Fic: Keep On Actin' Like a Fool
Title: Keep On Actin’ Like a Fool
Author: mallardeer
Rating: PG-13, for f-bombage
Pairing: Implied Brittany/Santana (possibly one-sided)
Spoilers: Through episode 1.18, “Laryngitis”
Summary: Santana had her hands full.
Author’s Note: What the hell was Santana’s deal in “Laryngitis”? I have…attempted an explanation. I also harbor this belief that Santana actually likes Kurt a lot. PS: This is actually kind of angsty. No fluff at all.
Santana had her fucking hands full. Puck wouldn’t stop whining. Kurt was trying to be butch. Brittany was trying to hit on Kurt. And now Mercedes was totally falling for Puck. Of all the girls in glee, she honestly thought Mercedes would be the last one she’d have to worry about going for that worldclass manwhore, but it was happening, and it was making Santana sick.
She hadn’t meant to get so worked up; she hadn’t meant to shove Mercedes like that, but really. How could she be so stupid? Puck treated girls the same way Santana treated guys, as nothing more than conquests and potential to up their reputations. Mercedes deserved better than that-even though nothing on this earth could have made Santana admit that out loud.
That’s why she’d gotten in the other girl’s face, gotten all worked up about that stupid song-as if any boy, let alone Noah fucking Puckerman, were worth fighting over. Mercedes was not getting it, and on top of all that, Brittany was still making googly eyes at fucking Kurt, and fucking Kurt was having a fucking mental breakdown, and so Santana just lost it, shoved Mercedes, and stomped out of the choir room.
There was a girls’ bathroom across the hall, so she hid in there, leaning against a sink and trying to recover her composure. Why should she even care about what Mercedes fucking did? Why did she care about any of these losers? Kurt was breaking her heart, trying to be more like Finn so his dad would like him better, and Brittany was too sweetly clueless to see that he was just pretending. She’d pretty much lost Brittany to Kurt these days, in fact, but she had too much to handle with Puck and Mercedes to go chasing her down.
Closing her eyes, she wished someone would chase her down for once. Just as she banished that thought from her mind-it would not do to demonstrate any weakness, even to herself-the bathroom door opened, and she saw a flash of blonde in the mirror. For a split second, she allowed herself to think Brittany had actually come after her, but then she turned, and her heart fell.
“Fabray, do not lecture me right now,” she groaned, but Quinn just arched a brow.
“You’d get better results if you’d just say what you really mean,” she said.
Santana rolled her eyes. “What are you babbling about?” she asked disdainfully, but Quinn Fabray was the one person she’d never been able to fool.
“You’re worried about her. Just like you were worried about me when I was the one dumb enough to think Puck cared about me,” she said levelly, and Santana was on the verge of giving in and confessing.
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” she said, attempting to blow past her former friend, but Quinn grabbed her arm.
“Santana,” she said softly, and the sympathy in her voice was enough to get Santana’s shoulders to slump. “I’m worried about her too. I tried to use you to scare her off. But it didn’t work.”
Santana smirked. “Why didn’t you scare her off yourself? You used to be pretty scary.”
Quinn shrugged. “I couldn’t muster up the energy to even pretend to care what Puck does,” she admitted, and Santana laughed. “I never thought she’d really go for him.”
“Me neither,” Santana sighed.
“She said she knew what this was, that he was just using her, but…” Quinn shrugged.
“They all fall for him.”
“Did you do this to Rachel, too?” Quinn asked suddenly, and Santana barked a laugh.
“Rachel? Please. She’s too in love with herself to ever fall for anyone, let alone Puck,” she said snidely. “Besides, she can handle herself.”
“You really think that?” Quinn asked.
“She was never in danger of falling for Puck,” Santana said, instead of answering the question. Quinn left it alone.
“You’re worried about Kurt, too.”
“Will you shut up, please?” Santana practically begged. “Kurt will figure his shit out.”
“I’ve seen you watching him. I’ve seen you watching her with him, too.”
“Quinn! We’re not friends anymore,” Santana yelled, not wanting to think about any of these things, but most especially Brittany going after Kurt.
Quinn looked stung, but at least she’d shut up. “Santana, it doesn’t make you weak to care about people. I’m starting to learn that.”
“I am not taking advice from the knocked up former president of the celibacy club,” Santana sneered, and this time when she tried to shove by, Quinn let her.
Author: mallardeer
Rating: PG-13, for f-bombage
Pairing: Implied Brittany/Santana (possibly one-sided)
Spoilers: Through episode 1.18, “Laryngitis”
Summary: Santana had her hands full.
Author’s Note: What the hell was Santana’s deal in “Laryngitis”? I have…attempted an explanation. I also harbor this belief that Santana actually likes Kurt a lot. PS: This is actually kind of angsty. No fluff at all.
Santana had her fucking hands full. Puck wouldn’t stop whining. Kurt was trying to be butch. Brittany was trying to hit on Kurt. And now Mercedes was totally falling for Puck. Of all the girls in glee, she honestly thought Mercedes would be the last one she’d have to worry about going for that worldclass manwhore, but it was happening, and it was making Santana sick.
She hadn’t meant to get so worked up; she hadn’t meant to shove Mercedes like that, but really. How could she be so stupid? Puck treated girls the same way Santana treated guys, as nothing more than conquests and potential to up their reputations. Mercedes deserved better than that-even though nothing on this earth could have made Santana admit that out loud.
That’s why she’d gotten in the other girl’s face, gotten all worked up about that stupid song-as if any boy, let alone Noah fucking Puckerman, were worth fighting over. Mercedes was not getting it, and on top of all that, Brittany was still making googly eyes at fucking Kurt, and fucking Kurt was having a fucking mental breakdown, and so Santana just lost it, shoved Mercedes, and stomped out of the choir room.
There was a girls’ bathroom across the hall, so she hid in there, leaning against a sink and trying to recover her composure. Why should she even care about what Mercedes fucking did? Why did she care about any of these losers? Kurt was breaking her heart, trying to be more like Finn so his dad would like him better, and Brittany was too sweetly clueless to see that he was just pretending. She’d pretty much lost Brittany to Kurt these days, in fact, but she had too much to handle with Puck and Mercedes to go chasing her down.
Closing her eyes, she wished someone would chase her down for once. Just as she banished that thought from her mind-it would not do to demonstrate any weakness, even to herself-the bathroom door opened, and she saw a flash of blonde in the mirror. For a split second, she allowed herself to think Brittany had actually come after her, but then she turned, and her heart fell.
“Fabray, do not lecture me right now,” she groaned, but Quinn just arched a brow.
“You’d get better results if you’d just say what you really mean,” she said.
Santana rolled her eyes. “What are you babbling about?” she asked disdainfully, but Quinn Fabray was the one person she’d never been able to fool.
“You’re worried about her. Just like you were worried about me when I was the one dumb enough to think Puck cared about me,” she said levelly, and Santana was on the verge of giving in and confessing.
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” she said, attempting to blow past her former friend, but Quinn grabbed her arm.
“Santana,” she said softly, and the sympathy in her voice was enough to get Santana’s shoulders to slump. “I’m worried about her too. I tried to use you to scare her off. But it didn’t work.”
Santana smirked. “Why didn’t you scare her off yourself? You used to be pretty scary.”
Quinn shrugged. “I couldn’t muster up the energy to even pretend to care what Puck does,” she admitted, and Santana laughed. “I never thought she’d really go for him.”
“Me neither,” Santana sighed.
“She said she knew what this was, that he was just using her, but…” Quinn shrugged.
“They all fall for him.”
“Did you do this to Rachel, too?” Quinn asked suddenly, and Santana barked a laugh.
“Rachel? Please. She’s too in love with herself to ever fall for anyone, let alone Puck,” she said snidely. “Besides, she can handle herself.”
“You really think that?” Quinn asked.
“She was never in danger of falling for Puck,” Santana said, instead of answering the question. Quinn left it alone.
“You’re worried about Kurt, too.”
“Will you shut up, please?” Santana practically begged. “Kurt will figure his shit out.”
“I’ve seen you watching him. I’ve seen you watching her with him, too.”
“Quinn! We’re not friends anymore,” Santana yelled, not wanting to think about any of these things, but most especially Brittany going after Kurt.
Quinn looked stung, but at least she’d shut up. “Santana, it doesn’t make you weak to care about people. I’m starting to learn that.”
“I am not taking advice from the knocked up former president of the celibacy club,” Santana sneered, and this time when she tried to shove by, Quinn let her.