Stronger than this (2/?) Artie: Stick It
Title: Stronger than this. (2/?) Artie: Stick it
Pairing: Santana/Brittany; Santana/Puck bromance
Rating: R (For Language)
Summary: Artie’s POV a month after “Sexy”. This fic starts with some pent up Santana with multiple character POV’s and builds to battle royal.
Spoilers: Season 2: Sexy
Chapt 1: Santana - Chapt 2: Artie - Chapt 3:Puck - Chapt 4: Rachel - Chapt 5:Finn - Chapter 6: Santana - Chapter 7: Kurt
Chapter 2
Artie: Stick it
Somehow I’ve morphed into a little girl: insecure, lovesick, and pathetic. Sitting beside her now, I can’t seem to organize the jumble of thoughts in my head and pricking along my arms.
I adjust my glasses, rub my eyes, and lean my chair a bit more toward her on the couch. With a subtle grace, Brittany leans in and shoots me a kind smile before looking back to the television. We were watching ‘Stick It’ again, for the third time this week. Brittany loved it, especially when Missy Peregrym’s character, sore from practice, lifts herself from the bathtub of ice: Her flat stomach and abs glistening with cold water. Every time we got to the spot, she’d rewind it a bit and watched again. I imagined it inspired her. Cheerleading, like gymnastics, was a tough sport, not made for your average sissy.
It was a good movie, well the first two times, but this time around I couldn’t help but fidget. “Hey Britt-Britt,” I lean in, “mind if we stop it here and do somethin’ else?”
“Sure Artie,” she nods reaching over for the remote to click off the TV. The moment the TV screen goes blank we sit in silence.
She crosses her legs, adjusts her skirt, and sighs.
Instantly, I wish I had left the movie playing… anything was better than the silence. Silence was static.
“I finally got the new Call of Duty game,” I grin. It’s tiiight.”
“Yeah?” she grins back, “You wanna play it?” I can easily tell she's not interested.
“No, no…” I laugh a bit hesitantly. “Just wanted to tell you.”
Brittany’s neck bends as she runs her fingers through her hair. “Cool.” She nods and smiles at me again.
Once again, silence…
Once again insecurity seeps in. Is this how it was with Tina? Somehow I can’t remember. Things were different a month ago… it seems back then, she thought everything I did was funny and charming. She convinced me to wear goofy hats and we’d roll around the school not caring about the looks we got. Brittany was like me in that way, neither of us spent too much time thinking of what we must look like as a couple. We just were and it worked great. Well… until recently things *were* great. Now, I could feel her pushing away.
You a’ight?” I cut to the chase.
She blinked. It caught her off guard. Most things caught her off guard, it seemed to me. Nodding too quickly she collected herself, started to say yes, then frowned a bit. “I’m worried about some things is all: Cheerio practice and Glee and things,” she said, then, with a look of absolute sincerity, she reached out and touched my arm. Her blue eyes connected with mine as she squeezed my elbow. “I’m sorry Artie,” she said her lips curling into a partial smile, “I’ll be better.”
Instantly a sea of relief washed over me from her blue eyes. She nodded again, “You’ve been great to me.” She pat my arm. “What do you wanna do?” She brightened. “We should buy bike spoke beads and put them on your wheels! They have this neon kind that glows in the dark!”
“That would give me some real flava!” I call showing my pimp face with a grunt. When she giggles, it makes me feel irrepressibly witty.
Three sharp knocks at my door and the joke is gone.
Standing, Brittany taps my arm and goes toward it. “I got it,” she smiles back at me.
It’s hard to see much from my angle beside the couch, but as the door opens it’s easy to see Brittany instantly tense up. Her arms once lightly at her sides stiffen. Elbows buckle. “H-h-Hey,” she stutters carefully backing up. Glancing back at me, I can see she’s petrified.
There are voices at the door, two voices pushing through.
I recognize the first immediately, callous and deep. “Hey Miss. Pierce!” Puck’s voice calls jovially, “Nice skirt… I can almost see through it.” As he enters, he ducks down a bit to get a closer look at Brittany’s legs. Following him, comes Santana. Her strut and chin point up confidently. Passing Puck and Brittany, she nudges Puck away from the thin skirt.
“Creep.” She says snidely, crossing them to stand near the couch.
Once there, Santana lifts the open movie case from the coffee table and laughs aloud, flashing the cover to Brittany. “’Stick It’,” she reads taping the case with a fingernail, then turns to me, and motions to Brittany. “Hey Artie, you ever lick the screen at the bathtub scene and then lick each other?”
I laugh aloud, “No..” then laugh again.
She shrugs aloofly, “People sometimes do.”
The room feels thick with tension as Brittany stands frigidly by the door. Puck rakes a hand through his dark mohawk trying to stifle a laugh, then crosses the room beside Santana, and takes a seat on the couch. He looks to me to fill the silence. “Is that so? I may have to borrow it sometime, wheels,” he says allowing himself a quick laugh. He takes the movie cover from Santana and turns it in his hands. “That cool?”
“It’s not mine,” I admit looking to Brittany.
Obviously flustered, Brittany scratches her elbow hesitating then nods to agree. I instantly feel both bad for her and relieved for me. Maybe we could watch the X-men movie trilogy now… anything but that. But Brittany stands still in place watching him handle her prize. She bites her lip as she watches the movie pop out from the DVD player and enter Puck’s pocket.
For a moment a softened look crosses Santana’s face watching her. I don’t particularly enjoy it. Reaching out her palm she shakes her head at Puck, “Give it back idiot.”
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask a bit too anxiously. Something in Brittany has completely shut down and I can’t help but wonder if Puck’s ogling has really offended her in some way.
Sitting at the sofa, Puck quickly looks to Santana to answer, who yawns and arches her eyebrow back at him. “After you,” she smirks tossing the DVD back onto the table.
“Really?” Puck squints back at her with a scoffing laugh. Somehow they’re sharing a joke that I don’t understand. He turns his head slowly back to me with an amused grin, like he’s playing the greatest game he knows. “Well..” he glances at Brittany then back at me, “we happened to drive by…” Puck rubs his hands on his dark denim jeans. He’s stalling, that much is clear… “and… Santana here, though we’d check to see if you’d be down for a foursome.”
My mouth drops, “You serious?”
I look to Brittany who still doesn’t show an ounce of emotion until Santana thunks Puck hard, squarely in the back of the head, to which she cracks her first smile since the pair got here.
“You are so lame.” Santana chides bringing her attention back to Brittany and me. I laugh as Puck groans and rubs the back of his head. Santana had a way of doing things like that, making people laugh without meaning to. I knew that she figured we all hated her; she seemed particularly guarded around me, but without someone like Santana… the likes of Puck and Rachel would run amuck. Every group of friends needed someone to take out the trash. Leaning on her right hip, Santana eyes us. Methodically she breathes in, her full lips purse. “Actually, Britt I came to tell you something.”
Brittany shoots me a glance, but then immediately turns her attention to Santana. “Right now? Here?” Her voice is gentle. Santana nods. “Alright…”
“I didn’t make it to Cheerio practice this morning,” Santana confesses. She scratches the back of her neck then targets her full attention on Brittany.
“Yeah,” Britt mused coming closer into the room, “I noticed. I worried.”
“Well,” Santana voice is tight and controlled. “I got a call from Coach Sylvester. She cut me from the team.”
It’s clear the words cut Brittany; she shakes her head down and looks as if she’s bound to cry, “Santana, I… I’m so sorry.”
“No,” Santana argues taking another step toward her. Their eyes meet again, “I’m sorry. I gave up when things got hard.” She breathes in. “It was a mistake, Brittany. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”
Puck shakes his head and cuts in, “Santana, you can’t just change her… Sue’s… mind.” He shrugs, “Doesn’t work that way.”
Turing toward him, Santana protests, “You fight for the things that matter most to you.”
Puck takes a minute to register this… though I don’t know why. Before he was on Glee with us, he fought over the simplest of things. He once tried to fight me for a wad of already chewed gum.
As Puck leans back into the couch, Santana continues looking back at Brittany. “That is my spot, Britt. Do you understand what I’m saying? No one belongs there but me.”
Brittany looks helpless.
“I’m going to fight for it. That’s where I belong and no one is going to take it from me.”
There is a moment of silence; even Puck seems focused on the conversation. I can’t help but feel bad for Santana, to be honest. Getting cut from a team that means so much would be hard. I’d loose my cool completely if someone said I couldn’t be on the Glee club. I nod at them and cut in. “Well, if you need anything from me, I’d try to help.” I add.
Immediately Brittany turns to me with a look of compassion and almost pity. Her moist eyes sparkle with care. Shaking her head, she turns back to Santana. “No,” she says her voice is weak somehow. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Gritting her teeth, Santana looks at me. Her face is determined, solid, ready for battle… in only the way Santana Lopez can be.
I nod at her with encouragement. “I think you should go for it, Santana” I agree, “Never give up what you love most.”
Brittany dips her head, as if my words hurt her. Somberly, she walks to me and touches my arm. “Artie, you don’t mind if I go, do you?” She asks with heavy eyes; looking exhausted. I reach to cradle her, but she steps back. Santana reaches forward for her too, but she backs again toward the door. “Goodnight everyone,” she says.
“Wait!” I call after her before she can escape. Turning back to me, I point to the DVD on the table. “Don’t forget your movie.”
Santana lifts the DVD case from the table and hands it to Brittany with a grin, “Stick it…?” she confirms with a an arching eye, “Really…”
Taking the movie, Brittany cracks another smile. She can't seem to help it, which doesn't make a bit of sense to me. The two of them had a kind of language of there own... and it seemed even Puck was more clued into it than I was. Turning away, a sincere laugh follows shortly in a quick slip from her lips… She shakes her head and rubs her eyes forcing the laugh away...and I’m a little jealous… wishing I could make her laugh that way.