fic: Siren Song
Siren Song
Glee; Brittany/Santana; pg-13; 523 words
Look out the window at that storm.
For lauriestein's prompt at my advent calender.
~*~
It snows so hard that Coach Sylvester cancels practice, which is unheard of. She's had them cheer during heat waves and thunderstorms, but there's so much snow that they'd all be invisible behind it and doing stunts would bring on more lawsuits than even she'd be willing to handle.
Santana's shocked. During her time as a Cheerio, practice has never been canceled and anyone who wasn't there-including due to injury-was cut on the spot. Nevertheless, she's hardly complaining. It's nice to wear something besides her uniform for once, though she stands in front of her closet for fifteen minutes with only her bra and panties on trying to figure out what to wear. All her clothes are practically brand new.
With an unexpected day off, she has no plans, either, so she settles on an oversized sweater and skinny jeans-comfortable yet hot. Puck's visiting his family for Hanukkah, but he promised to bring her back something from his grandma's medicinal stash, so there's that. For a few minutes, she actually feels like Rachel, the friendless loser, until her phone buzzes with a text.
It's from Brit. did u c the mersedes-size hale? it reads, and Santana has to laugh. The sad thing is Brittany's probably not joking, but it's all part of her charm.
i'm coming over, Santana replies before she can stop herself. This shit with Artie needs to end now. No way he's as good in bed as Santana is, and once she reminds Brittany of that, things will go back to being how they were. She raids the liquor cabinet before she goes, since Brittany's parents only keep shitty stuff in the house. They think it'll "discourage Brittany and her friends from abusing alcoholic beverages," which is pretentious Dutch genius-speak for "Brittany's not getting trashed on our watch." It's actually so stupid. Santana thinks they should do what the rest of Europe does and start their kids on it early.
The snow's only half-cleared from the streets, so it takes her twice as long as it normally does to get to Brittany's house. She cranks up the volume on Rihanna and Drake's new hit, singing along when she feels like it. As much as she does like glee club (which as much as she'd deny that fact), Santana loves being able to just wail in her car and pretend she's Beyoncé or something.
Brittany's waiting at the door when Santana pulls into the driveway, wearing only a pair of very short striped boyshorts and a tank top. "My parents took Lindsay to a science museum or something. They said I should start a fire instead of turning the heat on. I don't know how to do that. My lighter didn't work." Then, without any pretense, she kisses Santana right there in the doorway. It must be safe to say they're doing that again. "Mistletoe," Brittany says, glancing up at the sprig of leaves and berries. "Tradition in the family and all. I couldn't break it."
"Guess we shouldn't break it, then," Santana says. "Or we could just do it in front of the fireplace."
Glee; Brittany/Santana; pg-13; 523 words
Look out the window at that storm.
For lauriestein's prompt at my advent calender.
~*~
It snows so hard that Coach Sylvester cancels practice, which is unheard of. She's had them cheer during heat waves and thunderstorms, but there's so much snow that they'd all be invisible behind it and doing stunts would bring on more lawsuits than even she'd be willing to handle.
Santana's shocked. During her time as a Cheerio, practice has never been canceled and anyone who wasn't there-including due to injury-was cut on the spot. Nevertheless, she's hardly complaining. It's nice to wear something besides her uniform for once, though she stands in front of her closet for fifteen minutes with only her bra and panties on trying to figure out what to wear. All her clothes are practically brand new.
With an unexpected day off, she has no plans, either, so she settles on an oversized sweater and skinny jeans-comfortable yet hot. Puck's visiting his family for Hanukkah, but he promised to bring her back something from his grandma's medicinal stash, so there's that. For a few minutes, she actually feels like Rachel, the friendless loser, until her phone buzzes with a text.
It's from Brit. did u c the mersedes-size hale? it reads, and Santana has to laugh. The sad thing is Brittany's probably not joking, but it's all part of her charm.
i'm coming over, Santana replies before she can stop herself. This shit with Artie needs to end now. No way he's as good in bed as Santana is, and once she reminds Brittany of that, things will go back to being how they were. She raids the liquor cabinet before she goes, since Brittany's parents only keep shitty stuff in the house. They think it'll "discourage Brittany and her friends from abusing alcoholic beverages," which is pretentious Dutch genius-speak for "Brittany's not getting trashed on our watch." It's actually so stupid. Santana thinks they should do what the rest of Europe does and start their kids on it early.
The snow's only half-cleared from the streets, so it takes her twice as long as it normally does to get to Brittany's house. She cranks up the volume on Rihanna and Drake's new hit, singing along when she feels like it. As much as she does like glee club (which as much as she'd deny that fact), Santana loves being able to just wail in her car and pretend she's Beyoncé or something.
Brittany's waiting at the door when Santana pulls into the driveway, wearing only a pair of very short striped boyshorts and a tank top. "My parents took Lindsay to a science museum or something. They said I should start a fire instead of turning the heat on. I don't know how to do that. My lighter didn't work." Then, without any pretense, she kisses Santana right there in the doorway. It must be safe to say they're doing that again. "Mistletoe," Brittany says, glancing up at the sprig of leaves and berries. "Tradition in the family and all. I couldn't break it."
"Guess we shouldn't break it, then," Santana says. "Or we could just do it in front of the fireplace."