Mighty Morphin Power...Teenagers
Title: Mighty Morphin Power...Teenagers
Pairings/Characters: Santana/Brittany, Rachel/Quinn, minor Mike/Tina, the rest of New Directions plus a few OCs
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~4,400
Summary: Sequel to Teenage Mutant Ninja...Teenagers. Kids birthday parties and being nice to Rachel Berry aren't really Santana's thing.
Author's Note: volcano89 @ Tumblr did absolutely amazing art for this fic. You should go check it out!
Puck & Sam vs Brittany's abs | The Glee Club Power Rangers | The Villains | Santana is a Softie | Present and Future
It wasn’t that Santana hated Rachel Berry…except she kind of did. She didn’t have a problem with her up until an hour ago, actually. Despite the fact that the girl played really dirty games of tag and roped Santana and Brittany into volunteering at the community center every other weekend after Halloween, Santana was actually starting to tolerate her. But ever since Rachel dropped this bomb that Brittany latched on to it was back to hating.
“Why would you do that, Berry?” Santana growled. “Why would you sign us up for that?”
“Santana, it’s important to give back to the community. The Allens are in a very tight place right now what with Mr. Allen having his hours cut back and Mrs. Allen attempting to remain at home with Danny. This is an excellent opportunity to bring light to a young boy’s life when he needs it the most. It’s one day.”
Santana shook her head. “You know I hate kids. I’m not herding brats at some kid’s birthday.”
“Danny Allen was Spider-Man for Halloween; surely you remember him?”
The kill shot. Santana growled. She still had the zombie picture tucked away in the top drawer of her desk and she’d more than once had the (very, very small) urge to ask Rachel who he was because, damn, that kid was awesome.
“So,” Santana sighed, “turtles?”
“Not exactly.”
Santana was so screwed.
-*-*-*-*-*-
“Santana, you can’t kick him, he’s on your side!”
Rachel’s screech echoed through the McKinley High gymnasium when Santana, again, planted a roundhouse kick to Puck’s jaw sending him to the floor. She smirked as he growled and got up to do nothing but walk away and massage his face. Rehearsal stopped and the members of New Directions that had been recruited into the physical aspect of Rachel’s volunteer project (everyone but Kurt and Mercedes, who were busy working on the costumes, and Artie who was working with the A/V club to make sure it was all captured on video) all grabbed their water bottles to take a quick breather.
“He moved,” Santana said with a smirk. She took a long pull from her water bottle and popped her neck before dropping down onto the bleachers with Brittany and snuggling close to her. The routine was already perfect but, Rachel being Rachel, insisted that they do it repeatedly to get it down before the official dress rehearsals.
Santana was actually shocked as hell when the rest of the glee club said they’d help out for the performance and herding all the little snot-factories after the show. Puck only agreed if he got to wear a badass costume and once Rachel told him the plan he was more than happy to join. Quinn kneed him in the groin when he asked if he and Rachel, true to the story line of the characters, would get to hook up. Finn complained that they weren’t really sticking to the story if four of the six protagonists were girls when there were only supposed to be two. Puck shut him up by reminding him that the costumes were practically spandex. It took six tries to run through the choreography to finally get through without Brittany stopping to protest the violence. It took another three tries before Tina and Mike stopped making out in the middle of the scene.
“Hey, Santana. Question.”
Santana looked up at Sam and Puck standing in front of her, both with their shirts off.
“Whose abs are hotter, babe?”
Santana only laughed, turned to Brittany, and stripped the girl’s shirt off of her leaving the blonde in a yellow sport bra.
“You both lose. Now, pick your jaws up off the floor and go somewhere else.”
“Her abs are totally better than mine,” Sam murmured. “I’ve gotta stop eating those Doritos.”
“I tapped that.”
They had to cancel the rest of rehearsal when Santana “accidentally” kicked Puck in the nads. And by "accidentally", she means that she walked up to him and did it purposefully. She then proceeded to drag Brittany to the locker room and, much to the protests of her other female teammates, “tap that” repeatedly in the shower. And she did it a lot better than Puck ever even thought about.
-*-*-*-*-*-
“I can’t believe I agreed to be a fucking Power Ranger,” Santana mumbled. “No wonder you like these costumes, Berry. The pattern looks like argyle on the chest.”
The costume fitting was a pain in the ass, mostly because Santana couldn’t pounce on her very hot looking girlfriend. Brittany was smiling happily while Mercedes made adjustments to the bright yellow spandex suit; Rachel bounced around to her wearing her matching pink one, looking almost too eager, as Kurt stood back to make sure his adjustments fit Santana’s red suit. Quinn had picked blue, Sam black, and Puck white. The villains were original creations when, after looking at what it would take for costumes, it was decided there was way too much work involved. So instead of Ivan Ooze, Rita Repulsa, and Lord Zedd it was decided that Finn, Tina, and Mike would be generic-looking evil robots. Their costumes only required a trip to the scrap yard and a little welding done by Burt Hummel to be considered done.
“This is going to be wonderful,” Rachel said. “Danny will be incredibly enthused. His mother said he was extremely excited when he found out the theme of his party.”
“It’s still not right to have four girls,” Finn mumbled as he walked by trying to adjust his metallic chest plate. “But it’s totally cool that he likes the original six the best.”
“I think I saw Lady Gaga wear something like this once,” Tina said, admiring herself in the mirror. Her metal clanked together as she walked off to meet Mike, despite Kurt yelling at them that if they got stuck again he would leave them that way.
“This reminds me,” Rachel said, “Someone needs to pick up grape Jell-O. While I am opposed to the use of gelatin due to its non-vegan nature, it complements the theme and the original movie.”
“Did you make Fabray sit down and watch it with you a thousand times or what?”
“She didn’t make me do anything,” Quinn said, striding up in her perfectly fitted costume. “I did it because I wanted to.”
“So whipped.”
“I am not.”
“You so are.”
Quinn smirked and Santana knew that smirk. That smirk meant trouble. It meant Santana was about to get to do something she really, honestly didn’t want to do. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
“Sweetie,” Quinn turned to Rachel, “I don’t think Santana’s ever seen the movie. There’s no way she’ll ever be able to get the role down.”
And that was how Santana found herself sitting in Rachel Berry’s living room an hour later with the rest of New Directions to “thoroughly research their respective roles”. Rachel brought out the popcorn and sodas before pushing the tape into the VCR (really? Who even has one of those anymore?) and pressing “play”.
“I hate you,” Santana muttered to her best friend.
“Never try to play games with the master.”
Brittany shushed the pair and Santana grumbled. Deciding she didn’t really have to watch the movie, Santana started roaming her hands over Brittany’s thighs only to have them pushed away. Brittany was actually engrossed in this thing. Quinn Fabray was going to pay. Fucking. Twat. Swat.
Ninety-five minutes later Santana was left wondering exactly how anyone made it out of the early and mid-nineties alive. Because, really? To the eyes of a teenager, that shit was…bad. If her kids wanted to watch that over and over again she would’ve killed herself. (Later on in college it would become a trend again and Santana would get to brag about having a costume but right then, totally fucking lame.)
“That was the lamest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“What?” Finn growled. “Come on, that movie totally kicks ass!”
“I played Power Rangers with my brothers, I think,” Brittany said. “They threw Jell-O at me a lot. That counts, right?”
“I want my hour and a half of life back.”
“The party is in a week, Santana,” Rachel said sternly. “You must learn your character.”
“I'm not watching that shit again.”
It was too late. Rachel was already pressing 'Play' and Brittany was squealing excitedly and the only thing Santana could do was bury her face in her hands and mumble “fuck my life”. Quinn was seriously going to get it.
XXXXXXXXXX
Santana grumbled as she zipped up the back of Brittany's costume; the sound of a dozen kids screaming in the Allen's back yard was already making her head throb and deep loathing for Rachel Berry was settling in the pit of her stomach. Their entrance cue was in ten minutes and, no matter how hard she tried, Santana couldn't get Brittany to agree to a quickie. This day was going to suck big time.
“Alright, ladies,” Rachel squealed, clapping her hands, “despite a few flaws in our routine I believe we're going to put on an exceptional performance this afternoon. Santana, remember that Noah is on our side and that kicking him will not be acceptable.”
“The mask might make it hard to see.”
“Danny would appreciate an authentic performance.”
Santana growled. Rachel was a fun-sucker.
The Power Rangers waited near the back door, the evil villains stationed outside and ready to burst into the back gate to “crash” the party. The sound of screaming kids cued Puck to fling the door open, cheers erupted, and Santana saw Danny Allen standing on top of a picnic table jumping up and down excitedly. There were a few missteps in choreography - no one expected three of the kids to “help out” and tackle Finn. Santana took on Mike with Puck and she threw her fake punches and actually didn't kick her teammate despite really, really wanting to just for fun.
The “villains” were eventually subdued and dragged out of the back yard to applause and screeching, the Power Rangers returned to be swarmed with small bodies. Puck immediately grabbed Danny and hoisted him up on his shoulders; Santana stripped off her mask and Danny started squirming until Puck let him down and the young boy made a straight shot for the girl in red.
“What's up, Spider-Man?”
“That was so cool!”
“Yeah? You liked that?”
“You were all like 'pow!' and then you were all over the robots and like punchin' them and stuff!” Danny spun around and kicked the air a few times before crashing into Santana and hugging her legs. “This is the best birthday ever.”
“It is pretty kicka-pretty awesome.”
“Did you see my cake?!”
Santana was dragged across the yard to the table where Danny's cake was set up with Power Rangers figures standing on it and the boy again reenacted a few of Santana's (fucking awesome) moves. She glanced up to see Puck with a kid under each arm and one on his back and Sam with one on each leg, happily carrying the kids around. Quinn and Rachel were with a couple of little girls rummaging through a giant box of princess clothes sitting in one corner of the yard; the villains had re-joined the party and Mike and Tina were attempting to coax three boys out of a tree (one of which was Finn). The only one missing was...
“Santana!” Brittany squealed as she practically tackled her girlfriend. “This is so much fun!”
The blonde picked up Danny and spun him around a few times and damn if it wasn't like one of the freakin' cutest things ever. If Santana was a softie (which she totally isn't) she would've had a flash of the future right then with her and Brittany and a kid being held between them. But she totally didn't. Whatever.
The rest of the party was a typical kid's birthday. They all ate cake and ice cream and one kid cried because he wanted a present that Danny unwrapped. Another kid threw up from too much sugar and one got lost (he was later found asleep in the tree with Finn).
One by one, the kids started to leave with their parents until it was the glee club and the Allens left to clean up the back yard. Danny perched himself on the porch swing with his Power Rangers action figures he had taken off the cake; Santana didn't do cleaning so she crashed next to him and picked up one of the action figures that stuck her in the ass when she did.
“You have a good birthday Spider-Man?”
“It was totally awesome!”
“Sweet.”
“At least that girl didn't try to sing again.”
“Day's not over yet, bud. Trust me, she'll try it.”
As if on cue, Rachel started in on “It's My Party” until Puck shushed her. Danny giggled.
“I like him.”
“He's cool sometimes.”
“I like you, too. You should come over and play sometimes.”
“I...I'm kinda uh-”
Danny's eyes got wide and he stuck out his lower lip and it was all it took to shatter that ice casing around Santana's heart. Because, fuck, kids are just cute.
“I'll talk to your mom and dad, okay?”
The grin on Danny's face was worth it. He crawled up on Santana's lap and she awkwardly flailed her arms for a bit before settling comfortably with Danny's head on her shoulder. In no time he was asleep and Mr. Allen came by to take him to his room.
“Your boyfriend tire himself out?” Rachel teased, following Mr. Allen into the house with a bag of trash.
“Shut it, Berry.”
“You shut it, Lopez,” Quinn growled, two steps behind Rachel. “And do something productive for once.”
“I was babysitting.”
“And now?”
“Screw you.”
Santana followed Quinn and Rachel into the kitchen and started washing dishes and helping Mrs. Allen spoon out leftover ice cream, cake, and snacks to the glee clubbers. By the end of the night they were all so hyped up on sugar that no one noticed a missing member of their club.
“Hey! Can, uh, can someone help me get down from this tree?”
XXXXXXXXXX
“So, ladies, what shall be our evening activity?” Rachel asked, turning off of the Allens' street.
Santana groaned as she held the ice pack on her back and mentally vowed revenge on that idiot Finn for getting stuck in that tree and landing on her when they were able to convince him that the jump wasn't that far. They'd changed out of their costumes and Santana had slipped her number to Mrs. Allen, glaring at anyone that dared question her. There was no way in hell she was letting anyone in on her soft spot.
“Park?” Brittany chirped. A roll of thunder and a flash of lightening made all four girls recoil and Santana immediately shook her head.
“No park tonight unless you want to get struck by lightning, babe.”
“It doesn't hurt that bad.”
No one asked any questions.
Rachel took executive decision and drove to her house; the foursome said hello to Rachel's dads and raided the kitchen. The three Cheerios nervously grabbed armfuls of food and quickly headed up the stairs, fearing being watched by potential bugs planted by Sue Sylveseter, and barricaded themselves in Rachel's room. Rachel grabbed West Side Story off of her movie shelf for the millionth time.
“No way, Berry. We've seen it.”
“It's a fantastic movie.”
“No.”
“Can we watch Care Bears?”
Just as Rachel moved to put the movie in, Santana's prayers were answered. The power went out. Rachel shrieked, Brittany landed on Santana's lap, Quinn laughed, and Santana vowed to start going to church more often. Hell yeah, divine intervention!
“What now?” Santana heard Quinn ask.
“Hell if I know. Me and B will just go home.”
“Not in this weather.” The deep voice that suddenly appeared in the doorway in combination with the loud clap of thunder and crack of lightning just outside the window made all four girls jump and scream and Rachel's dad laugh. “Thought you ladies could use some flashlights,” he said, handing off a couple lights. “Santana, Brittany, looks like you two will be staying here tonight. The storm isn't scheduled to move out for a while and it's bad out there.”
“Would it be advisable for us to move to the basement in the event of a tornado, Daddy?”
“No, sweetie, it's just a storm. If it gets any worse then I'll come get you girls.”
The foursome chirped a “thank you” and lit up the flashlights. Rachel had ended up on Quinn's lap with her head nestled on the blonde's shoulder. Santana almost rolled her eyes until she remembered that the extra weight on her lap belonged to her equally petrified girlfriend.
“Who's up for Truth or Dare?” Santana asked with a smirk. She loved getting dirt on people. It always came in handy.
“Last time we played that you made six Cheerios cry, Santana.”
“I can't help it if they were afraid of Puckerman's python.”
“Ew.”
“No, Rachel, he really does have a snake,” Quinn clarified. “One that slithers and hisses.”
“Still, ew.”
“They didn't have to hold it.”
“Ew.”
“I petted a snake once. It was yellow.”
Again, no one asked questions.
Fifteen minutes later, Santana was pissed at Rachel and Quinn's lack of interesting answers to her truth questions and their refusal to pick “dare”.
“You guys suck at this game.”
“I'm frankly petrified of what you would have me do if I were to pick dare given our tumultuous history.”
“Come on, Berry, I've been nice to you lately.”
Rachel sighed. “Alright, Santana. I'm placing my trust in you. Dare.”
“I saw a bag of beef jerky in your kitchen-”
“No! Absolutely not! I refuse to contribute to the slaughter of innocent cows!”
“One bite!”
“No.”
“Fine, I double dare you to drink a glass of milk.”
“Quinn, I demand you put a stop to this immediately!”
“It's the game.”
“Need I remind you that I can withhold.”
Santana gagged.
“Need I remind you that you bridged a forbidden topic earlier.”
“I was unaware that freshman year of Cheerios was a forbidden topic when I asked the truth of the strangest thing you'd ever eaten.”
Santana's reaction mirrored Quinn's and Brittany's as they all shuddered and whimpered; Quinn pulled her knees to her chest and Brittany started rocking back and forth. Santana felt the color drain from her face and her stomach churned. It was something the three of them vowed never to discuss again.
“Fine,” Rachel sighed. “A small glass of milk.”
Santana smirked. She followed Rachel down to the kitchen and watched her wrinkle her nose and choke down the milk; Santana told her to suck it up when Rachel complained that it tasted rancid and she was sure milk wasn't supposed to taste that horrible.
Rachel's dads looked up from their chess match and tilted their heads as the pair walked back through, Rachel looking like she'd just literally eaten shit and was about to die and Santana smirking. The smirk dropped from her face when Rachel gripped onto her stomach and darted for the downstairs bathroom.
“Is she okay?”
Santana shrugged. “I dared her to drink milk.”
“The milk in the refrigerator?”
“Uh, yeah. That's where milk is kept.”
“I didn't know we had milk. Honey, I thought you threw that away last week?”
“I didn't throw it away, I thought you did. It was a week expired and you said someone should throw it away; I thought you were going to after I left for the extra shift I picked up in the ER.”
“No.”
“Oh shii-oot,” Santana growled. “I'm so getting my butt kicked for this.”
“Sweetie, it's a mistake-”
“I'm more worried about Quinn.”
Neither man said anything and, by the faint light of the flashlights, she saw them both nod with sympathetic looks. Santana heard retching coming from the bathroom and took a deep breath before motioning to Rachel's dads that she would take care of it and following the path Rachel had taken a lot more quickly and entering the half-bathroom. Rachel was on her knees, head in the toilet.
“Oh God, please kill me now,” Rachel begged. “Just...just kill me. Oh sweet Barbra Streisa-”
Santana shuddered when Rachel heaved again. She figured that Quinn was going to kill her anyway so she might as well throw her dignity out the window. It was going to be difficult, but she had to do it. Fuck.
“I'm really sorry, Berry,” Santana said. She rummaged under the bathroom sink to produce a washcloth and ran it under the cold water. Rachel rested long enough to let Santana pull her hair back and drop the cool cloth on the back of her neck. “Your dads said the milk was like...two weeks expired.”
“And people wonder why I've chosen veganism.”
“Because you're a weirdo.”
“You know, I know that underneath your tough exterior is a very caring person.”
“Whatever.”
“Two words: Danny Allen.”
“Shut up.”
“It's alright to admit you have soft spots. Take right now, for instance. While you could be laughing at me or just simply not caring, you're instead choosing to play caretaker.”
“Yeah, well, your girlfriend is going to kill me so figure God might give me a couple brownie points for being nice as my last act.”
“Still, it's very...Oh dear Patti LuPone, not aga-”
While Rachel heaved again (God, that sound was disgusting) Santana rubbed circles on her back until she felt someone pull at her shirt and practically throw her into the hallway. Everything after that was a little fuzzy thanks to hitting her head on the wall but from what Santana remembered before Rachel's dads pulled Quinn off was being screamed at about poison and Rachel dying.
XXXXXXXXXX
“Lopez?”
Santana groaned and grabbed the back of her throbbing head, cursing Quinn Fabray to an eternity of Hell as she moved to try to sit up. She glanced around a little; the power had come back on, judging by the night light plugged into Rachel's bedroom wall, and Quinn was knelt down by the side of the bed.
“What do you want?”
“Sorry about...earlier.”
“Fuck, Quinn. I didn't poison anyone. And where did you learn to scrap?”
“The Power Rangers choreography kind of helped out.”
“Fuck the Power Rangers.”
“You okay?”
“I guess. How's Berry?”
Quinn gestured to the other side of the bed where Rachel was curled up with a trash can, snoring. Brittany was sprawled out on the foot of the bed, and there was a pillow and blanket on the lounge that had been pulled up to Rachel's side of the bed cluing her in that Quinn had been camped out there for a while. God, that was sickeningly sweet. Ew.
“Rachel's dads told me what happened after they made sure you guys were okay and got you upstairs. Sorry, again.”
“Don't worry about it,” Santana chuckled, "I'll get you back."
“Rachel told me if I didn't apologize profusely that when we moved to New York, I would have to sleep on the couch.”
“You're going to New York with her?”
“Yeah. I just...I really love her.”
“That's disgusting. You're going to make me puke.”
“Oh, come on, like you're not totally in love with Brittany.”
“That's different, we're hot.”
“Whatever.”
“S'tana?” Brittany yawned from the foot of the bed. “Snuggles?”
Before Santana could answer, there was a very sleepy blonde crawling up to the middle of the bed and draping herself over Santana's body and nuzzling her. Quinn smirked when Santana immediately wrapped her arm around Brittany's shoulder and pulled her in tight.
“Shut up, Fabray.”
“'Night, Lopez.”
Quinn got up and padded to the other side of the bed; Santana watched her carefully remove the trashcan from Rachel's grip and dab at her forehead with the washcloth from the nightstand. It wasn't sweet or anything. It was gross. Absolutely disgusting.
“They're cute,” Brittany whispered. “Like, totally in love.”
“Whatever.”
“Come on, I know you know it.”
Santana looked over again, Quinn was running her fingers through Rachel's hair and finally pressed a kiss to the brunette's forehead before settling back in the chair and maneuvering to where she could reach over and slip her hand into one of Rachel's.
“Fine, they're cute. But we're so hotter.”
“Totally.”
“When you go over to play with Danny, I want to go too.”
“I never-”
“You so did. You're like a stuffed animal, all cuddly and soft.”
“Whatever. Get some sleep.”
“Okay,” Brittany yawned. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Santana combed her fingers through Brittany's hair until the blonde was snoring softly. After a quick nod to Quinn who was still awake, Santana squeezed Brittany a little tighter and shut her eyes. She thought about how Rachel wasn't really all that bad, how she was glad that the Berry men contained Quinn before any real damage was done (more to her ego than anything), and that the girl in her arms was pretty fucking awesome. She dreamed of Power Rangers and robots and spoiled milk and then, finally, Brittany spinning a kid around and laughing. Only it wasn't Danny Allen. It was a kid with dark hair, dark eyes, and skin about the color of Santana's. She didn't know it until Brittany told her but, right before Santana awoke from the dream, she was smiling.
Pairings/Characters: Santana/Brittany, Rachel/Quinn, minor Mike/Tina, the rest of New Directions plus a few OCs
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~4,400
Summary: Sequel to Teenage Mutant Ninja...Teenagers. Kids birthday parties and being nice to Rachel Berry aren't really Santana's thing.
Author's Note: volcano89 @ Tumblr did absolutely amazing art for this fic. You should go check it out!
Puck & Sam vs Brittany's abs | The Glee Club Power Rangers | The Villains | Santana is a Softie | Present and Future
It wasn’t that Santana hated Rachel Berry…except she kind of did. She didn’t have a problem with her up until an hour ago, actually. Despite the fact that the girl played really dirty games of tag and roped Santana and Brittany into volunteering at the community center every other weekend after Halloween, Santana was actually starting to tolerate her. But ever since Rachel dropped this bomb that Brittany latched on to it was back to hating.
“Why would you do that, Berry?” Santana growled. “Why would you sign us up for that?”
“Santana, it’s important to give back to the community. The Allens are in a very tight place right now what with Mr. Allen having his hours cut back and Mrs. Allen attempting to remain at home with Danny. This is an excellent opportunity to bring light to a young boy’s life when he needs it the most. It’s one day.”
Santana shook her head. “You know I hate kids. I’m not herding brats at some kid’s birthday.”
“Danny Allen was Spider-Man for Halloween; surely you remember him?”
The kill shot. Santana growled. She still had the zombie picture tucked away in the top drawer of her desk and she’d more than once had the (very, very small) urge to ask Rachel who he was because, damn, that kid was awesome.
“So,” Santana sighed, “turtles?”
“Not exactly.”
Santana was so screwed.
-*-*-*-*-*-
“Santana, you can’t kick him, he’s on your side!”
Rachel’s screech echoed through the McKinley High gymnasium when Santana, again, planted a roundhouse kick to Puck’s jaw sending him to the floor. She smirked as he growled and got up to do nothing but walk away and massage his face. Rehearsal stopped and the members of New Directions that had been recruited into the physical aspect of Rachel’s volunteer project (everyone but Kurt and Mercedes, who were busy working on the costumes, and Artie who was working with the A/V club to make sure it was all captured on video) all grabbed their water bottles to take a quick breather.
“He moved,” Santana said with a smirk. She took a long pull from her water bottle and popped her neck before dropping down onto the bleachers with Brittany and snuggling close to her. The routine was already perfect but, Rachel being Rachel, insisted that they do it repeatedly to get it down before the official dress rehearsals.
Santana was actually shocked as hell when the rest of the glee club said they’d help out for the performance and herding all the little snot-factories after the show. Puck only agreed if he got to wear a badass costume and once Rachel told him the plan he was more than happy to join. Quinn kneed him in the groin when he asked if he and Rachel, true to the story line of the characters, would get to hook up. Finn complained that they weren’t really sticking to the story if four of the six protagonists were girls when there were only supposed to be two. Puck shut him up by reminding him that the costumes were practically spandex. It took six tries to run through the choreography to finally get through without Brittany stopping to protest the violence. It took another three tries before Tina and Mike stopped making out in the middle of the scene.
“Hey, Santana. Question.”
Santana looked up at Sam and Puck standing in front of her, both with their shirts off.
“Whose abs are hotter, babe?”
Santana only laughed, turned to Brittany, and stripped the girl’s shirt off of her leaving the blonde in a yellow sport bra.
“You both lose. Now, pick your jaws up off the floor and go somewhere else.”
“Her abs are totally better than mine,” Sam murmured. “I’ve gotta stop eating those Doritos.”
“I tapped that.”
They had to cancel the rest of rehearsal when Santana “accidentally” kicked Puck in the nads. And by "accidentally", she means that she walked up to him and did it purposefully. She then proceeded to drag Brittany to the locker room and, much to the protests of her other female teammates, “tap that” repeatedly in the shower. And she did it a lot better than Puck ever even thought about.
-*-*-*-*-*-
“I can’t believe I agreed to be a fucking Power Ranger,” Santana mumbled. “No wonder you like these costumes, Berry. The pattern looks like argyle on the chest.”
The costume fitting was a pain in the ass, mostly because Santana couldn’t pounce on her very hot looking girlfriend. Brittany was smiling happily while Mercedes made adjustments to the bright yellow spandex suit; Rachel bounced around to her wearing her matching pink one, looking almost too eager, as Kurt stood back to make sure his adjustments fit Santana’s red suit. Quinn had picked blue, Sam black, and Puck white. The villains were original creations when, after looking at what it would take for costumes, it was decided there was way too much work involved. So instead of Ivan Ooze, Rita Repulsa, and Lord Zedd it was decided that Finn, Tina, and Mike would be generic-looking evil robots. Their costumes only required a trip to the scrap yard and a little welding done by Burt Hummel to be considered done.
“This is going to be wonderful,” Rachel said. “Danny will be incredibly enthused. His mother said he was extremely excited when he found out the theme of his party.”
“It’s still not right to have four girls,” Finn mumbled as he walked by trying to adjust his metallic chest plate. “But it’s totally cool that he likes the original six the best.”
“I think I saw Lady Gaga wear something like this once,” Tina said, admiring herself in the mirror. Her metal clanked together as she walked off to meet Mike, despite Kurt yelling at them that if they got stuck again he would leave them that way.
“This reminds me,” Rachel said, “Someone needs to pick up grape Jell-O. While I am opposed to the use of gelatin due to its non-vegan nature, it complements the theme and the original movie.”
“Did you make Fabray sit down and watch it with you a thousand times or what?”
“She didn’t make me do anything,” Quinn said, striding up in her perfectly fitted costume. “I did it because I wanted to.”
“So whipped.”
“I am not.”
“You so are.”
Quinn smirked and Santana knew that smirk. That smirk meant trouble. It meant Santana was about to get to do something she really, honestly didn’t want to do. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
“Sweetie,” Quinn turned to Rachel, “I don’t think Santana’s ever seen the movie. There’s no way she’ll ever be able to get the role down.”
And that was how Santana found herself sitting in Rachel Berry’s living room an hour later with the rest of New Directions to “thoroughly research their respective roles”. Rachel brought out the popcorn and sodas before pushing the tape into the VCR (really? Who even has one of those anymore?) and pressing “play”.
“I hate you,” Santana muttered to her best friend.
“Never try to play games with the master.”
Brittany shushed the pair and Santana grumbled. Deciding she didn’t really have to watch the movie, Santana started roaming her hands over Brittany’s thighs only to have them pushed away. Brittany was actually engrossed in this thing. Quinn Fabray was going to pay. Fucking. Twat. Swat.
Ninety-five minutes later Santana was left wondering exactly how anyone made it out of the early and mid-nineties alive. Because, really? To the eyes of a teenager, that shit was…bad. If her kids wanted to watch that over and over again she would’ve killed herself. (Later on in college it would become a trend again and Santana would get to brag about having a costume but right then, totally fucking lame.)
“That was the lamest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“What?” Finn growled. “Come on, that movie totally kicks ass!”
“I played Power Rangers with my brothers, I think,” Brittany said. “They threw Jell-O at me a lot. That counts, right?”
“I want my hour and a half of life back.”
“The party is in a week, Santana,” Rachel said sternly. “You must learn your character.”
“I'm not watching that shit again.”
It was too late. Rachel was already pressing 'Play' and Brittany was squealing excitedly and the only thing Santana could do was bury her face in her hands and mumble “fuck my life”. Quinn was seriously going to get it.
XXXXXXXXXX
Santana grumbled as she zipped up the back of Brittany's costume; the sound of a dozen kids screaming in the Allen's back yard was already making her head throb and deep loathing for Rachel Berry was settling in the pit of her stomach. Their entrance cue was in ten minutes and, no matter how hard she tried, Santana couldn't get Brittany to agree to a quickie. This day was going to suck big time.
“Alright, ladies,” Rachel squealed, clapping her hands, “despite a few flaws in our routine I believe we're going to put on an exceptional performance this afternoon. Santana, remember that Noah is on our side and that kicking him will not be acceptable.”
“The mask might make it hard to see.”
“Danny would appreciate an authentic performance.”
Santana growled. Rachel was a fun-sucker.
The Power Rangers waited near the back door, the evil villains stationed outside and ready to burst into the back gate to “crash” the party. The sound of screaming kids cued Puck to fling the door open, cheers erupted, and Santana saw Danny Allen standing on top of a picnic table jumping up and down excitedly. There were a few missteps in choreography - no one expected three of the kids to “help out” and tackle Finn. Santana took on Mike with Puck and she threw her fake punches and actually didn't kick her teammate despite really, really wanting to just for fun.
The “villains” were eventually subdued and dragged out of the back yard to applause and screeching, the Power Rangers returned to be swarmed with small bodies. Puck immediately grabbed Danny and hoisted him up on his shoulders; Santana stripped off her mask and Danny started squirming until Puck let him down and the young boy made a straight shot for the girl in red.
“What's up, Spider-Man?”
“That was so cool!”
“Yeah? You liked that?”
“You were all like 'pow!' and then you were all over the robots and like punchin' them and stuff!” Danny spun around and kicked the air a few times before crashing into Santana and hugging her legs. “This is the best birthday ever.”
“It is pretty kicka-pretty awesome.”
“Did you see my cake?!”
Santana was dragged across the yard to the table where Danny's cake was set up with Power Rangers figures standing on it and the boy again reenacted a few of Santana's (fucking awesome) moves. She glanced up to see Puck with a kid under each arm and one on his back and Sam with one on each leg, happily carrying the kids around. Quinn and Rachel were with a couple of little girls rummaging through a giant box of princess clothes sitting in one corner of the yard; the villains had re-joined the party and Mike and Tina were attempting to coax three boys out of a tree (one of which was Finn). The only one missing was...
“Santana!” Brittany squealed as she practically tackled her girlfriend. “This is so much fun!”
The blonde picked up Danny and spun him around a few times and damn if it wasn't like one of the freakin' cutest things ever. If Santana was a softie (which she totally isn't) she would've had a flash of the future right then with her and Brittany and a kid being held between them. But she totally didn't. Whatever.
The rest of the party was a typical kid's birthday. They all ate cake and ice cream and one kid cried because he wanted a present that Danny unwrapped. Another kid threw up from too much sugar and one got lost (he was later found asleep in the tree with Finn).
One by one, the kids started to leave with their parents until it was the glee club and the Allens left to clean up the back yard. Danny perched himself on the porch swing with his Power Rangers action figures he had taken off the cake; Santana didn't do cleaning so she crashed next to him and picked up one of the action figures that stuck her in the ass when she did.
“You have a good birthday Spider-Man?”
“It was totally awesome!”
“Sweet.”
“At least that girl didn't try to sing again.”
“Day's not over yet, bud. Trust me, she'll try it.”
As if on cue, Rachel started in on “It's My Party” until Puck shushed her. Danny giggled.
“I like him.”
“He's cool sometimes.”
“I like you, too. You should come over and play sometimes.”
“I...I'm kinda uh-”
Danny's eyes got wide and he stuck out his lower lip and it was all it took to shatter that ice casing around Santana's heart. Because, fuck, kids are just cute.
“I'll talk to your mom and dad, okay?”
The grin on Danny's face was worth it. He crawled up on Santana's lap and she awkwardly flailed her arms for a bit before settling comfortably with Danny's head on her shoulder. In no time he was asleep and Mr. Allen came by to take him to his room.
“Your boyfriend tire himself out?” Rachel teased, following Mr. Allen into the house with a bag of trash.
“Shut it, Berry.”
“You shut it, Lopez,” Quinn growled, two steps behind Rachel. “And do something productive for once.”
“I was babysitting.”
“And now?”
“Screw you.”
Santana followed Quinn and Rachel into the kitchen and started washing dishes and helping Mrs. Allen spoon out leftover ice cream, cake, and snacks to the glee clubbers. By the end of the night they were all so hyped up on sugar that no one noticed a missing member of their club.
“Hey! Can, uh, can someone help me get down from this tree?”
XXXXXXXXXX
“So, ladies, what shall be our evening activity?” Rachel asked, turning off of the Allens' street.
Santana groaned as she held the ice pack on her back and mentally vowed revenge on that idiot Finn for getting stuck in that tree and landing on her when they were able to convince him that the jump wasn't that far. They'd changed out of their costumes and Santana had slipped her number to Mrs. Allen, glaring at anyone that dared question her. There was no way in hell she was letting anyone in on her soft spot.
“Park?” Brittany chirped. A roll of thunder and a flash of lightening made all four girls recoil and Santana immediately shook her head.
“No park tonight unless you want to get struck by lightning, babe.”
“It doesn't hurt that bad.”
No one asked any questions.
Rachel took executive decision and drove to her house; the foursome said hello to Rachel's dads and raided the kitchen. The three Cheerios nervously grabbed armfuls of food and quickly headed up the stairs, fearing being watched by potential bugs planted by Sue Sylveseter, and barricaded themselves in Rachel's room. Rachel grabbed West Side Story off of her movie shelf for the millionth time.
“No way, Berry. We've seen it.”
“It's a fantastic movie.”
“No.”
“Can we watch Care Bears?”
Just as Rachel moved to put the movie in, Santana's prayers were answered. The power went out. Rachel shrieked, Brittany landed on Santana's lap, Quinn laughed, and Santana vowed to start going to church more often. Hell yeah, divine intervention!
“What now?” Santana heard Quinn ask.
“Hell if I know. Me and B will just go home.”
“Not in this weather.” The deep voice that suddenly appeared in the doorway in combination with the loud clap of thunder and crack of lightning just outside the window made all four girls jump and scream and Rachel's dad laugh. “Thought you ladies could use some flashlights,” he said, handing off a couple lights. “Santana, Brittany, looks like you two will be staying here tonight. The storm isn't scheduled to move out for a while and it's bad out there.”
“Would it be advisable for us to move to the basement in the event of a tornado, Daddy?”
“No, sweetie, it's just a storm. If it gets any worse then I'll come get you girls.”
The foursome chirped a “thank you” and lit up the flashlights. Rachel had ended up on Quinn's lap with her head nestled on the blonde's shoulder. Santana almost rolled her eyes until she remembered that the extra weight on her lap belonged to her equally petrified girlfriend.
“Who's up for Truth or Dare?” Santana asked with a smirk. She loved getting dirt on people. It always came in handy.
“Last time we played that you made six Cheerios cry, Santana.”
“I can't help it if they were afraid of Puckerman's python.”
“Ew.”
“No, Rachel, he really does have a snake,” Quinn clarified. “One that slithers and hisses.”
“Still, ew.”
“They didn't have to hold it.”
“Ew.”
“I petted a snake once. It was yellow.”
Again, no one asked questions.
Fifteen minutes later, Santana was pissed at Rachel and Quinn's lack of interesting answers to her truth questions and their refusal to pick “dare”.
“You guys suck at this game.”
“I'm frankly petrified of what you would have me do if I were to pick dare given our tumultuous history.”
“Come on, Berry, I've been nice to you lately.”
Rachel sighed. “Alright, Santana. I'm placing my trust in you. Dare.”
“I saw a bag of beef jerky in your kitchen-”
“No! Absolutely not! I refuse to contribute to the slaughter of innocent cows!”
“One bite!”
“No.”
“Fine, I double dare you to drink a glass of milk.”
“Quinn, I demand you put a stop to this immediately!”
“It's the game.”
“Need I remind you that I can withhold.”
Santana gagged.
“Need I remind you that you bridged a forbidden topic earlier.”
“I was unaware that freshman year of Cheerios was a forbidden topic when I asked the truth of the strangest thing you'd ever eaten.”
Santana's reaction mirrored Quinn's and Brittany's as they all shuddered and whimpered; Quinn pulled her knees to her chest and Brittany started rocking back and forth. Santana felt the color drain from her face and her stomach churned. It was something the three of them vowed never to discuss again.
“Fine,” Rachel sighed. “A small glass of milk.”
Santana smirked. She followed Rachel down to the kitchen and watched her wrinkle her nose and choke down the milk; Santana told her to suck it up when Rachel complained that it tasted rancid and she was sure milk wasn't supposed to taste that horrible.
Rachel's dads looked up from their chess match and tilted their heads as the pair walked back through, Rachel looking like she'd just literally eaten shit and was about to die and Santana smirking. The smirk dropped from her face when Rachel gripped onto her stomach and darted for the downstairs bathroom.
“Is she okay?”
Santana shrugged. “I dared her to drink milk.”
“The milk in the refrigerator?”
“Uh, yeah. That's where milk is kept.”
“I didn't know we had milk. Honey, I thought you threw that away last week?”
“I didn't throw it away, I thought you did. It was a week expired and you said someone should throw it away; I thought you were going to after I left for the extra shift I picked up in the ER.”
“No.”
“Oh shii-oot,” Santana growled. “I'm so getting my butt kicked for this.”
“Sweetie, it's a mistake-”
“I'm more worried about Quinn.”
Neither man said anything and, by the faint light of the flashlights, she saw them both nod with sympathetic looks. Santana heard retching coming from the bathroom and took a deep breath before motioning to Rachel's dads that she would take care of it and following the path Rachel had taken a lot more quickly and entering the half-bathroom. Rachel was on her knees, head in the toilet.
“Oh God, please kill me now,” Rachel begged. “Just...just kill me. Oh sweet Barbra Streisa-”
Santana shuddered when Rachel heaved again. She figured that Quinn was going to kill her anyway so she might as well throw her dignity out the window. It was going to be difficult, but she had to do it. Fuck.
“I'm really sorry, Berry,” Santana said. She rummaged under the bathroom sink to produce a washcloth and ran it under the cold water. Rachel rested long enough to let Santana pull her hair back and drop the cool cloth on the back of her neck. “Your dads said the milk was like...two weeks expired.”
“And people wonder why I've chosen veganism.”
“Because you're a weirdo.”
“You know, I know that underneath your tough exterior is a very caring person.”
“Whatever.”
“Two words: Danny Allen.”
“Shut up.”
“It's alright to admit you have soft spots. Take right now, for instance. While you could be laughing at me or just simply not caring, you're instead choosing to play caretaker.”
“Yeah, well, your girlfriend is going to kill me so figure God might give me a couple brownie points for being nice as my last act.”
“Still, it's very...Oh dear Patti LuPone, not aga-”
While Rachel heaved again (God, that sound was disgusting) Santana rubbed circles on her back until she felt someone pull at her shirt and practically throw her into the hallway. Everything after that was a little fuzzy thanks to hitting her head on the wall but from what Santana remembered before Rachel's dads pulled Quinn off was being screamed at about poison and Rachel dying.
XXXXXXXXXX
“Lopez?”
Santana groaned and grabbed the back of her throbbing head, cursing Quinn Fabray to an eternity of Hell as she moved to try to sit up. She glanced around a little; the power had come back on, judging by the night light plugged into Rachel's bedroom wall, and Quinn was knelt down by the side of the bed.
“What do you want?”
“Sorry about...earlier.”
“Fuck, Quinn. I didn't poison anyone. And where did you learn to scrap?”
“The Power Rangers choreography kind of helped out.”
“Fuck the Power Rangers.”
“You okay?”
“I guess. How's Berry?”
Quinn gestured to the other side of the bed where Rachel was curled up with a trash can, snoring. Brittany was sprawled out on the foot of the bed, and there was a pillow and blanket on the lounge that had been pulled up to Rachel's side of the bed cluing her in that Quinn had been camped out there for a while. God, that was sickeningly sweet. Ew.
“Rachel's dads told me what happened after they made sure you guys were okay and got you upstairs. Sorry, again.”
“Don't worry about it,” Santana chuckled, "I'll get you back."
“Rachel told me if I didn't apologize profusely that when we moved to New York, I would have to sleep on the couch.”
“You're going to New York with her?”
“Yeah. I just...I really love her.”
“That's disgusting. You're going to make me puke.”
“Oh, come on, like you're not totally in love with Brittany.”
“That's different, we're hot.”
“Whatever.”
“S'tana?” Brittany yawned from the foot of the bed. “Snuggles?”
Before Santana could answer, there was a very sleepy blonde crawling up to the middle of the bed and draping herself over Santana's body and nuzzling her. Quinn smirked when Santana immediately wrapped her arm around Brittany's shoulder and pulled her in tight.
“Shut up, Fabray.”
“'Night, Lopez.”
Quinn got up and padded to the other side of the bed; Santana watched her carefully remove the trashcan from Rachel's grip and dab at her forehead with the washcloth from the nightstand. It wasn't sweet or anything. It was gross. Absolutely disgusting.
“They're cute,” Brittany whispered. “Like, totally in love.”
“Whatever.”
“Come on, I know you know it.”
Santana looked over again, Quinn was running her fingers through Rachel's hair and finally pressed a kiss to the brunette's forehead before settling back in the chair and maneuvering to where she could reach over and slip her hand into one of Rachel's.
“Fine, they're cute. But we're so hotter.”
“Totally.”
“When you go over to play with Danny, I want to go too.”
“I never-”
“You so did. You're like a stuffed animal, all cuddly and soft.”
“Whatever. Get some sleep.”
“Okay,” Brittany yawned. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Santana combed her fingers through Brittany's hair until the blonde was snoring softly. After a quick nod to Quinn who was still awake, Santana squeezed Brittany a little tighter and shut her eyes. She thought about how Rachel wasn't really all that bad, how she was glad that the Berry men contained Quinn before any real damage was done (more to her ego than anything), and that the girl in her arms was pretty fucking awesome. She dreamed of Power Rangers and robots and spoiled milk and then, finally, Brittany spinning a kid around and laughing. Only it wasn't Danny Allen. It was a kid with dark hair, dark eyes, and skin about the color of Santana's. She didn't know it until Brittany told her but, right before Santana awoke from the dream, she was smiling.