Puckerman!” She shouted. She looked over at Rachel, who looked as if she couldn’t decide between annoyance and amusement and had parked herself somewhere in between the two. Santana, herself, decided on annoyance.
“Just doing my job Lopez!” He grinned.
“He really does have horrible timing.” Her little singer stated; with a half smile, half scowl that ended up being an incredibly cute smirk.
Sometimes I hate that boy.
“What did I interrupt something?” He asked, lifting the third jock up and thrusting him at Matt and Mike, who grinned. “Some kind of sappy girly talk. I’m sorry if the war interrupted your estrogen fest.”
“Do you even know what estrogen is, Noah?” Rachel asked, and Santana grinned. Puck punched the poor jock in the stomach and he grunted.”
“Sure, its some girly hormone thing. Now what do you want me to do with these bastards.”
“Weren’t you supposed to be recruiting them, Noah?”
“Yeah, but they said they were afraid Karofsky would beat them. I just needed to remind them that the Puckerone is more of a badass than that stick-dick Karofsky. Anything you want to say, oh great commander?” He said, turning to Santana. She turned without missing a beat.
“So, you guys are afraid of Karofsky?” She asked the guy being held by Matt and Mike, as well as the two were just sitting up. They had the grace to look confused as they nodded.
“Do you really think Karofsky gives a damn about you.” She said as she grabbed the standing jock by his jewels, a snarl on her face. He groaned. “You think he’s going to get revenge for the beating my buddies here just gave you?” She squeezed harder and twisted, then abruptly let go. The jock slumped in his captors arms. She turned to Rachel who seemed to be waiting for her to finish talking. Then the smaller girl calmly walked up to one of the sitting jocks, grabbed him by his short hair, and slammed her knee into his face.
Son of a fuck.
“I thought you were a pacifist Berry.” She said, impressed.
“I am. I do not, under any circumstances, condone unnecessary violence. This is war, and therefore that was necessary.” Santana beamed back at Rachel, who had yet another feral grin on her face. “So, what the real question is here, seems to be whether these boys have any common sense left.” She yanked the boy’s hair once more, shaking him like she had Shelly Connor the night before.
“You heard her boys.” She said turning to the standing jock, the bleeding jock and the just plain terrified looking jock. “Your either with me, and the beatings stop; or you’re not, and they continue. That simple.” The jocks looked at eachother.
“So, either we get our asses kicked by you or Karofsky then? What’s the difference?” The sitting, terrified jock asked.
“The difference is that Karofsky won’t protect you. As demonstrated here. How many of you has Puck taken down just today, and Karofsky hasn’t done anything to even retaliate? Now let me ask you this, how many of my jocks have been successfully jumped by the king of the stupid jocks?” The standing boy looked as if he had just had a revelation. Santana knew she had them then, Karofsky and his cronies had tried to jump her people earlier that day. They had walked away bruised, sticky and stained. She squared her shoulders once more.
“You come to my side, and the beatings stop. Not just from me and my boys.” Puck, Matt and Mike grinned at each other, Puck cracking his knuckles. “But from Karofsky as well. You do what I tell you, and you get protection. That goes for any and all of your buddies that join me. This will all be over by Friday, and I guarantee you I’m going to be the one left standing.”
Council of War
In the choir room next period, which they were all supposed to be in class for except for Puck’s disturbing ability to forge teacher’s signatures perfectly, she once again thanked all listening gods for her friends and Slushy War Generals.
Brittany turned out to be some kind of weird genius at war-time politics, Santana half expected the United Nations to bust down the door of the glee room and snag her at any second. In the time between lunch and their split up to distribute Puck’s notes to each of their teachers the Blonde dancer had already converted a good portion of the Sophomore and Senior Cheerios, complete with blackmail on some to keep them in line (she so didn’t want to know how her best friend got some of the more incriminating information, it was too creepy to think about).
Puck, she had always known but was just now acknowledging, was stupid and loyal enough to do exactly what she told him too without question. He was also smart enough to do it without getting caught, a reassurance considering she was fairly sure that his conversion of the rest of JV jocks was going to be just as illegal as the three that afternoon. Quinn, too, was proving useful with insights into the Cheerios that Santana had not thought of simply because she didn’t give a flying fuck.
Rachel’s idea seemed like a good one, and she wondered again about her girl’s background the last few years that made her so amazing at strategy (and avoided wondering when she started referring to Rachel as ‘her girl’).
“So, you want us to go recruit the other student’s into backing you.” Artie said dryly.
“Yup, pretty much.”
“Because they all hate you.” Mercedes this time, just as dryly as the wheelchair bound boy.
“Basically.”
“And all of this is meant to…”
“Stop the biggest slushy war in history, without letting Karofsky beat the shit out of all of you.” Santana countered.
“Why do you care. I mean, yeah we’ve been helping you out because it was either you or the Cheerios, and they obviously weren’t going to back us, but why do you suddenly give a damn about us?” This was from that over-sized robot Finn. She looked over at Rachel, then at Brittany and Puck. From him, her eyes flowed straight to Quinn, her former friend and captain.
Because she does. Because they do. Because, for fucks sake, and reasons I don’t understand I actually care about all of you.
“Because I do, Hudson. I’m tired of being controlled by the status quo around here. I know what your all thinking, when this is over everything will go back to normal. I’ll drop Rachel, and even Puck and go back to slushies and bitchyness. Well, you’re kind of right.” This earned her a sharp look from Rachel, which she tried to ignore. This had to be good, or she was going to lose them all, and therefore the war. Losing the war would lose her anything and everything she had worked hard for and cared about. If she won though, well if she won she could have everything.
“I will go back to slushies, but they won’t be directed at any of you. I started all of this to make Rachel my friend again,” There were a couple of head turns and confused looks at the word again. “And I’m not going to toss her to the wolves either. I’m tired of the Cheerios telling me what I can and can’t do. It’s one thing when its Coach.” Yeah, Santana was pretty sure the choir room was bugged by that harpy now so she wasn’t taking any chances. She could explain away the rest of what she was about to say but she wasn’t chancing disrespecting her most powerful ally.
“She’s a teacher, and knows what she’s doing, even if her methods are more than a little disturbing. The Cheerios though, they’re just kids. Sure, they happen to be crazy, power tripping kids. I should know, but in the end they’re just students like us. And fuck if I’m going to allow myself to be controlled by them.” She must have been possessed by Rachel. Seriously, that hand on her thigh must have transferred some sort of super power to her. Whatever, it was helping. She could see them listening, and even better, agreeing with her. “They do not get to tell me what clubs I can join. They do not get to dictate the cloths that I wear aside from my uniform, and they do not get to choose my friends for me.”
Now Rachel was beaming at her with pride, and another emotion she still couldn’t quite place but had seen before. It filled her with the strength she needed to keep talking, to say something that she didn’t want them ever to know she thought. She paused to look around the room for a second; Brittany was looking at her with an expression that said about damn time woman and it dawned on her that Brittany had never let any of those things get in her way. Puck, still clutching his toy gun, nearly had tears in his eyes (she had noticed that happing frequently since the baby drama started). Quinn, even, looked like she wanted to hug Santana a little, though she recognized hurt still in her former friends eyes from all of the trouble and pain she had caused in the last year. She put any reservations she had about what would next come out of her mouth behind her, for them. Santana Lopez looked up at her teammates, straightened her shoulders and continued.
“Now, I swear if any of you ever repeat this again, and if anyone outside of this room hears it, I will deny it.” She stared the rest of the room down, one by one until even Artie minutely moved his wheelchair back a half an inch. “Because, while what I’m saying is true, I’m still a badass and I don’t need the rest of you, or the rest of this school, thinking that I have feelings all the time. Schuester, for all he’s a bit of a pussy and an ass, was right about one thing. He said once we were more than a glee club. We’re a family. A team, and you’re my team which means the only ones who get to fuck with you all is me.”
Rachel clapped and jumped off her perch next to Puck on the piano to run over and give her a tight hug. Santana grumbled a bit just to keep up appearances. Still, she wrapped her arms around her munchkin, much as she had the day she found Rachel in the bathroom. Brittany came over and hugged them both from behind. She gave Puck a ‘don’t even think about it’ look, and stared down the rest of the club to make sure they didn’t get any idea’s. After a few moments, Hummel decided to break slightly awkward silence.
“Ok, we get it Lopez. You’re a badass and no one messes with what’s yours.” Brittany let go as the other Cheerio in the room spoke and bounced back over to her chair. Santana felt like grinning at Kurt, though obviously she repressed the urge, for understanding her enough to let the Latina know they were with her without any more sappiness.
“So, now that your done doing your best impression of our resident diva, what exactly is the plan from here on out?” Here, Santana did grin. This time it was feral, the grin of a wolf finally circling its prey. Still, for all her anger at the Cheerios and her excitement and the distinct possibility of the win, she didn’t let go of Berry until she finished her briefing of the others and they were forced to part ways for fifth period.
The rest of the day was cake. Almost all the JV players had been converted, and by sixth period Brittany had turned almost all of the Cheerio’s. Four freshman, a Sophmore and two juniors were left opposing her. Karofsky had many of the Varsity Jocks, but all of the JV and freshman teams were under her thumb, and Santana was winning just by numbers. Still, the true test would be the next day.
Despite the wins later in the day, the day was still messy one, but the ones that had converted had, once more, magically found spare uniforms back in their lockers. Sylvester gave them all suicides that day, however those with the ruined uniforms ran for two hours after Santana’s loyals and converts. They practiced the routine for nationals on the football field after that while Santana, Brittany stood watch over the others and worked on a new routine Coach had set them to teaching the other girls when the hell of Slushy Week was over. Santana had trouble concentrating as she felt Rachel’s eyes on her the entire time. The fact that Brittany was silently laughing the entire time did not help matters.
There was, of course, a meeting of the Slushy Generals (God, Santana thought with a grin, I am so turning into as big a nerd as Puckerman) at Rachel’s house again that afternoon. This time Mike and Matt were invited, and they stayed through pizza and a Rachel-suggested screening of Chicago. Needless to say, none of the boys complained after Rachel allowed a second rewind of Cellblock Tango.
Santana, Brittany and Rachel snickered at the looks on the boy’s faces as they pigged out on popcorn (one of the few snacks Sylvester allowed) and popped in another musical Rachel swore all of them would enjoy. Around midnight, after Puck had been banned from the remote for the third time after his incessant rewinding of the movie version of NINE, all three boys plus Brittany had passed out around the television.
When a sleepy Santana returned from changing in the bathroom, because damned if she was sleeping in jeans, she found Puck had fallen asleep at the foot of the couch, a blanket around him and clutching his super soaker and the remote (how the hell he got it back Santana will never know). Matt, for his part, had fallen asleep in one of the arm chairs, and Brittany had her head on Mike Chang’s shoulder and an arm wrapped around Matt’s leg (again, she did not want to know). She settled down on the large couch she was sharing with an already pajama-clad, half asleep Rachel and she laid down on her end of the couch trying not to disturb her friend.
As she started to doze off, an arm thrown over her head, she felt her companion on the couch shift, and before she knew it Rachel was next to her. The diva wedged her body between Santana and the back of the couch and snuggling into her shoulder. Startled at first, Santana shifted, but calmed down when an arm snaked its way around her waist and Rachel’s forehead found its way into the crook of her neck. She sighed and relaxed, the singer fit her body perfectly, and Santana smiled when the smaller brunette kissed her shoulder. She heard the girl’s half-whisper and the smile grew wider.
“G’night, San.” The Latina stroked the girls hair out of her eyes, wrapped the blanket better around them, and kissed the top of her diva’s head.
“Sleep well, Mi Estrella.”
Next Chapter: Day Three, Beginning of the End