No Good Deed [1/3]
Title: No Good Deed [1/3]
Pairing: Santana/Brittany, Santana/Finn
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is a direct response to the nasty spoiler-which-must-not-be-named. This, of course, is still only speculation. This was whipped up in irritation/a hurry, so apologies for mounds of mistakes.
ETA: I changed my mind and decided to make it three parts.
Spoilers: Err, I don't know. But apparently the Madonna Episode. But also everything up until this point.
It started off with cheating off of her for the Spanish midterm. Brittany had finished early because Santana had worked with her for hours helping her with conjugations the previous night. She was busy doodling a sombrero in the margins of her test when Finn tapped her shoulder.
"Can I copy?" he whispered quietly, his big brown eyes pleading. How was she supposed to say no? Quinn had been rather pissy that week and if he failed this test, he would flunk the class, effectively losing both football and his girlfriend. So, being the Good Samaritan she was, Brittany slid her paper over.
"Just give me enough time to finish all the tassels," she whispered back. She looked over her shoulder at Santana who was at this point passed out at her seat in the back of the class. After Mr. Schue separated the girls for talking too much in class, Santana had spent class bored out of her mind.
"This is like taking kindergarten again," Santana would lament every day on the way to class and Brittany would giggle and kiss her forehead.
"Just give it another month," she'd always promise, "and he'll let us sit together again." And Santana would sigh and roll her eyes.
And Brittany didn't see the dominoes of her life so neatly lined up and so ready to fall.
Finn passed her paper back to her not fifteen minutes later.
"Thanks, Britt," he smiled, "You're the best." And she shrugged it off and smiled because that was the way it was supposed to be- with everyone happy.
Then, two days later, Finn forgot his homework.
"Britt, can I copy your homework?" he asked, his big, brown eyes wide. And Quinn had gotten her first slushie facial a few hours ago, so Brittany slid her homework his way. It wasn't like she'd done it either, anyways. Santana had done it for her, claiming it was too easy and the longer time it took Brittany to do it was less "tutoring" time for the two of them. And, of course, Brittany preferred "tutoring" to homework, anyways, so she didn't object. She looked over her shoulder to see Santana staring from her seat in the back of the room. Finn passed back her paper.
"Thanks, Britt," he smiled, "You're the best." And she shrugged it off because she figured he deserved a break after the pregnancy news had broken out.
Then, all hell broke loose when Babygate broke open. Finn stopped coming to Spanish. Then, he stopped coming to Glee. Everyone wanted to ask him to come back, but no one knew how to approach such a wounded animal. So, Brittany, being a Good Samaritan, appointed herself to do it. She stopped him outside of the locker room before anyone could see them.
"You have to come back," she said quietly, her palm pressed against the wall, blocking his exit.
"She lied to me, Britt," he responded hoarsely, "my best friend and my girlfriend, Britt. I can't go back to Glee. I can't. I can't see them. I'll flip. I'll kill them. And I don't want to do that." Brittany placed a hand on his shoulder.
"At least come back to Spanish," she said softly, trying hard to ignore the tears fighting their way from behind Finn's eyes, "because if you miss another class, you're going to lose credit, and then you'll lose football." Finn chewed his lip.
"Don't you have to be at Glee?" he asked softly. She shrugged.
"Santana will cover for me. Just, think about it, please?" she replied. And she watched as his big, brown eyes widened.
"Yeah, I'll think about it," he said.
And sure enough, he was back in Spanish the next day in the seat beside hers with his typical, classic Finn smile. And, big, brown eyes wide.
"Can I copy your notes?" he asked. And she figured he'd been through enough, and she handed them over. When she looked over her shoulder, Santana was staring at her. A second set of brown eyes were suddenly upon her, searing deeply into her skull. She smiled brightly at her girlfriend best friend girlfriend, but Santana responded with a flippant eye roll. Brittany shrugged it off, though. The Cheerios had been giving Santana some heat about staying in Glee without at all bringing about disarray, so she was probably stressed, right? Or, at least, that’s what Brittany told herself.
And, maybe if she hadn’t, she could’ve stopped the toppling of her life before her eyes. But she didn’t.
The first move started a few hours later in the locker room while Santana was changing out of her sports bra and Brittany was tying her sneakers (make two bunny ears, snake goes through the hole, pull tight). Santana had been eerily silent all practice and spoke with an unusual air of seriousness.
“Anything you want to tell me, Brittany?” Santana asked through gritted teeth. Thrown off by the use of her full name, Brittany could only shake her head. Santana looked as though she were a reservoir filling to the brim, about to flood. Her eyes darkened.
“Nothing? You sure?” She asked. Brittany furrowed her eyebrows.
“I love you?” Santana pulled her t-shirt over her head and slammed the locker door shut.
“I have to go,” she muttered. Santana walked away without even waiting for a response, leaving Brittany with her jaw unhinged and more confused than normal.
So, after a night without contact from Santana, it was kind of a relief to sit down in Mr. Schue’s Spanish class to see Finn’s smiling face beside her.
“Hey, Britt!” he greeted her, big, brown eyes wide. And she smiled at him because at least he was happy.
“Do you have the homework?” he asked. And, for once, Brittany had to shake her head.
“Usually Santana helps me,” she admitted.
“Oh,” Finn replied, “yeah, I heard she and Puck were pretty busy last night. It’s okay. I’ll see if Matt has his.” And Brittany’s heart sunk as she looked over her shoulder at the empty seat in the back of the room.
“Oh,” she whispered quietly.
So, it was awkward as Brittany sat in Glee, praying for the tension in the room to dissipate. What used to feel so much like a family suddenly had her feeling more isolated than she had felt in her entire lifetime. When a clearly tipsy Santana stumbled into the room wrapped around Puck, the room went silent. Across the room, both Quinn and Finn’s eyes darkened. And Brittany could only watch the giggling, drunk couple make their way to the chairs.
“Hey, babe,” Puck slurred, winking at Quinn, who could only look upon him in utter disgust. As if an instinct of some sort, Quinn’s hands crossed over her stomach.
“Noah,” she replied darkly. He grinned and slumped into the seat in front of him. And Brittany could only watch as Finn gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
Santana stumbled to the chair beside Brittany.
“Hey, slut,” she grinned, the stench of alcohol like a wall.
“S, how much did you drink?” Brittany asked, her heart in her throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Santana replied, her consonants slurring together. She swayed, nearly toppling over. Brittany reached out, grabbing her arm, trying to stabilize her.
“Hey, hey, hey, B, I didn’t think you’d be the public type,” Santana giggled. Brittany’s fingers clenched as she resisted slapping Santana across the face.
“What is wrong with you?” Brittany hissed.
“What’s wrong with you?” Santana bellowed, causing the entire club to turn toward them. Before, Brittany could even respond, Santana had replied.
“Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” she screamed and stumbled her way out of the Glee room. And, completely dumbfounded, Brittany could only watch as Santana stumbled away.
So, she can’t honestly say she was incredibly surprised when one week later, she found Santana on top of Finn in the Glee room after school. The ten seconds of grunting and moaning she heard was enough to let her know what was going on. And this time, she could not watch, so she ran. She ran away to the Cheerios locker room and slammed herself against a wall and collapsed and let the sobs shaking inside of her burst free. And she let out coarse sob after sob as she felt what had to be her heart snapping inside of her.
And it’s weird the next day in Spanish when Finn has his big Finn-like grin on his face and he smiles at Brittany like he’s king of the world and he looks over his shoulder at Santana who smirks back at him and winks. And Brittany nearly throws up until Santana stares at her and all Brittany can see in her eyes are pieces of crumbling weakness, and the pain is suddenly replaced by a burning anger.
She explodes in the library when Santana, who isn’t even there to help her, looks over her shoulder and says, “The second one should be ‘jugar’, not ‘sombrero’, B.” She can’t help it. It’s as though her body isn’t even hers for a second as she stands up, turns around, and smacks Santana -hard- across the face.
“Puta madre,” Santana hisses, “Fine. Get a zero on your homework. See if I care.” But that only makes the pain worse. Brittany lets out a huff and sweeps her books into her bag.
“I hate you,” slips out of the blonde’s mouth by complete accident, and Santana freezes and her eyes widen and Brittany swears she hears Santana breaking apart inside her head.
“You don’t mean that,” Santana whispers softly, her brown eyes filled to the brim with vulnerability.
“What if I do?” Brittany can’t help but snip as she slings her bag over her shoulder. Santana reaches for Brittany’s hand.
“You don’t,” she whispers softly again. And she doesn’t, and looking into Santana’s heart broken eyes, she can’t help but feel that same tug, that same love she’s always felt. But when Finn comes into the library to return a book, the anger comes right back, and she can not help but shove past Santana, making sure to make their shoulders collide roughly against each other.
“Fuck you, Lopez.”
Brittany makes it all the way to the parking lot before the anger subsides and her shoulders unclench. And, of course, this is the moment Santana grabs her shoulder and turns her around.
“Take it back, B,” she begs, “take it back before it’s too late.” Everything in her head tells Brittany to take it back, to pull her girlfriend best friend ex-girlfriend everything- to pull her back into her arms and wish the world away. But, instead, she doesn’t.
“Finn, Santana,” Brittany spits out, “You fucked Finn. You fucked up.” Santana grimaces noticeably, the fire back in her eyes.
“He didn’t mean anything. I only fucked him so you couldn’t first,” she spits right back, her eyes hardening. Brittany can not help but let out a scoff of disbelief.
“What the hell are you talking about, Santana?” Brittany snaps.
“Don’t play dumb. Every day in Spanish you are fucking him with your eyes.”
“He’s my friend, Santana!” Brittany growls, “I’m sorry that’s such a foreign concept to a complete and frigid bitch like you.” And once again, Santana’s guard shatters. For a moment, Brittany almost feels sorry as she watches emotion well up inside of the Latina.
“I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Santana insists, “and it’s not the way you look at a friend.” Brittany rolls her eyes.
“I’m not interested in Finn. Why would I be interested in Finn? Unlike you, I try not to go after Quinn’s leftovers.” And then Brittany feels her face explode. When she opens her eyes, she is on her back on the parking lot tar, staring at an angry Santana with a bloody fist.
“We’re done,” Santana hisses.
“Good,” Brittany replies. And Brittany does nothing but watch as Santana walks away. She finds herself at least assuring herself that the worst part is over, but the truth is, the trail of toppling dominoes has only just begun to fall.
Part 2
Part 3
Pairing: Santana/Brittany, Santana/Finn
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is a direct response to the nasty spoiler-which-must-not-be-named. This, of course, is still only speculation. This was whipped up in irritation/a hurry, so apologies for mounds of mistakes.
ETA: I changed my mind and decided to make it three parts.
Spoilers: Err, I don't know. But apparently the Madonna Episode. But also everything up until this point.
It started off with cheating off of her for the Spanish midterm. Brittany had finished early because Santana had worked with her for hours helping her with conjugations the previous night. She was busy doodling a sombrero in the margins of her test when Finn tapped her shoulder.
"Can I copy?" he whispered quietly, his big brown eyes pleading. How was she supposed to say no? Quinn had been rather pissy that week and if he failed this test, he would flunk the class, effectively losing both football and his girlfriend. So, being the Good Samaritan she was, Brittany slid her paper over.
"Just give me enough time to finish all the tassels," she whispered back. She looked over her shoulder at Santana who was at this point passed out at her seat in the back of the class. After Mr. Schue separated the girls for talking too much in class, Santana had spent class bored out of her mind.
"This is like taking kindergarten again," Santana would lament every day on the way to class and Brittany would giggle and kiss her forehead.
"Just give it another month," she'd always promise, "and he'll let us sit together again." And Santana would sigh and roll her eyes.
And Brittany didn't see the dominoes of her life so neatly lined up and so ready to fall.
Finn passed her paper back to her not fifteen minutes later.
"Thanks, Britt," he smiled, "You're the best." And she shrugged it off and smiled because that was the way it was supposed to be- with everyone happy.
Then, two days later, Finn forgot his homework.
"Britt, can I copy your homework?" he asked, his big, brown eyes wide. And Quinn had gotten her first slushie facial a few hours ago, so Brittany slid her homework his way. It wasn't like she'd done it either, anyways. Santana had done it for her, claiming it was too easy and the longer time it took Brittany to do it was less "tutoring" time for the two of them. And, of course, Brittany preferred "tutoring" to homework, anyways, so she didn't object. She looked over her shoulder to see Santana staring from her seat in the back of the room. Finn passed back her paper.
"Thanks, Britt," he smiled, "You're the best." And she shrugged it off because she figured he deserved a break after the pregnancy news had broken out.
Then, all hell broke loose when Babygate broke open. Finn stopped coming to Spanish. Then, he stopped coming to Glee. Everyone wanted to ask him to come back, but no one knew how to approach such a wounded animal. So, Brittany, being a Good Samaritan, appointed herself to do it. She stopped him outside of the locker room before anyone could see them.
"You have to come back," she said quietly, her palm pressed against the wall, blocking his exit.
"She lied to me, Britt," he responded hoarsely, "my best friend and my girlfriend, Britt. I can't go back to Glee. I can't. I can't see them. I'll flip. I'll kill them. And I don't want to do that." Brittany placed a hand on his shoulder.
"At least come back to Spanish," she said softly, trying hard to ignore the tears fighting their way from behind Finn's eyes, "because if you miss another class, you're going to lose credit, and then you'll lose football." Finn chewed his lip.
"Don't you have to be at Glee?" he asked softly. She shrugged.
"Santana will cover for me. Just, think about it, please?" she replied. And she watched as his big, brown eyes widened.
"Yeah, I'll think about it," he said.
And sure enough, he was back in Spanish the next day in the seat beside hers with his typical, classic Finn smile. And, big, brown eyes wide.
"Can I copy your notes?" he asked. And she figured he'd been through enough, and she handed them over. When she looked over her shoulder, Santana was staring at her. A second set of brown eyes were suddenly upon her, searing deeply into her skull. She smiled brightly at her girlfriend best friend girlfriend, but Santana responded with a flippant eye roll. Brittany shrugged it off, though. The Cheerios had been giving Santana some heat about staying in Glee without at all bringing about disarray, so she was probably stressed, right? Or, at least, that’s what Brittany told herself.
And, maybe if she hadn’t, she could’ve stopped the toppling of her life before her eyes. But she didn’t.
The first move started a few hours later in the locker room while Santana was changing out of her sports bra and Brittany was tying her sneakers (make two bunny ears, snake goes through the hole, pull tight). Santana had been eerily silent all practice and spoke with an unusual air of seriousness.
“Anything you want to tell me, Brittany?” Santana asked through gritted teeth. Thrown off by the use of her full name, Brittany could only shake her head. Santana looked as though she were a reservoir filling to the brim, about to flood. Her eyes darkened.
“Nothing? You sure?” She asked. Brittany furrowed her eyebrows.
“I love you?” Santana pulled her t-shirt over her head and slammed the locker door shut.
“I have to go,” she muttered. Santana walked away without even waiting for a response, leaving Brittany with her jaw unhinged and more confused than normal.
So, after a night without contact from Santana, it was kind of a relief to sit down in Mr. Schue’s Spanish class to see Finn’s smiling face beside her.
“Hey, Britt!” he greeted her, big, brown eyes wide. And she smiled at him because at least he was happy.
“Do you have the homework?” he asked. And, for once, Brittany had to shake her head.
“Usually Santana helps me,” she admitted.
“Oh,” Finn replied, “yeah, I heard she and Puck were pretty busy last night. It’s okay. I’ll see if Matt has his.” And Brittany’s heart sunk as she looked over her shoulder at the empty seat in the back of the room.
“Oh,” she whispered quietly.
So, it was awkward as Brittany sat in Glee, praying for the tension in the room to dissipate. What used to feel so much like a family suddenly had her feeling more isolated than she had felt in her entire lifetime. When a clearly tipsy Santana stumbled into the room wrapped around Puck, the room went silent. Across the room, both Quinn and Finn’s eyes darkened. And Brittany could only watch the giggling, drunk couple make their way to the chairs.
“Hey, babe,” Puck slurred, winking at Quinn, who could only look upon him in utter disgust. As if an instinct of some sort, Quinn’s hands crossed over her stomach.
“Noah,” she replied darkly. He grinned and slumped into the seat in front of him. And Brittany could only watch as Finn gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
Santana stumbled to the chair beside Brittany.
“Hey, slut,” she grinned, the stench of alcohol like a wall.
“S, how much did you drink?” Brittany asked, her heart in her throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Santana replied, her consonants slurring together. She swayed, nearly toppling over. Brittany reached out, grabbing her arm, trying to stabilize her.
“Hey, hey, hey, B, I didn’t think you’d be the public type,” Santana giggled. Brittany’s fingers clenched as she resisted slapping Santana across the face.
“What is wrong with you?” Brittany hissed.
“What’s wrong with you?” Santana bellowed, causing the entire club to turn toward them. Before, Brittany could even respond, Santana had replied.
“Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” she screamed and stumbled her way out of the Glee room. And, completely dumbfounded, Brittany could only watch as Santana stumbled away.
So, she can’t honestly say she was incredibly surprised when one week later, she found Santana on top of Finn in the Glee room after school. The ten seconds of grunting and moaning she heard was enough to let her know what was going on. And this time, she could not watch, so she ran. She ran away to the Cheerios locker room and slammed herself against a wall and collapsed and let the sobs shaking inside of her burst free. And she let out coarse sob after sob as she felt what had to be her heart snapping inside of her.
And it’s weird the next day in Spanish when Finn has his big Finn-like grin on his face and he smiles at Brittany like he’s king of the world and he looks over his shoulder at Santana who smirks back at him and winks. And Brittany nearly throws up until Santana stares at her and all Brittany can see in her eyes are pieces of crumbling weakness, and the pain is suddenly replaced by a burning anger.
She explodes in the library when Santana, who isn’t even there to help her, looks over her shoulder and says, “The second one should be ‘jugar’, not ‘sombrero’, B.” She can’t help it. It’s as though her body isn’t even hers for a second as she stands up, turns around, and smacks Santana -hard- across the face.
“Puta madre,” Santana hisses, “Fine. Get a zero on your homework. See if I care.” But that only makes the pain worse. Brittany lets out a huff and sweeps her books into her bag.
“I hate you,” slips out of the blonde’s mouth by complete accident, and Santana freezes and her eyes widen and Brittany swears she hears Santana breaking apart inside her head.
“You don’t mean that,” Santana whispers softly, her brown eyes filled to the brim with vulnerability.
“What if I do?” Brittany can’t help but snip as she slings her bag over her shoulder. Santana reaches for Brittany’s hand.
“You don’t,” she whispers softly again. And she doesn’t, and looking into Santana’s heart broken eyes, she can’t help but feel that same tug, that same love she’s always felt. But when Finn comes into the library to return a book, the anger comes right back, and she can not help but shove past Santana, making sure to make their shoulders collide roughly against each other.
“Fuck you, Lopez.”
Brittany makes it all the way to the parking lot before the anger subsides and her shoulders unclench. And, of course, this is the moment Santana grabs her shoulder and turns her around.
“Take it back, B,” she begs, “take it back before it’s too late.” Everything in her head tells Brittany to take it back, to pull her girlfriend best friend ex-girlfriend everything- to pull her back into her arms and wish the world away. But, instead, she doesn’t.
“Finn, Santana,” Brittany spits out, “You fucked Finn. You fucked up.” Santana grimaces noticeably, the fire back in her eyes.
“He didn’t mean anything. I only fucked him so you couldn’t first,” she spits right back, her eyes hardening. Brittany can not help but let out a scoff of disbelief.
“What the hell are you talking about, Santana?” Brittany snaps.
“Don’t play dumb. Every day in Spanish you are fucking him with your eyes.”
“He’s my friend, Santana!” Brittany growls, “I’m sorry that’s such a foreign concept to a complete and frigid bitch like you.” And once again, Santana’s guard shatters. For a moment, Brittany almost feels sorry as she watches emotion well up inside of the Latina.
“I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Santana insists, “and it’s not the way you look at a friend.” Brittany rolls her eyes.
“I’m not interested in Finn. Why would I be interested in Finn? Unlike you, I try not to go after Quinn’s leftovers.” And then Brittany feels her face explode. When she opens her eyes, she is on her back on the parking lot tar, staring at an angry Santana with a bloody fist.
“We’re done,” Santana hisses.
“Good,” Brittany replies. And Brittany does nothing but watch as Santana walks away. She finds herself at least assuring herself that the worst part is over, but the truth is, the trail of toppling dominoes has only just begun to fall.
Part 2
Part 3