Teenage Mutant Ninja...Teenagers
Title: Teenage Mutant Ninja...Teenagers
Pairings: Santana/Brittany, side Rachel/Quinn
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~4,300
Summary: Santana was absolutely sure Halloween would be a disaster.
Author's Note: Happy Halloween =)
Art: Santana and Spider-Man | The OT4 by volcano89 @ Tumblr
Santana loved Halloween. For the last three years, ever since Brittany’s mother had finally put a stop to the teens going out trick-or-treating because they were too old, Santana and Brittany always chose that night to stay in and do the whole scary movies cliché. They would raid Santana’s brothers’ stash of classic horror films and settle down in Santana’s basement with popcorn, chips and dip, candy, soda, and any other junk food they could find in their afternoon trip to Wal-Mart. It was more often than not followed by sex. One year with edible body paint. That was a really good year.
This year, though, it was going to be…well, if Santana could describe it in one word it would be “horrific”. Why? Because since she and Quinn reconciled their differences as much as they could (at the insistence of Brittany) it meant that Quinn was going to be with them. To top it all off, Quinn had come crashing out of the closet with none other than the single most annoying person on the planet. No, not Justin Bieber. (Even though he was still an annoying little shit after puberty hit him like a train. If she had to hear a two-octave-lower version of ‘Baby’ one more time she was going to kill someone.) No, this was much wor- Okay, no one was as bad as that kid. But Gold Star Berry with her hideous animal sweaters was pretty damn close.
Rachel, as Quinn insisted Santana call her, had demanded that the foursome dress up and go out that year. Santana spat that just because Rachel could still pass for an eight year old didn’t mean they all could. The bruise on her shin where Quinn kicked her under the table lasted for a week and a half. Rachel had rolled her eyes and said that of course they wouldn’t be going trick-or-treating but instead going to the community center to volunteer with the “child-safe festivities that provide an alternative to the dangers of walking in the dark and taking candy from strangers”. Brittany was ecstatic which meant Santana grudgingly agreed.
Now, normally, when someone says “you don’t have to worry about the costumes”, Santana doesn’t worry. When Rachel Berry says, “don’t fret about the costumes, Santana. I have something chosen that reflects each of our individual interests and personalities” it means she’s completely and utterly screwed.
-*-*-*-*-*-
“Costume fitting this evening at five, Santana. We have to be at the community center by seven!” Rachel chirped as she rushed passed on her way to class. It was Friday and technically three days before Halloween but the Lima City Council had chosen a Friday night rather than Monday for trick-or-treating and whatever was going on at the community center. “Tardiness is unacceptable!”
Quinn followed more slowly and stopped at Santana’s locker with a smirk. A smirk that meant trouble.
“What does your psycho girlfriend have planned, Q? Seriously, this is my senior year and I’m not going as a group of Barbra Streisands or something.”
“Don’t worry, you get a weapon.”
Before Santana could ask any further details (because, while she did enjoy weapons, she didn’t want to be stuck with some sissy thing like mace or some shit; Santana Lopez was too fucking badass for that) Quinn turned and walked off, calling to Rachel as she went. Santana just scowled and turned to go to gym. At least she’d get to release some pent up frustration that day. They were playing dodgeball and Santana was determined to beat the previous week’s record of sending five other girls to the nurse’s office with something bleeding, bruised, or fractured. She succeeded.
Brittany was practically a bubble of excitement all day. She’d gone through about a million and a half different costume ideas that Rachel might have picked for them including, but not limited to: rocks, chickens, the characters from Dora the Explorer, pieces of fruit, school supplies, and fish. Brittany was sincerely hoping for rocks. Santana only smiled and nodded, as she always did.
-*-*-*-*-*-
“Michelangelo?”
“No, Quinn, Leonardo!”
Santana quirked an eyebrow as she and Brittany approached the bickering couple in the hallway just after the last bell rang.
“Are you seriously arguing about art history or some shit?” Santana snorted. “Losers.”
Rachel’s face was panicked for a moment before she smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Art history is a very fascinating subject. Quinn and I were discussing the Renaissance!”
“Whatever. Still five, right? There better be food involved.”
Rachel opened her mouth to speak but Santana held and hand up to cut her off.
“No rabbit food.”
“I once ate my rabbit’s food. It tasted like dog food.”
“I told you to stop doing that, B.”
“Tastes good.”
Santana gave a quick nod before turning back to a very confused looking Rachel. “Real food, Berry. Stuff that comes from animals.”
“I suppose that, because of your willingness to participate in my scheduled Halloween activities, that I can acquiesce to your request of slaughtering innocent animals for-“
“Great. Pepperoni pizza. See you at five.”
For once, Santana wished that Cheerios practice would run at least a little over in order to stall having to go to Rachel’s to find out what hideous costumes she had planned. Unfortunately for her, Sylvester mentioned something about a mother/daughter Nazi hunt that evening and called practice half an hour early. Quinn was no help either, the little bitch called Rachel just after she finished her shower and said they’d be coming over early. Santana had no choice but to go along with it.
“I hate you,” she mumbled as she passed Quinn to get to her locker.
“It’s not going to be that bad, Santana. Weapons, remember?”
“They better be sharp or capable of firing something.”
“You and Rachel in the same room with functional weapons? I’ll let Jacob Ben Israel onto the Cheerios before that happens.”
Santana grumbled and pulled on her street clothes before slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder and taking Brittany’s pinky to follow Quinn out of the locker room. There was no possible way that this was going to end well.
The ride to Rachel’s would’ve been much better if Quinn (smarter than she looked) hadn’t known that Santana would’ve pulled the “I got lost” card in order to avoid getting there and insisted that they all ride together. Santana sat in the back seat, scowling, as Brittany swayed to the radio and Quinn again called Rachel to let her know they were on the way. Figuring she could get a little payback and some fun with her girlfriend, Santana leaned over and kissed down Brittany’s jaw and ran one hand up her thigh.
“San…”
“Shhh.”
“If you two do that in my back seat I will put you on the bottom of the pyramid for the rest of the year.”
Any other threat would’ve made Santana scoff but not this one. This threat was just plain fucking cruel. The bottom of the pyramid was torture and she wasn’t going back to it. Ever. After a few mumbled choice words she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. Fucking Fabray the Twat Swat.
Rachel’s house, shockingly, wasn’t painted like a giant pride flag and didn’t have an altar to Barbra Streisand on the front lawn. It was Halloween themed, however. Very Halloween themed. Fake headstones, cobwebs, a coffin with an automated Dracula popping out, and mass amounts of carved pumpkins littered the front lawn. There were ten yard signs lining the front porch each with the same thing on them:
Most Festive Lawn
Lima Garden Club
Halloween 2001
And up through 2011.
Brittany giggled at the scarecrow and poked the plastic spiders next to the front door as they went inside. The house was, again, shockingly normal aside from the walls. Pictures of Rachel everywhere. Santana rolled her eyes. Seriously, how many pictures of one person could be taken? Did her dads have weekly photoshoots?
“Good evening, ladies,” a Dracula-esque voice came from the kitchen doorway. The Berrys really did go all out for this shit. The tall man was dressed from head to toe in what was probably a custom tailored Dracula outfit. He was followed by Rachel’s other dad dressed as, of course, a bat.
“Hi Leroy, Hiram,” Quinn greeted them with wide grins and hugs. Santana gagged. “You look awesome. This is Santana and Brittany.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” Leroy smiled revealing his fake (Santana hoped) fangs. “Nice to meet you two. Rachel’s up in her room.”
Santana gave a polite nod and trudged up the stairs. Of course the door had a gold star on it with her name. What the hell else? Santana would be utterly shocked if the entire room wasn’t gold star patterned. Or argyle.
“Baby, is it safe to come in or do I need to help you get dressed?”
“As enticing as the offer is, I am decent!”
“God you guys are sick.”
“Shut up, Lopez.”
After the shock wearing off of Rachel’s room simply being pale yellow Santana slowly moved her eyes to the girl herself. And she had to be fucking seeing things.
“What…the hell?”
Rachel was in dark green spandex body suit with purple knee pads, a purple belt with a D on the buckle, a yellow-ish fabric chest piece with abs printed on it that obviously went around her back to form into a plush shell, a purple mask around her eyes, purple bands around her wrists and elbows, and was holding a plastic bo staff.
She was a fucking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
Santana darted her gaze to Rachel’s bed where three more matching suits, shells, masks, strips of cloth, and sets of kneepads lay out.
“Ay dios mio.”
“What do you think?” Rachel asked with a bounce. “I was determined to find a set of costumes that could display our separate personalities and Daddy thought of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It’s absolutely brilliant! I, being the brilliant one, of course will be Donatello. Santana with your quote, bad girl image, I selected you to be Raphael. Brittany will be Michelangelo due to her laid-back nature which leaves Quinn as Leonardo, the leader. Also fitting since she is, in fact, the oldest of the four of us.”
Santana was absolutely speechless. For maybe the second time in her life, Rachel Berry had done something that wasn’t absolutely annoying to her. The turtle costumes were actually…yeah, they were actually kind of brilliant.
“We used to play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when we were kids, remember San?!”
It was true. When Brittany, Santana, and Quinn were kids they would go through Santana’s abuela’s sewing basket to find strips of colored fabric to use as masks and run around the house shouting “cowabunga” and demanding extra-cheesy pizza for lunch. They’d sit and watch the classic cartoons (Santana’s older brothers still had the videos) during lunch and ward off evil in the form of neighborhood cats after naptime.
“Do you approve, Santana?”
“I…yeah. Yeah, I like it.” Santana tried to hide the smile at Brittany, who was grabbing her suit and orange mask and immediately stripping out of her clothes to put her costume on. Rachel squeaked and turned her head, Santana only chuckled.
“Quinn gave me your measurements so the suits could be customized,” Rachel said, still staring at the wall as Santana stripped down. “Everything should fit.”
“How the hell did you get my measurements?”
“Cheerios Captain. I have a key to Sylvester’s office.”
“I hate you.”
“Right back at you.”
There was a ten minute argument when Santana decided she looked damn good in just the spandex suit and refused to put on the chest plate because, really, who would want to cover up those investments? One pout from Brittany and Santana gave in. She was totally not whipped, though. Totally not. She still looked hot with the shell on.
After scarfing down pizza (and yes, Santana was aware of the coincidence) Rachel’s dads insisted on taking almost a memory card full of pictures (of course) of the girls in their costumes. Santana flipped and twirled her plastic sai with amusement; sure, she would’ve preferred actual metal daggers but these would have to do. She silently thanked Rachel for being smart and giving Brittany padded nunchucks. Even so, the blonde managed to smack herself in the head with them before they even left the house. It bruised by the time they got to the community center.
“Rachel!”
Santana looked over from the bruise on Brittany’s forehead to see a man running toward them in full costume of some Jewish priest or something.
“Rabbi Greenburg, it’s wonderful to see you!”
Okay, he wasn’t in costume. Santana smiled and shook the man’s hand as Rachel introduced them. He led them to a room with tables of glitter, glue, crayons, colored pencils, coloring pictures of Halloween stuff and wished them luck before walking off. Luck for what?
“We’re in charge of arts and crafts,” Rachel said way too enthusiastically. “Once the children begin arriving it will be our task to keep them herded in while the parents go about their activities for the evening.”
“Wait, wait. You’re telling me we’re going to be in charge of a bunch of brats all night? No way. No freakin’ way.”
“Santana, I assure you that this is very simple. There are never more than twenty children allowed without parental supervision which gives us five children each. It’ll be easy.”
Santana growled. She hated kids. She didn’t want any of her own and she certainly didn’t want to watch other people’s offspring when she could’ve been at home making out with Brittany.
“We’ll set up stations,” Rachel said. “Brittany and Santana, you can have one table for the tactile crafts such as glitter, pipe cleaners, and this lovely colorful sand they have provided. Quinn and I will watch over the coloring. Very simple.”
“Come on, Santana. I’ll owe you, okay?” Quinn’s eyes were pleading and Santana knew that they would both probably get laid after this if she agreed.
“You’re paying for dinner next time.”
“Deal.”
They split the crafts up and put ten chairs at each table and waited. Right at seven the kids began filing in and, upon looking at the two choices, they more often chose glitter and glue. This night was going to be bad. Within the first fifteen minutes Santana had two handfuls of glitter thrown at her by a kid dressed up as the devil (fitting, right?) and another girl had spread glue all over her hands. Santana almost picked the girl up by her fairy wings to take her to the sink but Quinn shot her a warning glance. Santana picked the girl up under the arms and carried her at arm’s length to the sink to get her to wash her hands. Apparently, playing in the water is a lot more fun than using it for its actual purpose. The girl’s dress was half soaked by the time she was done.
Brittany, who couldn’t do arts and crafts by herself without getting covered in supplies, was shockingly clean after the first hour. She only had a few pieces of glitter in her hair and there was a cotton ball stuck to the back of her shell that Santana picked off. Things started slowing down around 8:15 and Santana was exhausted but she would have to pull through it.
A pipe cleaner poked Santana in the arm and she looked down to see a boy dressed as Spider-Man pointing to his piece of paper.
“How do I make guts? ‘Cause that guy killed that guy an’ now he’s got guts everywhere.”
Finally, an awesome kid. Santana all too happily showed the boy how to glue the pipe cleaners to the drawn out character’s body. He hugged her when it was done and grabbed another sheet of paper. Santana caught a glimpse of Brittany out of the corner of her eye and knew that, most definitely, she was getting some tonight. The sticky fingers spreading glue on the back of her neck was totally worth it.
At some point, Rachel decided an impromptu concert was absolutely necessary because, duh, it’s Rachel Berry and performing is like her life or something. Santana sighed and listened to her start singing the opening notes to “Don’t Rain on My Parade” before the Spider-Man kid shushed her. Santana gave him a high five. She helped him glue pipe cleaners to make brains for a zombie this time.
“That girl tried to sing last year, too,” he groaned. “I threw crayons at her.”
“Dude, you’re like my new favorite person.”
“Are you friends with her?”
“I have to be.”
“That stinks.”
When Spider-Man’s mom came to pick him up she thanked all four girls profusely before taking the kid’s hand. Santana turned her back to clean up the sticky mess he’d left when something wrapped around her legs. Spider-Man looked up at her with a huge grin and thrust the zombie picture up at her. It totally wasn’t like, the sweetest thing ever. No way. She patted Spider-Man on the head and took the picture. His mother smiled at her on their way out the door and Santana smiled back before looking down at the picture.
“I think you’ve got yourself a boyfriend.” Quinn smirked from across the room.
“Shut up, Fabray.”
“Come on, S. That was pretty cute.”
“I hate kids.”
“Sure you do.”
“I only liked that one because he shut your girlfriend up.”
“Sure thing.”
God, she hated Quinn Fabray.
-*-*-*-*-*-
The center closed down at nine and Santana helped clean up the crafts room and put everything back in the storage closet. Rabbi Greenburg offered the foursome their pick out of the leftover candy before they left. Santana clutched tight to the zombie picture from Spider-Man and growled at Rachel when she started to make some smartass comment.
“What now?” Brittany asked on the way to Quinn’s car. “It’s early.”
“I vote we get drunk.”
“We’re underage, Santana. And drinking can contribute to liver disease, it damages brain-“
“Please shut up.”
Rachel shrugged. “At least you said please.”
“We should go to the park.”
“The park is closed, Brittany.”
“Not for us.” Santana smirked.
Santana silently thanked Puck for teaching her how to pick locks as she unlocked the front gate to the Lima City Park. Rachel was whining about getting caught and prison and permanent records but Quinn was actually the one to shush her that time. It had been something the trio had done hundreds of times before. They were usually all a little tipsy and would walk from Puck’s house to the park, break in, and run around like nothing else mattered until dawn broke. If Santana was a soft person and liked emotional shit (she totally didn’t) she would say that those were some of the best memories of high school.
“Cowabunga!” Brittany immediately headed for the tiny toddler slide and hopped up on top. She pulled her nunchucks out of her belt and began flipping them around, trying desperately to avoid her head.
A poke in her back made Santana turn around to see Quinn with a devious grin and her plastic katana swords held in front of her. Oh, it was on.
Santana pulled out her sai and she and Quinn circled each other before engaging in an epic battle of fake weaponry. Santana hopped up on one of the swings and continued battling with her friend. She heard a shriek from across the playground and looked up to see Rachel running away from Brittany’s swinging nunchucks as the blonde chased her.
Quinn’s eyes focused on the scene a little too long and Santana poked her in the shoulder then thrust her arms up in victory.
“Not fair!” Quinn shrieked.
“Grow a pair, Fabray. Hey, we could totally take them on.”
Quinn nodded furiously and Santana jumped off the swing to take off after her. Rachel screamed with Santana came after her, sai pointed directly at her. Rachel held up her staff to block the first blow and started running again.
“Come on, Berry! You know I won’t actually hurt you, right?”
“Violence is not fun!”
“You’re seriously a fun killer.”
“I can have fun!”
“Then let loose a little! God, you’re more uptight than Schuester.”
Santana blinked a few times when, after a moment, there was a very distinct “thwack” and a pain on the top of her head. Rachel giggled and clutched onto her staff. Oh hell no. She did not just get smacked in the head by Rachel freaking Berry.
“You’re dead.”
Santana held up her sai and blocked another swing from Rachel and took a swing of her own. Rachel, surprisingly, ducked and rolled like some expert and came up laughing with leaves stuck in her hair and on her turtle shell. Santana’s next blows were blocked and Rachel whacked her arm and then knee.
“I believe I’m slightly superior to you in the art of weaponry, Santana.”
“Not a chance!”
After a quick glance at Quinn and Brittany, both hanging by their knees on the jungle gym and still battling, she turned her attention back to the diva. Rachel ducked another hit and continued battling with Rachel, leaping over swings and climbing up slides to reach her. For someone so short she was pretty damn quick. They eventually ended up on either side of the merry-go-round and Santana dropped one foot down to give it a push. Just as Santana moved to strike she felt something poke her back and then hit her arm. She turned to meet Quinn, smirking.
“What the hell? Where is B?”
“I killed her.” Quinn pointed underneath the jungle gym where Brittany was rolling in the leaves.
“She decastrated me!”
“You suck. And we were supposed to be on the same team!”
Quinn shrugged. “I switched sides.”
Santana hopped off the merry-go-round and fell to the ground in a dramatic death, gasping for air and finally going limp.
“Good, now Rachel and I can go have sex on the slide.”
“Quinn! That is unsafe and not to mention extremely unsanitary! If you wish to engage in intercourse we will do so later, in the comfort of my bedroom.”
“Gross.”
“We did it on the slide once!”
Santana cracked one eye open to see Brittany, covered in leaves, hovering over her with a huge smile. It totally didn’t make Santana want to smile back and go play with her girlfriend in the leaves and cuddle or some sissy shit like that. Totally not.
“What now?” Brittany asked, twirling her nunchucks again.
“Now?” Santana hopped up off the ground and smirked. She smacked Quinn’s arm and yelled, “you’re it!” and took off running. Brittany grabbed her hand and pulled the pair away toward the city pond and listened to Quinn yell about how unfair it was that she wasn’t even warned. Santana had almost forgotten that Quinn was back in shape until the girl was on their heels. Brittany let go of Santana’s hand and dashed ahead; Santana took off in a sprint leaving Quinn in the dust.
After losing track of Quinn, Santana ducked underneath one of the slides with Brittany and she lightly punched the other blonde’s arm.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Every man for himself.”
Footsteps outside of the slide made Santana hold her breath until she spotted purple.
“Santana? Brittany?”
“Shut up, Rachel!”
“Have you seen Quinn?”
“No, we lost her.”
Brittany crawled out from under the slide; Santana followed. Rachel was looking over her shoulders with paranoia until she lunged forward and smacked Brittany’s shoulder.
“You’re it!” she yelled as she dashed away. Santana didn’t have to think twice before taking off again.
The game of tag lasted for well over an hour, Santana guessed. She vowed to never play it with Rachel Berry ever, ever again. That girl played dirty. At one point she pretended to trip and bust her head open in order to get Quinn to rush to her aid, only to tag her and bolt away.
It was passed eleven by the time they finally gave up, collected their weapons, and headed out of the park. Quinn didn’t even have to ask what to do next; Santana made sure she made it very clear what she wanted when she tried to feel up Brittany in the back seat again.
Brittany pecked each Rachel and Quinn’s cheeks when they got to Santana’s and hopped out of the car to skip to the front door.
“I hope you found this night fulfilling, Santana,” Rachel said with a smile. “I certainly had fun.”
“It was okay.” The corners of Santana’s mouth twitched threatening to break into a smile at freaking Rachel Berry. Could it be that the tiny brunette could eventually grow on her? Especially after nights like this? “I had a great night, Rachel. See you Monday.”
The look on Rachel’s face after Santana was nice was worth it. Santana grabbed the bag with her and Brittany’s clothes in it and followed her girlfriend’s trail up to the house to finally get some well-deserved sex and maybe some hot chocolate (yes, with marshmallows shaped like ghosts. Shut up.).
“Did you have fun, San?”
Santana grinned at the pile of green spandex on Brittany’s bedroom floor.
“Totally.”
“Rachel’s fun.”
“She’s not bad.”
“It’s okay if you want to be her friend.”
“The turtle thing was pretty badass.”
“Would you be mad if I said it was my favorite Halloween ever?”
Santana reached up and picked part of a leaf out of Brittany’s hair that had somehow stayed stuck in and again, she smiled.
“It was my favorite, too, babe.”
Pairings: Santana/Brittany, side Rachel/Quinn
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~4,300
Summary: Santana was absolutely sure Halloween would be a disaster.
Author's Note: Happy Halloween =)
Art: Santana and Spider-Man | The OT4 by volcano89 @ Tumblr
Santana loved Halloween. For the last three years, ever since Brittany’s mother had finally put a stop to the teens going out trick-or-treating because they were too old, Santana and Brittany always chose that night to stay in and do the whole scary movies cliché. They would raid Santana’s brothers’ stash of classic horror films and settle down in Santana’s basement with popcorn, chips and dip, candy, soda, and any other junk food they could find in their afternoon trip to Wal-Mart. It was more often than not followed by sex. One year with edible body paint. That was a really good year.
This year, though, it was going to be…well, if Santana could describe it in one word it would be “horrific”. Why? Because since she and Quinn reconciled their differences as much as they could (at the insistence of Brittany) it meant that Quinn was going to be with them. To top it all off, Quinn had come crashing out of the closet with none other than the single most annoying person on the planet. No, not Justin Bieber. (Even though he was still an annoying little shit after puberty hit him like a train. If she had to hear a two-octave-lower version of ‘Baby’ one more time she was going to kill someone.) No, this was much wor- Okay, no one was as bad as that kid. But Gold Star Berry with her hideous animal sweaters was pretty damn close.
Rachel, as Quinn insisted Santana call her, had demanded that the foursome dress up and go out that year. Santana spat that just because Rachel could still pass for an eight year old didn’t mean they all could. The bruise on her shin where Quinn kicked her under the table lasted for a week and a half. Rachel had rolled her eyes and said that of course they wouldn’t be going trick-or-treating but instead going to the community center to volunteer with the “child-safe festivities that provide an alternative to the dangers of walking in the dark and taking candy from strangers”. Brittany was ecstatic which meant Santana grudgingly agreed.
Now, normally, when someone says “you don’t have to worry about the costumes”, Santana doesn’t worry. When Rachel Berry says, “don’t fret about the costumes, Santana. I have something chosen that reflects each of our individual interests and personalities” it means she’s completely and utterly screwed.
-*-*-*-*-*-
“Costume fitting this evening at five, Santana. We have to be at the community center by seven!” Rachel chirped as she rushed passed on her way to class. It was Friday and technically three days before Halloween but the Lima City Council had chosen a Friday night rather than Monday for trick-or-treating and whatever was going on at the community center. “Tardiness is unacceptable!”
Quinn followed more slowly and stopped at Santana’s locker with a smirk. A smirk that meant trouble.
“What does your psycho girlfriend have planned, Q? Seriously, this is my senior year and I’m not going as a group of Barbra Streisands or something.”
“Don’t worry, you get a weapon.”
Before Santana could ask any further details (because, while she did enjoy weapons, she didn’t want to be stuck with some sissy thing like mace or some shit; Santana Lopez was too fucking badass for that) Quinn turned and walked off, calling to Rachel as she went. Santana just scowled and turned to go to gym. At least she’d get to release some pent up frustration that day. They were playing dodgeball and Santana was determined to beat the previous week’s record of sending five other girls to the nurse’s office with something bleeding, bruised, or fractured. She succeeded.
Brittany was practically a bubble of excitement all day. She’d gone through about a million and a half different costume ideas that Rachel might have picked for them including, but not limited to: rocks, chickens, the characters from Dora the Explorer, pieces of fruit, school supplies, and fish. Brittany was sincerely hoping for rocks. Santana only smiled and nodded, as she always did.
-*-*-*-*-*-
“Michelangelo?”
“No, Quinn, Leonardo!”
Santana quirked an eyebrow as she and Brittany approached the bickering couple in the hallway just after the last bell rang.
“Are you seriously arguing about art history or some shit?” Santana snorted. “Losers.”
Rachel’s face was panicked for a moment before she smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Art history is a very fascinating subject. Quinn and I were discussing the Renaissance!”
“Whatever. Still five, right? There better be food involved.”
Rachel opened her mouth to speak but Santana held and hand up to cut her off.
“No rabbit food.”
“I once ate my rabbit’s food. It tasted like dog food.”
“I told you to stop doing that, B.”
“Tastes good.”
Santana gave a quick nod before turning back to a very confused looking Rachel. “Real food, Berry. Stuff that comes from animals.”
“I suppose that, because of your willingness to participate in my scheduled Halloween activities, that I can acquiesce to your request of slaughtering innocent animals for-“
“Great. Pepperoni pizza. See you at five.”
For once, Santana wished that Cheerios practice would run at least a little over in order to stall having to go to Rachel’s to find out what hideous costumes she had planned. Unfortunately for her, Sylvester mentioned something about a mother/daughter Nazi hunt that evening and called practice half an hour early. Quinn was no help either, the little bitch called Rachel just after she finished her shower and said they’d be coming over early. Santana had no choice but to go along with it.
“I hate you,” she mumbled as she passed Quinn to get to her locker.
“It’s not going to be that bad, Santana. Weapons, remember?”
“They better be sharp or capable of firing something.”
“You and Rachel in the same room with functional weapons? I’ll let Jacob Ben Israel onto the Cheerios before that happens.”
Santana grumbled and pulled on her street clothes before slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder and taking Brittany’s pinky to follow Quinn out of the locker room. There was no possible way that this was going to end well.
The ride to Rachel’s would’ve been much better if Quinn (smarter than she looked) hadn’t known that Santana would’ve pulled the “I got lost” card in order to avoid getting there and insisted that they all ride together. Santana sat in the back seat, scowling, as Brittany swayed to the radio and Quinn again called Rachel to let her know they were on the way. Figuring she could get a little payback and some fun with her girlfriend, Santana leaned over and kissed down Brittany’s jaw and ran one hand up her thigh.
“San…”
“Shhh.”
“If you two do that in my back seat I will put you on the bottom of the pyramid for the rest of the year.”
Any other threat would’ve made Santana scoff but not this one. This threat was just plain fucking cruel. The bottom of the pyramid was torture and she wasn’t going back to it. Ever. After a few mumbled choice words she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. Fucking Fabray the Twat Swat.
Rachel’s house, shockingly, wasn’t painted like a giant pride flag and didn’t have an altar to Barbra Streisand on the front lawn. It was Halloween themed, however. Very Halloween themed. Fake headstones, cobwebs, a coffin with an automated Dracula popping out, and mass amounts of carved pumpkins littered the front lawn. There were ten yard signs lining the front porch each with the same thing on them:
Most Festive Lawn
Lima Garden Club
Halloween 2001
And up through 2011.
Brittany giggled at the scarecrow and poked the plastic spiders next to the front door as they went inside. The house was, again, shockingly normal aside from the walls. Pictures of Rachel everywhere. Santana rolled her eyes. Seriously, how many pictures of one person could be taken? Did her dads have weekly photoshoots?
“Good evening, ladies,” a Dracula-esque voice came from the kitchen doorway. The Berrys really did go all out for this shit. The tall man was dressed from head to toe in what was probably a custom tailored Dracula outfit. He was followed by Rachel’s other dad dressed as, of course, a bat.
“Hi Leroy, Hiram,” Quinn greeted them with wide grins and hugs. Santana gagged. “You look awesome. This is Santana and Brittany.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” Leroy smiled revealing his fake (Santana hoped) fangs. “Nice to meet you two. Rachel’s up in her room.”
Santana gave a polite nod and trudged up the stairs. Of course the door had a gold star on it with her name. What the hell else? Santana would be utterly shocked if the entire room wasn’t gold star patterned. Or argyle.
“Baby, is it safe to come in or do I need to help you get dressed?”
“As enticing as the offer is, I am decent!”
“God you guys are sick.”
“Shut up, Lopez.”
After the shock wearing off of Rachel’s room simply being pale yellow Santana slowly moved her eyes to the girl herself. And she had to be fucking seeing things.
“What…the hell?”
Rachel was in dark green spandex body suit with purple knee pads, a purple belt with a D on the buckle, a yellow-ish fabric chest piece with abs printed on it that obviously went around her back to form into a plush shell, a purple mask around her eyes, purple bands around her wrists and elbows, and was holding a plastic bo staff.
She was a fucking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
Santana darted her gaze to Rachel’s bed where three more matching suits, shells, masks, strips of cloth, and sets of kneepads lay out.
“Ay dios mio.”
“What do you think?” Rachel asked with a bounce. “I was determined to find a set of costumes that could display our separate personalities and Daddy thought of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It’s absolutely brilliant! I, being the brilliant one, of course will be Donatello. Santana with your quote, bad girl image, I selected you to be Raphael. Brittany will be Michelangelo due to her laid-back nature which leaves Quinn as Leonardo, the leader. Also fitting since she is, in fact, the oldest of the four of us.”
Santana was absolutely speechless. For maybe the second time in her life, Rachel Berry had done something that wasn’t absolutely annoying to her. The turtle costumes were actually…yeah, they were actually kind of brilliant.
“We used to play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when we were kids, remember San?!”
It was true. When Brittany, Santana, and Quinn were kids they would go through Santana’s abuela’s sewing basket to find strips of colored fabric to use as masks and run around the house shouting “cowabunga” and demanding extra-cheesy pizza for lunch. They’d sit and watch the classic cartoons (Santana’s older brothers still had the videos) during lunch and ward off evil in the form of neighborhood cats after naptime.
“Do you approve, Santana?”
“I…yeah. Yeah, I like it.” Santana tried to hide the smile at Brittany, who was grabbing her suit and orange mask and immediately stripping out of her clothes to put her costume on. Rachel squeaked and turned her head, Santana only chuckled.
“Quinn gave me your measurements so the suits could be customized,” Rachel said, still staring at the wall as Santana stripped down. “Everything should fit.”
“How the hell did you get my measurements?”
“Cheerios Captain. I have a key to Sylvester’s office.”
“I hate you.”
“Right back at you.”
There was a ten minute argument when Santana decided she looked damn good in just the spandex suit and refused to put on the chest plate because, really, who would want to cover up those investments? One pout from Brittany and Santana gave in. She was totally not whipped, though. Totally not. She still looked hot with the shell on.
After scarfing down pizza (and yes, Santana was aware of the coincidence) Rachel’s dads insisted on taking almost a memory card full of pictures (of course) of the girls in their costumes. Santana flipped and twirled her plastic sai with amusement; sure, she would’ve preferred actual metal daggers but these would have to do. She silently thanked Rachel for being smart and giving Brittany padded nunchucks. Even so, the blonde managed to smack herself in the head with them before they even left the house. It bruised by the time they got to the community center.
“Rachel!”
Santana looked over from the bruise on Brittany’s forehead to see a man running toward them in full costume of some Jewish priest or something.
“Rabbi Greenburg, it’s wonderful to see you!”
Okay, he wasn’t in costume. Santana smiled and shook the man’s hand as Rachel introduced them. He led them to a room with tables of glitter, glue, crayons, colored pencils, coloring pictures of Halloween stuff and wished them luck before walking off. Luck for what?
“We’re in charge of arts and crafts,” Rachel said way too enthusiastically. “Once the children begin arriving it will be our task to keep them herded in while the parents go about their activities for the evening.”
“Wait, wait. You’re telling me we’re going to be in charge of a bunch of brats all night? No way. No freakin’ way.”
“Santana, I assure you that this is very simple. There are never more than twenty children allowed without parental supervision which gives us five children each. It’ll be easy.”
Santana growled. She hated kids. She didn’t want any of her own and she certainly didn’t want to watch other people’s offspring when she could’ve been at home making out with Brittany.
“We’ll set up stations,” Rachel said. “Brittany and Santana, you can have one table for the tactile crafts such as glitter, pipe cleaners, and this lovely colorful sand they have provided. Quinn and I will watch over the coloring. Very simple.”
“Come on, Santana. I’ll owe you, okay?” Quinn’s eyes were pleading and Santana knew that they would both probably get laid after this if she agreed.
“You’re paying for dinner next time.”
“Deal.”
They split the crafts up and put ten chairs at each table and waited. Right at seven the kids began filing in and, upon looking at the two choices, they more often chose glitter and glue. This night was going to be bad. Within the first fifteen minutes Santana had two handfuls of glitter thrown at her by a kid dressed up as the devil (fitting, right?) and another girl had spread glue all over her hands. Santana almost picked the girl up by her fairy wings to take her to the sink but Quinn shot her a warning glance. Santana picked the girl up under the arms and carried her at arm’s length to the sink to get her to wash her hands. Apparently, playing in the water is a lot more fun than using it for its actual purpose. The girl’s dress was half soaked by the time she was done.
Brittany, who couldn’t do arts and crafts by herself without getting covered in supplies, was shockingly clean after the first hour. She only had a few pieces of glitter in her hair and there was a cotton ball stuck to the back of her shell that Santana picked off. Things started slowing down around 8:15 and Santana was exhausted but she would have to pull through it.
A pipe cleaner poked Santana in the arm and she looked down to see a boy dressed as Spider-Man pointing to his piece of paper.
“How do I make guts? ‘Cause that guy killed that guy an’ now he’s got guts everywhere.”
Finally, an awesome kid. Santana all too happily showed the boy how to glue the pipe cleaners to the drawn out character’s body. He hugged her when it was done and grabbed another sheet of paper. Santana caught a glimpse of Brittany out of the corner of her eye and knew that, most definitely, she was getting some tonight. The sticky fingers spreading glue on the back of her neck was totally worth it.
At some point, Rachel decided an impromptu concert was absolutely necessary because, duh, it’s Rachel Berry and performing is like her life or something. Santana sighed and listened to her start singing the opening notes to “Don’t Rain on My Parade” before the Spider-Man kid shushed her. Santana gave him a high five. She helped him glue pipe cleaners to make brains for a zombie this time.
“That girl tried to sing last year, too,” he groaned. “I threw crayons at her.”
“Dude, you’re like my new favorite person.”
“Are you friends with her?”
“I have to be.”
“That stinks.”
When Spider-Man’s mom came to pick him up she thanked all four girls profusely before taking the kid’s hand. Santana turned her back to clean up the sticky mess he’d left when something wrapped around her legs. Spider-Man looked up at her with a huge grin and thrust the zombie picture up at her. It totally wasn’t like, the sweetest thing ever. No way. She patted Spider-Man on the head and took the picture. His mother smiled at her on their way out the door and Santana smiled back before looking down at the picture.
“I think you’ve got yourself a boyfriend.” Quinn smirked from across the room.
“Shut up, Fabray.”
“Come on, S. That was pretty cute.”
“I hate kids.”
“Sure you do.”
“I only liked that one because he shut your girlfriend up.”
“Sure thing.”
God, she hated Quinn Fabray.
-*-*-*-*-*-
The center closed down at nine and Santana helped clean up the crafts room and put everything back in the storage closet. Rabbi Greenburg offered the foursome their pick out of the leftover candy before they left. Santana clutched tight to the zombie picture from Spider-Man and growled at Rachel when she started to make some smartass comment.
“What now?” Brittany asked on the way to Quinn’s car. “It’s early.”
“I vote we get drunk.”
“We’re underage, Santana. And drinking can contribute to liver disease, it damages brain-“
“Please shut up.”
Rachel shrugged. “At least you said please.”
“We should go to the park.”
“The park is closed, Brittany.”
“Not for us.” Santana smirked.
Santana silently thanked Puck for teaching her how to pick locks as she unlocked the front gate to the Lima City Park. Rachel was whining about getting caught and prison and permanent records but Quinn was actually the one to shush her that time. It had been something the trio had done hundreds of times before. They were usually all a little tipsy and would walk from Puck’s house to the park, break in, and run around like nothing else mattered until dawn broke. If Santana was a soft person and liked emotional shit (she totally didn’t) she would say that those were some of the best memories of high school.
“Cowabunga!” Brittany immediately headed for the tiny toddler slide and hopped up on top. She pulled her nunchucks out of her belt and began flipping them around, trying desperately to avoid her head.
A poke in her back made Santana turn around to see Quinn with a devious grin and her plastic katana swords held in front of her. Oh, it was on.
Santana pulled out her sai and she and Quinn circled each other before engaging in an epic battle of fake weaponry. Santana hopped up on one of the swings and continued battling with her friend. She heard a shriek from across the playground and looked up to see Rachel running away from Brittany’s swinging nunchucks as the blonde chased her.
Quinn’s eyes focused on the scene a little too long and Santana poked her in the shoulder then thrust her arms up in victory.
“Not fair!” Quinn shrieked.
“Grow a pair, Fabray. Hey, we could totally take them on.”
Quinn nodded furiously and Santana jumped off the swing to take off after her. Rachel screamed with Santana came after her, sai pointed directly at her. Rachel held up her staff to block the first blow and started running again.
“Come on, Berry! You know I won’t actually hurt you, right?”
“Violence is not fun!”
“You’re seriously a fun killer.”
“I can have fun!”
“Then let loose a little! God, you’re more uptight than Schuester.”
Santana blinked a few times when, after a moment, there was a very distinct “thwack” and a pain on the top of her head. Rachel giggled and clutched onto her staff. Oh hell no. She did not just get smacked in the head by Rachel freaking Berry.
“You’re dead.”
Santana held up her sai and blocked another swing from Rachel and took a swing of her own. Rachel, surprisingly, ducked and rolled like some expert and came up laughing with leaves stuck in her hair and on her turtle shell. Santana’s next blows were blocked and Rachel whacked her arm and then knee.
“I believe I’m slightly superior to you in the art of weaponry, Santana.”
“Not a chance!”
After a quick glance at Quinn and Brittany, both hanging by their knees on the jungle gym and still battling, she turned her attention back to the diva. Rachel ducked another hit and continued battling with Rachel, leaping over swings and climbing up slides to reach her. For someone so short she was pretty damn quick. They eventually ended up on either side of the merry-go-round and Santana dropped one foot down to give it a push. Just as Santana moved to strike she felt something poke her back and then hit her arm. She turned to meet Quinn, smirking.
“What the hell? Where is B?”
“I killed her.” Quinn pointed underneath the jungle gym where Brittany was rolling in the leaves.
“She decastrated me!”
“You suck. And we were supposed to be on the same team!”
Quinn shrugged. “I switched sides.”
Santana hopped off the merry-go-round and fell to the ground in a dramatic death, gasping for air and finally going limp.
“Good, now Rachel and I can go have sex on the slide.”
“Quinn! That is unsafe and not to mention extremely unsanitary! If you wish to engage in intercourse we will do so later, in the comfort of my bedroom.”
“Gross.”
“We did it on the slide once!”
Santana cracked one eye open to see Brittany, covered in leaves, hovering over her with a huge smile. It totally didn’t make Santana want to smile back and go play with her girlfriend in the leaves and cuddle or some sissy shit like that. Totally not.
“What now?” Brittany asked, twirling her nunchucks again.
“Now?” Santana hopped up off the ground and smirked. She smacked Quinn’s arm and yelled, “you’re it!” and took off running. Brittany grabbed her hand and pulled the pair away toward the city pond and listened to Quinn yell about how unfair it was that she wasn’t even warned. Santana had almost forgotten that Quinn was back in shape until the girl was on their heels. Brittany let go of Santana’s hand and dashed ahead; Santana took off in a sprint leaving Quinn in the dust.
After losing track of Quinn, Santana ducked underneath one of the slides with Brittany and she lightly punched the other blonde’s arm.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Every man for himself.”
Footsteps outside of the slide made Santana hold her breath until she spotted purple.
“Santana? Brittany?”
“Shut up, Rachel!”
“Have you seen Quinn?”
“No, we lost her.”
Brittany crawled out from under the slide; Santana followed. Rachel was looking over her shoulders with paranoia until she lunged forward and smacked Brittany’s shoulder.
“You’re it!” she yelled as she dashed away. Santana didn’t have to think twice before taking off again.
The game of tag lasted for well over an hour, Santana guessed. She vowed to never play it with Rachel Berry ever, ever again. That girl played dirty. At one point she pretended to trip and bust her head open in order to get Quinn to rush to her aid, only to tag her and bolt away.
It was passed eleven by the time they finally gave up, collected their weapons, and headed out of the park. Quinn didn’t even have to ask what to do next; Santana made sure she made it very clear what she wanted when she tried to feel up Brittany in the back seat again.
Brittany pecked each Rachel and Quinn’s cheeks when they got to Santana’s and hopped out of the car to skip to the front door.
“I hope you found this night fulfilling, Santana,” Rachel said with a smile. “I certainly had fun.”
“It was okay.” The corners of Santana’s mouth twitched threatening to break into a smile at freaking Rachel Berry. Could it be that the tiny brunette could eventually grow on her? Especially after nights like this? “I had a great night, Rachel. See you Monday.”
The look on Rachel’s face after Santana was nice was worth it. Santana grabbed the bag with her and Brittany’s clothes in it and followed her girlfriend’s trail up to the house to finally get some well-deserved sex and maybe some hot chocolate (yes, with marshmallows shaped like ghosts. Shut up.).
“Did you have fun, San?”
Santana grinned at the pile of green spandex on Brittany’s bedroom floor.
“Totally.”
“Rachel’s fun.”
“She’s not bad.”
“It’s okay if you want to be her friend.”
“The turtle thing was pretty badass.”
“Would you be mad if I said it was my favorite Halloween ever?”
Santana reached up and picked part of a leaf out of Brittany’s hair that had somehow stayed stuck in and again, she smiled.
“It was my favorite, too, babe.”