Baseball Bat
Title: Baseball Bat
Pairing: Santana/Brittany, Naya/Heather
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Santana’s been sick for nearly a week and she is not pleased when she hears news about Brittany on Monday.
Spoilers: Laryngitis [1x18]
Author's Note: So how about that new promo? This kind of came from my initial reaction and then after calming down I came up with this. LOL. [I blame the crack-head plot bunnies that are hopping around]
It’s been seven straight days that I’ve posted up a fic. Huh. Maybe I should take a break. Haha.
My Master Fic List
The clouds are dark outside and Santana’s buried deep underneath her covers with a splitting headache and a fever. Her mom won’t allow anyone to see her because she’s highly contagious and this is the time in her life she wishes the Lopez household wasn’t always so busy. The whole house has always been loud and joyful but at this time, all the noise is not helping with the construction workers that are busy drilling cement blocks in her brain.
Santana is in a big family and she’s lucky enough to have her own bedroom [that’s because she’s the only daughter in the family] unlike her brothers. Speaking of brothers [five to be exact], she wishes they all would go to hell because after her mom deemed her room a toxic hazard, they had this stupid idea to steal her phone and hide it from her and she hasn’t seen Brittany in so long.
She’s been sick since Wednesday; coughing, sneezing, throwing up, and just feeling like shit. It’s Saturday and it’s not as bad as it was three days ago but her mom still refuses to let her see anyone [including Brittany].
Her fever has finally gone down some but her Mami wants her to rest one more day and if she’s okay on Sunday, she can go to school the day after. Santana lets out a groan at the thought of Coach Sylvester frying her ass for missing so many days of practice and she can feel her whole body aching from imagining her extra laps and crunches. She feels pitiful and this splitting headache won’t go away, the Latina closes her eyes and hopes that she’ll get better real soon [because she really misses her best friend].
Monday rolls around and Santana is as good as new; no more headaches, no more sniffles, no more throwing up, but extremely Brittany deprived [her brothers still haven’t given her phone back]. She makes her way through the halls and scowls at anyone who gets in her way. The Latina’s always had Brittany with her and the longest they’ve ever been apart is at night when they actually have to sleep in their own homes. But this? It’s nearly been a week and Santana feels all too grumpy.
A freshman makes a hushed comment that still reaches Santana’s ears, “She must be pissed ‘cause she hasn’t seen her girlfriend in so long.” Santana nearly snaps the girls head off before she gets to her locker and nearly kicks the locker underneath hers when the blonde girl is nowhere in sight. Hushed whispers surround her and she begins to shake in anger when they don’t stop.
One whisper causes her to stop, “Yeah, I heard Kurt made out with Brittany Saturday night.” The tanned young woman slowly turns her head and you can literally feel the heat that’s emanating from her. She grabs the jock by the collar and slams him up against the metal sheets of a nearby locker, “What’d you say?”
The teenage boy looks like he’s about to piss in his pants as he stutters, “Rumors are the Kurt Hummel rounded second base with your girl.” Santana lifts him from against the locker and slams him back, her arm pressing against his neck, “What?” The jock is losing air circulation and his face is turning blue, he somehow manages to say, “Yeah, at his house. That’s all I know.”
Santana’s eyes turn a pitch black, “That fag…” before she shoves the jock aside, causing him to hit a trashcan and stumble against some nearby Cheerios. Everyone around her can feel the temperature in the hallway rise and their fear of the Latina grow. “Oh shit, she’s pissed…”
Brittany rounds the corner with a little skip and she smiles at Santana for a brief moment before noticing the angry look on the other girl’s face. She doesn’t know whether to associate her with an angry bull, ready to charge, or a mad pit bull, foaming at the mouth.
All Santana sees is red. Partly, the red she’s seeing is from the short Cheerios skirt and her eyes devour the amount of skin Brittany’s showing. Mostly, the red she’s seeing is from wanting to murder Kurt Hummel.
The shorter Cheerio takes three strides before she has Brittany up against the locker. Normally, Santana is gentle with Brittany when they’re in bed but the blonde girl can’t help get a little turned on because Santana’s using force on her and it’s kind of sexy.
Santana is growling but Brittany is getting dizzy from their close proximity; their bodies are almost flush against each other, the cold locker pressing against her back, the hot breath coming from her best friend’s mouth, and the fact that everyone’s watching this is getting her excited.
Brittany kind of forgets that Santana is angry because she hasn’t seen Santana since last Wednesday and she has her own Santana withdrawal. Santana presses even closer to her and Brittany nearly moans when their thighs touch. A growl reaches her ears and Brittany can barely focus on Santana’s growled out questions, “Is it true?”
“Is what true, S?” the blonde asks breathlessly.
Santana presses against Brittany and lowly says, “Did Hummel make out with you Saturday night?”
“We did…”
Brittany felt the cold rush of air when Santana pushed off from her and she scrambled to explain herself before Kurt would be pounded to death. “Santana, wait! We sorted out things Saturday night!” she said, thinking back to their deep conversation afterwards of it being okay for Kurt to be kissing guys because his dad would love him for being his son, period.
The students in the hallway parted like the red sea, making a straight path for Santana towards Kurt who was currently at his locker with Mercedes. Brittany desperately followed and caught the eyes of Puck and Finn, silently begging them to stop her best friend.
“Hummel,” Santana says with such distaste as she’s rapidly approaching him.
“Kurt, she looks like she’s gonna cut someone,” Mercedes says with wide eyes.
The distance between the two of them grows significantly smaller and Kurt has a look of a trapped squirrel in a cage with a mad dog. Santana has her hands on his shirt and slams him painfully against his locker, leaving a Kurt-sized dent on the door.
Kurt whimpers and before Santana can do more damage, Puck and Finn intervene. They have the hotheaded Latina in their arms and she shakes in fury. “Let go.” Puck refuses, “Hell no, Lopez. If we let you go we’ll never see Hummel again.”
“That’s the point,” the Cheerio grits out. “I’m gonna fucking whack him in the head with a baseball bat!” She struggles in their grip before she elbows Finn in the ribs and pushes Puck off of her. The lights then flicker out and the clouds outside become darker, the sound of thunder in the nearby distance.
There’s a house party at Mark’s and everyone’s pretty much drunk or getting there. Heather and Chris are seated on the couch and having a pretty animated conversation going on. Naya was with Dianna only minutes ago but she disappeared to get something from Mark’s room.
“Naya, what the hell are you doing with a bat?” Cory’s voice is heard and everyone’s heads snap up to see Naya stumbling in from the hallway with a rather heavy looking baseball bat.
She’s obviously wasted because of her lack of coordination and the unfocused look in her eye, “Lemme through. I’m gonna fucking…” Naya takes a step forward and has the baseball bat raised high, her unsteady feet carrying her to the couch. Everyone’s eyes go wide when they realize she’s about to swing.
“…whack him in the head with a baseball bat,” she finishes before clumsily swinging the bat at Chris. Chris manages to duck and all the guys are trying to get the bat away from the young woman.
Naya’s mumbling under her breath, “Fooling around with my woman. I’m gonna fucking cut him.” Her eyes are hazy and everyone let’s out a sigh of relief when she passes out on the couch, her head in Heather’s lap.
Heather gathers up the deadweight of her girlfriend in her lap and looks down at her with a small smile and shakes her head in amusement before gently kissing Naya’s lips. The blonde dancer straightens up and looks pointedly around the room, “Alright, who the hell got Naya wasted?”
A/N: So I totally made myself crack up as I was writing this. With that new promo out I was busy laughing and then wanting to whack Kurt in the head with a baseball bat because he got to make out with Brittany [yes, I’m being jealous, sue me].
This sort of just came out and I hope it’s amusing at some point. I’m heading out for an impromptu family trip so no new stories for a few days [I’m just surprised I’ve been writing for a week].
Remember, comment/review because those make my day.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany, Naya/Heather
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Santana’s been sick for nearly a week and she is not pleased when she hears news about Brittany on Monday.
Spoilers: Laryngitis [1x18]
Author's Note: So how about that new promo? This kind of came from my initial reaction and then after calming down I came up with this. LOL. [I blame the crack-head plot bunnies that are hopping around]
It’s been seven straight days that I’ve posted up a fic. Huh. Maybe I should take a break. Haha.
My Master Fic List
The clouds are dark outside and Santana’s buried deep underneath her covers with a splitting headache and a fever. Her mom won’t allow anyone to see her because she’s highly contagious and this is the time in her life she wishes the Lopez household wasn’t always so busy. The whole house has always been loud and joyful but at this time, all the noise is not helping with the construction workers that are busy drilling cement blocks in her brain.
Santana is in a big family and she’s lucky enough to have her own bedroom [that’s because she’s the only daughter in the family] unlike her brothers. Speaking of brothers [five to be exact], she wishes they all would go to hell because after her mom deemed her room a toxic hazard, they had this stupid idea to steal her phone and hide it from her and she hasn’t seen Brittany in so long.
She’s been sick since Wednesday; coughing, sneezing, throwing up, and just feeling like shit. It’s Saturday and it’s not as bad as it was three days ago but her mom still refuses to let her see anyone [including Brittany].
Her fever has finally gone down some but her Mami wants her to rest one more day and if she’s okay on Sunday, she can go to school the day after. Santana lets out a groan at the thought of Coach Sylvester frying her ass for missing so many days of practice and she can feel her whole body aching from imagining her extra laps and crunches. She feels pitiful and this splitting headache won’t go away, the Latina closes her eyes and hopes that she’ll get better real soon [because she really misses her best friend].
Monday rolls around and Santana is as good as new; no more headaches, no more sniffles, no more throwing up, but extremely Brittany deprived [her brothers still haven’t given her phone back]. She makes her way through the halls and scowls at anyone who gets in her way. The Latina’s always had Brittany with her and the longest they’ve ever been apart is at night when they actually have to sleep in their own homes. But this? It’s nearly been a week and Santana feels all too grumpy.
A freshman makes a hushed comment that still reaches Santana’s ears, “She must be pissed ‘cause she hasn’t seen her girlfriend in so long.” Santana nearly snaps the girls head off before she gets to her locker and nearly kicks the locker underneath hers when the blonde girl is nowhere in sight. Hushed whispers surround her and she begins to shake in anger when they don’t stop.
One whisper causes her to stop, “Yeah, I heard Kurt made out with Brittany Saturday night.” The tanned young woman slowly turns her head and you can literally feel the heat that’s emanating from her. She grabs the jock by the collar and slams him up against the metal sheets of a nearby locker, “What’d you say?”
The teenage boy looks like he’s about to piss in his pants as he stutters, “Rumors are the Kurt Hummel rounded second base with your girl.” Santana lifts him from against the locker and slams him back, her arm pressing against his neck, “What?” The jock is losing air circulation and his face is turning blue, he somehow manages to say, “Yeah, at his house. That’s all I know.”
Santana’s eyes turn a pitch black, “That fag…” before she shoves the jock aside, causing him to hit a trashcan and stumble against some nearby Cheerios. Everyone around her can feel the temperature in the hallway rise and their fear of the Latina grow. “Oh shit, she’s pissed…”
Brittany rounds the corner with a little skip and she smiles at Santana for a brief moment before noticing the angry look on the other girl’s face. She doesn’t know whether to associate her with an angry bull, ready to charge, or a mad pit bull, foaming at the mouth.
All Santana sees is red. Partly, the red she’s seeing is from the short Cheerios skirt and her eyes devour the amount of skin Brittany’s showing. Mostly, the red she’s seeing is from wanting to murder Kurt Hummel.
The shorter Cheerio takes three strides before she has Brittany up against the locker. Normally, Santana is gentle with Brittany when they’re in bed but the blonde girl can’t help get a little turned on because Santana’s using force on her and it’s kind of sexy.
Santana is growling but Brittany is getting dizzy from their close proximity; their bodies are almost flush against each other, the cold locker pressing against her back, the hot breath coming from her best friend’s mouth, and the fact that everyone’s watching this is getting her excited.
Brittany kind of forgets that Santana is angry because she hasn’t seen Santana since last Wednesday and she has her own Santana withdrawal. Santana presses even closer to her and Brittany nearly moans when their thighs touch. A growl reaches her ears and Brittany can barely focus on Santana’s growled out questions, “Is it true?”
“Is what true, S?” the blonde asks breathlessly.
Santana presses against Brittany and lowly says, “Did Hummel make out with you Saturday night?”
“We did…”
Brittany felt the cold rush of air when Santana pushed off from her and she scrambled to explain herself before Kurt would be pounded to death. “Santana, wait! We sorted out things Saturday night!” she said, thinking back to their deep conversation afterwards of it being okay for Kurt to be kissing guys because his dad would love him for being his son, period.
The students in the hallway parted like the red sea, making a straight path for Santana towards Kurt who was currently at his locker with Mercedes. Brittany desperately followed and caught the eyes of Puck and Finn, silently begging them to stop her best friend.
“Hummel,” Santana says with such distaste as she’s rapidly approaching him.
“Kurt, she looks like she’s gonna cut someone,” Mercedes says with wide eyes.
The distance between the two of them grows significantly smaller and Kurt has a look of a trapped squirrel in a cage with a mad dog. Santana has her hands on his shirt and slams him painfully against his locker, leaving a Kurt-sized dent on the door.
Kurt whimpers and before Santana can do more damage, Puck and Finn intervene. They have the hotheaded Latina in their arms and she shakes in fury. “Let go.” Puck refuses, “Hell no, Lopez. If we let you go we’ll never see Hummel again.”
“That’s the point,” the Cheerio grits out. “I’m gonna fucking whack him in the head with a baseball bat!” She struggles in their grip before she elbows Finn in the ribs and pushes Puck off of her. The lights then flicker out and the clouds outside become darker, the sound of thunder in the nearby distance.
There’s a house party at Mark’s and everyone’s pretty much drunk or getting there. Heather and Chris are seated on the couch and having a pretty animated conversation going on. Naya was with Dianna only minutes ago but she disappeared to get something from Mark’s room.
“Naya, what the hell are you doing with a bat?” Cory’s voice is heard and everyone’s heads snap up to see Naya stumbling in from the hallway with a rather heavy looking baseball bat.
She’s obviously wasted because of her lack of coordination and the unfocused look in her eye, “Lemme through. I’m gonna fucking…” Naya takes a step forward and has the baseball bat raised high, her unsteady feet carrying her to the couch. Everyone’s eyes go wide when they realize she’s about to swing.
“…whack him in the head with a baseball bat,” she finishes before clumsily swinging the bat at Chris. Chris manages to duck and all the guys are trying to get the bat away from the young woman.
Naya’s mumbling under her breath, “Fooling around with my woman. I’m gonna fucking cut him.” Her eyes are hazy and everyone let’s out a sigh of relief when she passes out on the couch, her head in Heather’s lap.
Heather gathers up the deadweight of her girlfriend in her lap and looks down at her with a small smile and shakes her head in amusement before gently kissing Naya’s lips. The blonde dancer straightens up and looks pointedly around the room, “Alright, who the hell got Naya wasted?”
A/N: So I totally made myself crack up as I was writing this. With that new promo out I was busy laughing and then wanting to whack Kurt in the head with a baseball bat because he got to make out with Brittany [yes, I’m being jealous, sue me].
This sort of just came out and I hope it’s amusing at some point. I’m heading out for an impromptu family trip so no new stories for a few days [I’m just surprised I’ve been writing for a week].
Remember, comment/review because those make my day.