fic: A Slippery Slope - Part Two
Title: A Slippery Slope - Part Two
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Will, New Directions, Sue, Dr. Lopez, Mrs. Lopez, Marisa Lawson, Figgins
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Reactions and consequences to Rachel being slushied.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~13, 050
Spoilers: Not really, though reading the previous story would probably help.
A/N: Technically starts before the end of Assume Crash Positions.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
series masterlist
Part Two
Monday morning, no one really notices anything is different until the warning bell for first period rings. Then the students begin rushing to class, only to find that they’re unable to go up the stairs. It seems someone’s made the stairs a slide.
Some students attempt to walk up anyway, pulling themselves up with the rail, but very few are successful. It doesn’t help that once they reach the landing, they have to pull themselves up another flight of stairs.
A few teachers, upon seeing this, simply shrug and go to inform Figgins.
At the other stairwell, people are having a similar experience, though no one’s attempting to get up the stairs. They’re all huddled together, staring at the plexiglass that has turned the stairs into a slide.
…
“Why is it always Mondays?” Figgins grumbles, following several of his staff down the hall. He can hardly believe what he’s hearing and so he has to see it himself. The huddle of students near the stairwell is his first indication. They part and allow him to stand at the bottom.
It looks simple enough. There’s a massive piece of plexiglass covering the stairs, making it more like a slide. He yanks two jocks from the crowd and has them attempt to take the plexiglass off. To no avail. It seems that it’s very firmly attached. They can’t even move it an inch.
“It’s screwed down,” jock number one tells him, crouching down to examine it.
“Now what?” Someone calls from the crowd of students.
Figgins sighs and does a mental count of how many classrooms are on the second floor. “To the gym,” he tells them. “I’ll make an announcement in a moment.”
Everyone tramples towards the gym, their volume growing as they discuss this very odd development.
Back in his office, he has his secretary tell the students at the other stairwell to go to the lunch room.
“You wanted something, boss?”
Figgins looks up to see his lead janitor standing in front of him. Explaining the odd situation to him, Figgins demands it be fixed by the end of second period.
“We’ll do our best, boss,” the janitor replies. “But if it’s the prankster, it means it was done pretty thoroughly. This guy doesn’t fuck around.”
Figgins waves him off, knowing full well how the prankster wreaks havoc at this school. "Just get it up immediately." And then Figgins is heading back to his office to make an announcement about the stairs.
"Easier said than done," the janitor mumbles, going off to find his tools.
…
It takes the janitors nearly all day to pry the plexiglass off the stairwell. Because not only were they screwed down, there was also apparently glue involved. It also didn’t help that the screws were stripped, making it almost impossible to remove them.
However, the real surprise of the day was the envelop they found under the plexiglass that simply read, To the Janitors.
The lead janitor, Tony, rips it open and pulls out a short note.
Dear Janitorial Staff,
I am very sorry how much work I am causing for you. I know this one was probably the most difficult yet. However, I am having too much fun to stop anytime soon. I hope you understand.
The McKinley Prankster
Tony smiles because yeah, it’s been a total pain cleaning up these pranks, but it’s also given him and two others job security. Because as long as the prankster’s around, Figgins can’t fire them; he needs them. Still, it was nice of the kid to apologize. Especially because they’ve never really gotten a thank you from Figgins about anything they’ve done.
He debates whether or not to show this note to Figgins and decides not to. Instead, he relays the message to Bob and Mitch, the other two janitors and stuffs the note in his pocket. He knows the principal will just analyze the shit out of the note, in hopes of find a clue. However, Tony is willing to be, he won’t find any. The note is typed and probably on the school’s computer. Beyond the odd lack of contractions, the note doesn’t seem to give anything away. It’ll make a nice daily antidote for his wife over dinner tonight.
…
The rest of the day, classes that would be held on the second floor are held haphazardly in the gym and lunch room. Needless to say, not much gets done.
…
"Noah, can I ask you a question?" Rachel asks Puck as they walk to lunch.
"Yeah?"
"Why is Finn getting pushed around so much? I noticed it happening a bit last week, but today it's been especially brutal. I saw his head snap against a locker earlier."
"Good," Puck growls.
"Noah."
"You remember a few weeks ago when Ferguson, Williams and Bester got busted by Figgins for smoking pot in the furnace room? And were suspended for like two weeks?"
"No," Rachel replies.
"Yeah, you do," Puck tells her. "I told you about it. How the stoners were all pissed at the jocks for losing their smoking spot until they found a better one next to the vending machine with a broken lock because they can have a damn Kit Kat whenever they want now?"
"What does this have to do with Finn.
"I told all the jocks that Hudson was the one that let it slip."
"Why?"
"Because he deserves the abuse. And more."
"I'm not so sure about that," Rachel replies. "What did he do?"
Puck stops walking and waits for Rachel to face him. In a very un-Puck-like move, he grabs both her hands. "Trust me, bro. You don't want to know."
"I'm sure I don't," Rachel agrees. "Nonetheless, I would like to know."
"You don't, Rach," Puck replies. "Maybe I'll tell you eventually. But right now you don't want to know."
Rachel's eyes narrow at this statement. "Fine. For now. "But don't think this will be forgotten, Noah."
"Trust me," Puck replies. "I don't."
…
The stairs being turned into a slide is possibly the most ridiculous thing yet and the whole school is abuzz.
"I still think they could have let me ride down it," Artie says at lunch. "It's basically a ramp. It would have been a hell of a ride."
"Safety issues, I'm sure," Tina replies.
"When did this school become so concerned about safety?"
"You just asked the wrong person," Puck tells him. "I bet the janitors would have let you."
"So it's your fault for going to class," Rachel says. "We should have all done it. Stolen a sled or something."
"That would have made a horrible noise," Tina replies. "Something akin to nails on the chalkboard."
"Do they even have chalkboards anymore?" Artie asks.
"You guys are losing focus," Kurt interrupts.
"How so?" Rachel asks.
"If the prankster is going to start pulling such elaborate pranks, we may be in trouble."
"You don't think turning the school into a castle was elaborate enough?" Puck asks.
"I'm not sure you know the proper definition then, Kurt," Artie adds.
"Elaborate inside the school," Kurt clarifies. "I have concerns."
"Maybe you can write the prankster a letter," Mercedes suggests.
"And how would I deliver it?"
"School paper?" Tina offers.
"We have a school paper?"
"No offense Kurt," Rachel says. "But what could you need to say to the prankster?"
"Why do you care?"
"Can't I be curious?"
"Fine," Kurt says. "One, is he going to start doing things a person could consider dangerous--"
"A person?" Puck questions.
"Two," Kurt continues, ignoring him. "What if someone starts trying to copy him? I'll give the prankster credit, everything he's pulling seems safe and relatively harmless. But considering the cretins that attend this school, I can't see us being lucky enough to not suffer something."
"Are there that many possible candidates?" Rachel asks. "I mean who at this school is both badass and cunning enough to pull that off?"
"I have some thoughts."
Rachel sighs. "It's not Santana."
"She's the answer to the question I asked," Kurt replies.
"Where do you think he found all that plexiglass?" Tina asks.
"Hardware store," Puck suggests.
"And no one noticed?"
"This is Lima."
…
Tuesday morning, Will is determined to not be hit by a slushie. He'll check his chair, his desk and the ceiling. Sue Sylvester isn't going to get the best of him.
However, he didn't anticipate an immediate full frontal assault. The moment he steps into his office, he's hit with a wave of grape slushie. It's the worst yet because it hits almost his entire body, sparing only his ankles and feet.
At least he brought a change of clothing he thinks as he wipes the stinging cold syrup from his face. And even though he's still holding the spare clothes, he feels confident that they're still clean and protected in his gym bag.
He hurries to the bathroom and changes. It's not a good start to the morning.
…
Tuesday after glee, Will asks Rachel to stay.
“What do you need Mr. Schue?” Rachel asks primly after everyone else has left.
“I need some revenge ideas,” Will answers.
“Um, why?”
“It’s for this, uh, screenplay I’m writing,” Will stutters.
“Oh. Couldn’t you just google stuff?” Rachel questions. “I mean, isn’t that what people do? Google stuff?”
Will nods, though internally cursing. Why didn’t that occur to him? “I guess,” he allows. “I just thought I’d ask you because you’re an excellent planner.”
“Right,” Rachel says. “Is Coach Sylvester going after you again, Mr. Schue?”
Will nods, sadly, knowing he can’t tell her what Sue’s doing. He knows he’ll get no sympathy from Rachel.
“I’m not sure I can help then, Mr. Schue,” Rachel tells him. “I don’t want to go up against Coach Sylvester.”
“Rachel,” Will says. “As your teacher, I would take full responsibility for whatever consequences arise.”
Rachel grimaces. “You say that, but I’m not so sure. Besides, even if that was true, you can’t protect me from Coach Sylvester. She’s like a tidal wave. She just takes out everyone and thing in her path.”
“She is, uh, forceful,” Will agrees. “But that’s hardly a reason-“
“I’m sorry, Mr. Schue,” Rachel interrupts. “But I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Will sighs. “It’s fine.”
“Is it all right if I go then?” Rachel asks. “I’m sure Santana is waiting for me.”
“Of course, Rachel,” Will answers. “Thanks for your time.”
“Bye Mr. Schue.”
…
“What’d Schuester want?” Santana asks as they drive to the Berrys’.
“Apparently,” Rachel says. “Someone is harassing Mr. Schue. He wanted some ideas of how to strike back.”
“Oh. Did you give him any?”
“Of course not,” Rachel replies. “He thinks it’s Coach Sylvester. Which is absurd, really. However, with that belief being firmly held by him, I can honestly say, I don’t want to go against Coach Sylvester.”
“Who would?”
“Crazy people and idiots.”
“Exactly.”
“But isn’t it odd?” Rachel muses. “That Mr. Schue is suddenly getting harassed. I wonder how it’s happening. Is it the same thing over and over, which definitely would be annoying. Or is it something different each time so he doesn’t know what to expect.”
“Mystery,” Santana agrees.
“Uh huh.”
They drive in silence for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel notices the grin on Santana's face growing. There are only two reasons for that smile to grow. And Rachel's hands are firmly in her lap. So that leaves only one option.
"What did you do?"
"Whadda mean?"
"You're smirking."
"Maybe I'm just smiling," Santana responds. "Because I'm happy."
"Yes, but why are you so happy?"
"I get the spend the afternoon with my girl," Santana replies. "What other reason do I need?"
"Uh huh," Rachel nods. "Who do you think you're talking to?"
"The most beautiful and talented girlfriend in all of Ohio?"
"Who knows you," Rachel says.
"Yeah. And?"
"Santana."
"Rachel."
It's silent in the car until they reach the Berry residence.
"I suppose this is one of those things I don't want to know and that you'll explain to me later?" Rachel asks as Santana parks in the driveway.
"Yes?"
Rachel doesn't answer, just exits the car.
Santana groans and chases after her.
"Why must you keep things from me?" Rachel asks once Santana catches up to her in her room.
"It's no big deal."
"Noah's doing that too," Rachel says. "And while you both probably have valid reasons, it just makes me feel worse."
"Don't compare me to Puck."
"Why?"
"We just want to protect you," Santana answers.
"Which I appreciate. Really," Rachel says. "But I also resent being treated like a child that can't handle that the world can be cruel. You both know that I am well aware of that fact."
"Rach."
"Unless you're both doing something I'm not comfortable with," Rachel muses. "I suppose then I could interpret your secretiveness as a way to avoid an argument, which I can understand."
"Thank you?"
"Maybe I'm just scared," Rachel continues. "I mean, what if you two are returning to the old ways."
"I would never--"
"It's always been a concern, a fear even, that things will go back to the way they were."
Santana doesn't say anything, just pulls Rachel into her arms.
"I'm being stupid," Rachel mumbles into Santana's shoulder.
"Course not. Sometimes I worry about that too."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Santana answers. "I mean, me and Puckerman are better, but we're still susceptible to peer pressure. We always have been; maybe not as much as some, but more than others."
"You're not reassuring me."
"I'm being honest," Santana tells her. "I figured you'd rather have that."
"Just promise me you're not being too cruel," Rachel says as she falls onto her bed, dragging Santana with her.
"I swear."
…
Wednesday Kurt gives Finn a ride to school.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Kurt says. "How come you're such a target around the halls lately?"
"Um, I'm not sure."
Kurt glances over at Finn out of the corner of his eye. He looks especially sheepish.
"Liar."
"I don't want to talk about it, all right?"
"Finn, I just want to help."
Finn sighs. "I pissed off Puck last week. Maybe this is him getting back at me."
"What'd you do?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Come on, Finn," Kurt says. "I'm sure it's not that big of deal."
"Kurt, just drop it."
"Fine," Kurt huffs. "Forgive me for wanting to help."
…
Will is extremely cautious when he enters his office Wednesday morning. He checks his chair, his desk, the ceiling, the door frame, everywhere he can think of. He finds no evidence and hopes that it's over.
When the bell for first period rings, his confidence grows. Perhaps it was just a few day thing. Well, now he can certainly understand where the kids were coming from. Worrying about being slushied sucks. He's just glad he can return to his normal days.
…
Rachel is pulled into Figgins' office the moment she steps inside McKinley. This time she's anticipating it. She'd been surprised it hadn't happened on Tuesday. He must have been busy dealing with other things.
"I'm sure you know why you're here, Ms. Berry."
"Perhaps you could enlighten me, Principal Figgins."
Figgins sighs. "The prankster has struck again. Perhaps you could provide some insight."
"Sir, I'm not sure why you're continuing this futile exercise," Rachel replies. "You already know what my answer is."
"Why do you keep refusing?"
"I can't tell you things I don't know," Rachel tells him. "Real evidence is one thing, but speculation and rumors have no merit."
"I'm not sure you understand the desperate level I'm at here, Ms. Berry."
"On the contrary," Rachel replies. "The fact that you're constantly harassing me is a very telling sign. However, I can't help you."
"You disappoint me, Ms. Berry."
"Yes, well, I have nothing to say to that." Rachel stands. "If you'll excuse me, I need to visit my locker before first period."
…
It's quiet as Will eats his lunch. Despite the chaos that always seems to be going on in the hall, when the door is closed, he can pretend otherwise. He wonders if that makes him pathetic.
He's just finishing a banana when a rush of cold and ice is dropped on him again. Grape slushie. Again.
Looking up he sees two slushie cups dangling from the ceiling. Several drops fall and one hits him straight in the eye. It stings and he fights back tears.
Standing, he grabs a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom to change.
…
"So I figured out why Finn's getting pushed around," Mercedes tells Kurt as she sits down at the lunch table.
"Yeah?"
"All the jocks think he snitched."
"About what?"
"I'm not sure," Mercedes admits. "But it's about those three guys that got suspended for like two weeks."
"So he broke some sort of jock code?"
Mercedes shrugs. "I guess. Except I can't see him doing that."
"Yeah, me either."
"You think Finn knows?" Mercedes asks.
"Yeah, he does. He thinks Puck's behind it."
"Why?"
"Some lover's spat they're having."
"Maybe if he just apologizes," Mercedes suggests.
"Yeah, maybe," Kurt agrees. "Problem is, doesn't seem like he will."
"Then I guess he's stuck being the school's tackling dummy."
…
"I think it's going pretty good," Santana says as she walks to her car with Quinn and Brittany after Cheerios practice.
"Well Mr. Schue certainly looks miserable this week," Quinn replies. "I guess that's what we're going for."
"I think it's going great," Brittany adds.
"What now, Q?" Santana asks. "Normally you don't worry about the feelings of the little people."
"You make me sound rather cruel," Quinn tells her.
"You can be sometimes, Q," Brittany says. "But San and I don't mind. We are too."
"She's right, Fabray," Santana adds. "Maybe you should stop fighting things so much and just accept them."
Quinn stares at Santana for a moment. "You're one to talk."
"At least I'm trying."
"I am too," Quinn insists. "I'm sorry I'm not doing it on your timeline."
"Guys," Brittany says.
"Sorry, Britt," they chorus.
…
By the time Thursday rolls around, Will can say without a doubt that he understands what his glee kids were insinuating the week before. Having the threat of a slushie hanging over him is horrible. At least they could kind of see it coming. He has been constantly blindsided. He's finding it very disorientating.
…
Finn is miserable. The whole time he'd spent being slushied when he thought he'd gotten Quinn pregnant wasn't as bad as his week has been. Because before he'd been mostly ignored. These past few days he's been pushed, shoved, punched, kicked and had things thrown at him. The jocks have been relentless, doing something to him almost every time they pass him in the hall or while sitting in class. He has to sit in the back corner of the room so he doesn't have anyone behind him. The classes with assigned seating are the worse.
He knows this is all Puck's doing. He just wishes he could figure out a way to stop it. Because if the other guys really think he squealed, this isn't stopping anytime soon and he's not sure how much more he can take.
…
Lunchtime finds Rachel sitting on the edge of the auditorium stage with Marisa Lawson. When the freshman had approached her earlier in the day, Rachel could only hear the echo of Santana's words in her mind. Still, she agreed to meet for lunch.
Rachel is carefully eating her carrots as Marisa eats a sandwich and swings her legs against the side of the stage. They're not really talking and for once, Rachel's okay with that. She doesn't know what to think about Marisa constantly seeking her out lately. She has no problems with it; she simply wonders what started the need.
"How do you know if this is what you're meant to do?" Marisa asks eventually, gesturing to their surroundings.
"How do I specifically?" Rachel asks. "Or people in general?"
"Both, I guess."
"I've just always known," Rachel answers. "There's never been another option. I've never wanted to do anything else. Thankfully, I have the immense talent to pull it off. I'm not sure what I'd do if I couldn't."
"Oh."
"As for other people?" Rachel continues. "I'm not sure. I assume it has to get inside you. You have to want it. Want it more than you want anything because want alone isn't enough to make it happen. That intense want has to drive you to anything and everything it takes to make it happen."
"Yeah, that makes sense."
"Why do you ask?"
"Some days I just wonder if I'm good enough," Marisa explains.
"You can't let this place get you down," Rachel tells her. "I know it's tough. Trust me, I know. But you're better than this place. And you'll get out of here and be something amazing."
"You think so?"
Marisa's voice is so full of hope, it actually gives Rachel pause.
"It's only my opinion, Marisa," she says finally. "But I think good things are in your future."
"Thanks, Rach."
…
Will stops by his office before glee. He's been on edge the entire day, but he hasn't been slushied yet and since the school day is over, he feels confident the threat is over; at least for today.
Digging around on his desk, Will searches for the music he needs for this afternoon. He tries to hurry because he doesn't need to experience another Rachel Berry lecture about promptness.
He then remembers he hastily stuck it in the bottom drawer when a student had come in during lunch to ask for help.
Opening his bottom drawer turns out to be a mistake. Instead of sheet music, he gets a slushie facial. Sputtering through the pain, because he didn't have a chance to close his eyes, Will tries to stay calm. Getting angry at this point is useless; his goal now should be to clean up.
Will stands and grabs his change of clothing from the other bottom drawer before heading to the bathroom. He's definitely going to be late. Hopefully Rachel will be too distracted to notice.
…
Quinn is on her way to the choir room for glee practice when she runs into Rachel.
"Oh, hello Quinn," Rachel says, never breaking her stride. "Are you ready for glee?"
"I suppose so," Quinn replies, falling into step next to Rachel.
"You sound tired. Is Coach Sylvester running you ragged this week?"
"Something like that."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Rachel replies. "But I suppose it's worth it if you win again?"
"It usually is at the time," Quinn tells her. "Some days it's difficult to remember that, though."
"Well, hopefully, glee will be a nice distraction."
"Hopefully."
…
Glee is particularly dreary Thursday afternoon. Mr. Schue's focus seems to be elsewhere and it's affecting how the kids perform. It doesn't help that Finn is avoiding Puck, Mike, Santana and Rachel while looking like a kicked puppy. Kurt and Mercedes are too busy trying to analyze everyone to pay the proper attention. Santana seems to enjoy smirking at Mr. Schue while Quinn is actively avoiding him. For reasons Rachel can't fathom, Brittany can't seem to stop touching her, which is, of course, throwing off the choreography.
Finally Rachel can't take it anymore. "Mr. Schue," she interrupts. "Perhaps we could take a five minute break while everyone tries to regain the focus they never had so we can have a proper practice."
"That sounds like a good idea, Rachel," Will agree. "Five minutes, guys."
Finn immediately skulks into the corner while Puck stands nearby, glaring at him. Brittany pulls Rachel into the nearest chair and plops down next to her. She tugs Quinn down on the other side of her and just grins madly when Santana joins Rachel on her chair, each sitting on half.
The air in the room is anything, but gleeful. Rachel has a feeling this might be another useless practice. She wonders if their drama is going to stop them from winning anything because of their lack of focus. It's difficult to care though when Santana is teasingly running her hands up and down her back, going as far to slip under her shirt.
Distractedly, Rachel watches the seconds tick by. When the break is finished, she jumps up and tries to use her exuberance to compel the others to throw themselves into the song.
…
Rachel is gathering her things together after glee when she notices Mike is still seated in the second row.
"Mike, practice is over," she calls out.
Mike smiles. "I know. Just don’t feel like leaving quite yet."
Rachel smiles back. "You might be the only one. Everyone else is extremely eager to leave this place."
"Yeah, I don't think everyone's having a good week."
"Some better than others I'm sure," Rachel replies. "But isn't that always true?"
Mike nods. "It is." He stands. "Can I walk you out?"
"Sure."
He's next to her, offering his arm with she accepts with a giggle. They stroll out of the room and into the hallway.
"You need a ride home?" he asks.
"No, Santana's coming over," Rachel answers. "She's probably waiting at her car."
When they reach the parking lot, they can see that Santana is indeed waiting for Rachel. The Cheerio is leaning against the hood of her car, arms and legs crossed, a lazy grin on her face. Of course it slowly disappears when she sees Rachel arm in arm with Mike.
Rachel knows Mike sees this and knows what it means, but his steps don't falter as he walks her to the car. They unloop arms and Mike kisses the back of her hand just to tweak Santana a bit.
"M'lady," Mike says as he lets go of Rachel's hand. "Have a nice evening ladies. I'm sure I'll see you both tomorrow." He half bows, not wanting to turn his back on Santana yet, as he walks away. Spinning on his heel, he begins to whistle tunelessly as he walks to his car, a few spots over.
Getting into his car, he knows he should feel bad about baiting Santana, but his intentions were innocent. Besides, he'd have to be suicidal to go after Rachel. Hopefully she knows that. Well, if she doesn't, Mike is sure Rachel will mention it.
…
Will is glad it's Friday for more than one reason. The biggest being after today he won't have to worry about being slushied for two whole days.
He'd feel better if he knew when or how it was going to happen. The sneak attacks are the worst of it in his mind.
Nor can he figure out how Sue is pulling it off. Not only setting things up, but the timing. How does she know where he's going to be at a certain time. Is he that predictable?
Maybe he should shake up his routine a bit. Take a different hallway when given the chance and that sort of thing. Maybe that will help cut down on the attacks.
…
"So you're really not going to tell me?" Rachel asks Santana as they readjust their clothing.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Santana replies.
"Santana."
Seeing they're as put back together as they're going to get, Santana slowly opens the door of the second floor janitor's closet and sticks her head out. Because it's lunch, the hallway is empty and so she slips out, followed by Rachel.
"Why can't I just have a thing?" Santana asks, entwining their fingers as they walk towards the stairs. "I mean, you don't tell me everything you're doing."
Rachel sighs. "You're right. Of course. I am being rather intrusive. I apologize. I'm just worried. However, try to see from my point of view. You've got some big badass project you're working on that you won't tell me about. Normally you can't wait to brag about it. How am I supposed to interpret this?"
"You just assume it's some big badass project," Santana points out. "Maybe I've taken up knitting and I'm embarrassed."
"I'm not sure you have the patience for knitting, tiger."
"Well, no, I don't. But you get my point."
"I suppose I do."
"Okay then?"
"Just promise me you're being careful," Rachel says. "I worry."
"I won't get caught, babe. I promise."
…
Just as she leaves Rachel at her locker, Santana turns to find Becky standing in front of her.
"Coach Sylvester would like to see you," she says.
Santana nods and follow Becky down the hall to Coach's office. She sits and waits for Coach to speak.
"I'm thinking of making you Cheerios captain," Coach says finally.
Santana's jaw drops. "Say what?"
"You're torturing my nemesis," Coach answers. "In a way that hadn't even occurred to me. It's outstanding."
"Q and Britt are helping to," Santana mentions.
"Still, I have no doubt that it was your idea."
"Of course it was my idea," Santana replies. "He doesn't get to be so fucking nonchalant about Rachel getting slushied. Not after all I did to make sure it stopped."
Coach Sylvester grins. "Because unlike William, you protect your people."
"Damn straight. You're really not going to make me captain, are you?"
"You don't want it?"
"Not anymore," Santana says. "I've got what I need."
"Jesus, I'd worry that Berry has ruined you if I didn't know she wasn't setting you up for larger things."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll figure it out," Coach Sylvester smirks. "Dismissed."
…
Lunch is nearly over and Will hasn't been slushied. He knows there's still plenty of time in the day, but the longer he goes without being hit, the better he feels. The end of the week and a small break from it all is getting closer and closer.
He finishes up his food and corrects the last of the quizzes he needed to get through. As he's cleaning up his desk, the bell rings and he stands. He grabs his things and exits his office.
Except the minute he steps through the door, a slushie falls onto him. Grape. Again.
He wipes his eyes clear and spins on his heel. He digs out his spare set of clothes and still holding his teaching materials, heads for the bathroom. If he's lucky, he can clean up quickly and only be a minute or two late for class.
…
"Mr. Schue, you got a minute?"
The final bell rang about ten minutes ago, so Will is surprised to look up and find Finn standing awkwardly in his office doorway.
"Of course, Finn, come on in. Have a seat."
Finn sits and just looks at Will.
"What can I help you with, Finn?" Will asks finally.
"Um, well, the thing is, I need some advice, I guess."
"Okay."
"Let's say I'm getting, uh, bugged about something that I didn't do. And I don't know how to stop it."
"What do you mean, bugged?"
"You know, people messing with me or whatever."
"Have you tried talking to them?"
"Talking wouldn't work," Finn answers. "Trust me, Mr. Schue, talking definitely wouldn't help."
"Have you tried standing up to them?"
"That wouldn’t work either, Mr. Schue."
"Why not?" Will asks.
"It just wouldn't."
"Well, then, besides someone stepping in on your behalf, I'm not sure what else to say."
"Yeah, I kinda figured."
"Finn," Will says. "I want to help. Maybe if you just tried standing up to them. I know you'll be out numbered, but it might make them reconsider if they know you're going to fight back. Or maybe you could ask one of the guys, like Puck to help you out."
"Puck?" Finn almost chokes on the name. "I don't think Puck would help me out right now."
"Why not?"
"He's kinda pissed at me right now."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Well, if you want me to talk to Figgins, I can," Will offers. "Maybe he ca--"
"No way, Mr. Schue. Thanks but no thanks. That'll just get me tossed in a dumpster."
"Seriously?" Will asks. "That's not right."
"Course not, Mr. Schue," Finn replies. "Maybe I just need to wait it out a bit. Hopefully they'll find a new target soon."
"If you're sure," Will tells him.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Finn stands. "Thanks for listening, Mr. Schue."
"Course Finn. Anytime."
…
"Why do you think Rachel isn't coming to dinner Sunday night?" Santana asks.
She's lounging on her bed, beer in hand. Quinn is stretched out next to her holding a bottle of water while Brittany's on the floor because she feels the need to shift every few seconds and kept causing beer and water to be spilled on the bed.
"I still can't believe how cool your parents are with everything," Quinn comments.
"After Puck, Rachel is like a dream come true," Brittany pipes up.
"Well, that's certainly true," Quinn says.
"Well?" Santana says. "I asked a question."
"She's your girlfriend, Lopez."
"Maybe she actually has something else going on," Brittany replies. "Maybe her lesson really did get rescheduled. You know how busy Rach is. Sunday would be one of the few days she could do a make up."
"True," Santana allows.
"Why so paranoid, Lopez?"
"I'm not paranoid, Fabray," Santana snaps. "I'm curious."
"Uh huh, whatever you say."
…
Rachel's glad she was able to turn down Sunday dinner with the Lopez's this week. It's not that she doesn't enjoy it, because she does. It's been a while since she's sat down to a family dinner. Her fathers aren't around enough for it.
She just wants to give Santana a little space. She knows she pushes Santana a lot. Though this family dinner thing was more Mrs. Lopez, Rachel would rather not tempt fate. She doesn't want to crowd Santana. She tries not to, but every once in while, she forgets.
Staring at her phone, Rachel has an urge to call Santana. For some reason, she wonders if her girlfriend is thinking about her. Sometimes if she is, she'll send a text.
However, tonight Rachel has no idea. Because she's supposed to be at her lesson, she turned off her phone like she would if she really was at a lesson.
She knows she's playing a bit of a dangerous game. If Santana finds out she lied, she might not believe that Rachel just wanted to give her space. Hopefully she won't assume infidelity. Rachel really believes they're past believing that.
Well, she hopes anyway.
…
Monday morning, Will strolls cautiously into his office. He doesn't bother doing his usual checks. They don't seem to do any good. Whoever is doing this, seems to be at least three steps ahead of him.
It has to be Sue. Who else could it be? The dedication alone reminds him of no one else. Well, except Rachel, but he knows she would never--would she?
Will shakes his head to himself. He feels fairly confident that it isn't Rachel. She isn't the type. Santana, maybe, but he's not sure she has that kind of focus if it doesn't involve defiling her sexual partner.
When the warning bell for first period rings, Will lets out a sigh of relief. At least for now, it seems he's slushie free.
…
Rachel is leaving second period when she sees Finn in the halls. She's about to wave at him when he notices her. His eyes go comically wide and he abruptly changes direction. He almost takes out a couple of Cheerios as he does so.
Rachel doesn't know what to think about his reaction. She stands in the hallway for a moment watching Finn scurry away. She'll have to ask Noah later what that was all about.
…
Gathering his things at the end of the day, Will is apprehensive. The fact that he's made it this far into the day without being hit doesn't bode well in his mind. He wonders if he's going to be exiting the school. If so, maybe he'll be able to figure out who's behind these attacks.
He walks slowly through the deserted halls, listening. Nothing sounds out of the ordinary. However he's been deceived before.
When he reaches the main door, he pauses trying to see any evidence of an attack. He can't see anything, but he's learned that doesn't seem to matter.
Only when he's pulling out of the parking lot, does Will let out a sigh of relief. Maybe whomever it is got bored and gave up. He smiles. Maybe tomorrow will be an all right day.
…
Puck has barely seen Finn this week. Too bad; he's curious how Hudson's handling being a punching bag this week. Maybe now he'll understand why what he did to Rachel is so horrible.
Though knowing Finn, probably not.
He knows he should feel guilty, but he just can't. He's sick of his attitude. He understands the guy was hurt when Rachel broke up with him, but it was all his doing. Puck wonders if he's realized that yet.
Puck wonders when Rachel became his best friend and Finn became just a douchebag he has to occasionally deal with.
…
Tuesday morning, Will drives to McKinley believing that his days of being slushied are over. It was most likely just a week thing to teach him a lesson, he muses. It makes sense. Or if it was Sue, it was just a distraction. It's not the first time she's messed with him for a week and then moved on. It probably won't be the last either.
Still, Will can't help but feel a little jubilant about his day. He walks across the parking lot humming under his breath.
Just as he's reaching for the door handle, a waterfall of grape slushie falls on him. He quickly wipes his eyes and looks around. Except for the icy cold drink covering him and the concrete, there's no proof anything happened.
Cursing to himself, he heads inside, going immediately to the bathroom to change.
…
"You ever feel like we're missing something?" Mercedes asks Kurt as he digs through his locker.
"Such as?"
"I don't know," she replies. "It just feels like there's something big going on and we're missing some details."
"We could investigate."
"I wouldn't even know where to start," Mercedes replies.
"Well your feeling must be coming from somewhere," Kurt points out.
"Yeah, maybe."
"We'll just keep our eyes and ears even more open. We just need to finely tune our senses."
…
Wanting to work on a song over lunch, Rachel heads to the choir room. However once she arrives, she finds that it isn't empty.
"Oh, hi, Mike."
"Hey Rachel."
"Sorry, I didn't think anyone else would be here," Rachel says.
"It's fine," Mike replies. "Just didn't feel like eating in the lunch room."
"I can leave if you want to be alone."
"Why are you here?" Mike asks.
"I wanted to practice a song," Rachel answers.
"Oh. Okay. Go ahead."
"Are you sure? I mean, if you didn't want company…"
"It's fine. You practice. I'll eat. And I'll get some nice lunch music. Right?"
"If you're sure," Rachel says.
Mike nods.
Rachel smiles and sits at the piano.
…
Tired of the treatment he gets during lunch, Finn hides in the bathroom. The second floor boys bathroom has very light traffic during lunch, she he hides in one of the two stalls and eats his lunch.
The smell is kinda hard to take. It's slowly killing his appetite. Still, he keeps eating because he doesn't know what else to do.
Some days he wishes he was smarter. He really wishes he could come up with a way to end all the harassment. But every idea he comes up with does no good. And now he's given them more ammo to laugh at.
Finishing his sandwich, he's no longer hungry. He looks at the rest of his lunch, but just drops them on the floor. Feeling pitiful, he leans his head against the stall wall and waits for lunch to end.
…
After glee, Tuesday, Rachel literally grabs Will before he exits the choir room.
"I don't think it's Coach Sylvester, Mr. Schue," Rachel tells him
"Why is that, Rachel?"
"Because she said it wasn't her."
"That's hardly a compelling reason," Will says.
"Mr. Schue," Rachel begins. "It's no secret that Coach Sylvester hates me less than she used to."
"True."
"I feel confident that it's not her. Because if it was, she would most likely relish in telling me about it," Rachel explains. "She knows there's nothing I can do if she is."
"That's an interesting theory--"
"I think it's the prankster."
"What? How would--Why?"
Rachel half shrugs wishing she would think before she speaks. "I just do. It's the only thing that makes sense besides Coach Sylvester."
"I suppose that's true," Will mulls. "If it's not Sue, then he's the only other person who could pull it off."
Rachel fights back a bristle at the word, 'he'. She knows very few people think the prankster is female. She also wonders why she's blaming the prankster when she know full well it isn't her.
"Though I'm not sure if that's comforting or not," Will continues. "I mean, he's gone on for so long without being caught. What are the odds he'll stop with me anytime soon?"
"I guess it depends on the reason why he started."
"Yeah." Will sighs. "Well, thanks for the insight, Rachel."
"You're welcome, Mr. Schue. Break a leg."
…
"What's up with you?" Santana asks Rachel.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel counters.
"You're been weirdly quiet for far too long."
Rachel supposes that's true. They've been studying for almost an hour and she's barely said a word. It probably didn't help that she was so quiet on the drive over.
"I just don't feel like talking," Rachel replies.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Why?"
"It's just you haven't been around too much lately," Santana pouts.
"Awww, I'm sorry, San," Rachel replies. "You've been busy too, you know."
"Yeah, well how come every time I see you lately, you're with Chang?"
"You mean that one time last week when we walked out of glee together?"
"What about today during lunch?" Santana asks. "You were both in the choir room."
"So?"
"What am I supposed to think?"
"Nothing," Rachel replies. "I was practicing a song and he just wanted to be alone. So we were both in the room being alone together."
"That makes no sense."
"It's Mike," Rachel says. "He and I are friends. And we really only see each other at school."
"Yeah, okay," Santana says. "Just seems like the guy's around lately."
"Perhaps it's the slushie thing," Rachel replies. "People have been acting weird since I was slushied."
"Maybe."
…
Wednesday, Will doesn't know what to think anymore. He enters the school cautiously. Nothing happens. He enters his office warily. Still nothing happens. He checks his surrounds as best as he can before sitting at his desk. He begins planning his day, absently drinking his coffee.
About fifteen minutes later he hears a small twang like a spring has been released before the sound can completely register, he's covered in grape slushie.
Looking around he sees a small catapult. It has an enormous bucket attached to it that is still dripping grape flavor.
Growling to himself, Will finds his extra clothing and goes to the bathroom to change.
When he enters he's hit in the face with another slushie. Thankfully, it doesn't hit his spare set of clothes. Still, it's shocking. The double dose of cold stickiness is extremely unpleasant and he fights the urge to scream.
Instead, he wipes his face clean as best he can and goes into a stall to change.
…
Watching a irritated, ice covered Schuester stalk to the bathroom, Sue can only smile. If she gets to start out a majority of her days watching William Schuester be humiliated and annoyed, it's a good day.
She has to hand it to Lopez. Sue can't believe it never occurred to her to Sluhie William. Watching his apprehensive anticipation is delicious.
While she understand why Lopez turned down her offer of captain, Sue almost wishes she had accepted. She didn't expect her to, so at least she's not disappointed.
And really, to take it from Fabray might be considered harsh. After all the girl did work her way back up to the top. She earned her captaincy back so easily because her transformation was so quick. It seemed to Sue that one minute the blonde was onstage at Regionals, big as a house and then it was a new year and standing in front of her was pre baby Fabray, in shape and ready to be on top again.
Sue can admire that kind of dedication, especially when it benefits her. So she's glad to let Q keep her spot. But S needed to have her approval of her extracurricular activities. Perhaps with that encouragement, she'll keep it up.
…
Santana is having too much fun slushing Mr. Schue. She can see how frustrated he is by it. The variations in time and location are driving him crazy. Which, of course was her goal. She figures the long she does this, the less he'll be able to write off being slushied. Maybe he'll even eventually feel bad for not protecting people better.
But she doubts it.
She's going to keep it up. She probably won't continue doing it daily, but at least once or twice a week to keep him on his toes. The waiting and the not knowing is probably the worse part.
Santana's going to enjoy every moment of it.
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Will, New Directions, Sue, Dr. Lopez, Mrs. Lopez, Marisa Lawson, Figgins
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Reactions and consequences to Rachel being slushied.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~13, 050
Spoilers: Not really, though reading the previous story would probably help.
A/N: Technically starts before the end of Assume Crash Positions.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
series masterlist
Part Two
Monday morning, no one really notices anything is different until the warning bell for first period rings. Then the students begin rushing to class, only to find that they’re unable to go up the stairs. It seems someone’s made the stairs a slide.
Some students attempt to walk up anyway, pulling themselves up with the rail, but very few are successful. It doesn’t help that once they reach the landing, they have to pull themselves up another flight of stairs.
A few teachers, upon seeing this, simply shrug and go to inform Figgins.
At the other stairwell, people are having a similar experience, though no one’s attempting to get up the stairs. They’re all huddled together, staring at the plexiglass that has turned the stairs into a slide.
…
“Why is it always Mondays?” Figgins grumbles, following several of his staff down the hall. He can hardly believe what he’s hearing and so he has to see it himself. The huddle of students near the stairwell is his first indication. They part and allow him to stand at the bottom.
It looks simple enough. There’s a massive piece of plexiglass covering the stairs, making it more like a slide. He yanks two jocks from the crowd and has them attempt to take the plexiglass off. To no avail. It seems that it’s very firmly attached. They can’t even move it an inch.
“It’s screwed down,” jock number one tells him, crouching down to examine it.
“Now what?” Someone calls from the crowd of students.
Figgins sighs and does a mental count of how many classrooms are on the second floor. “To the gym,” he tells them. “I’ll make an announcement in a moment.”
Everyone tramples towards the gym, their volume growing as they discuss this very odd development.
Back in his office, he has his secretary tell the students at the other stairwell to go to the lunch room.
“You wanted something, boss?”
Figgins looks up to see his lead janitor standing in front of him. Explaining the odd situation to him, Figgins demands it be fixed by the end of second period.
“We’ll do our best, boss,” the janitor replies. “But if it’s the prankster, it means it was done pretty thoroughly. This guy doesn’t fuck around.”
Figgins waves him off, knowing full well how the prankster wreaks havoc at this school. "Just get it up immediately." And then Figgins is heading back to his office to make an announcement about the stairs.
"Easier said than done," the janitor mumbles, going off to find his tools.
…
It takes the janitors nearly all day to pry the plexiglass off the stairwell. Because not only were they screwed down, there was also apparently glue involved. It also didn’t help that the screws were stripped, making it almost impossible to remove them.
However, the real surprise of the day was the envelop they found under the plexiglass that simply read, To the Janitors.
The lead janitor, Tony, rips it open and pulls out a short note.
Dear Janitorial Staff,
I am very sorry how much work I am causing for you. I know this one was probably the most difficult yet. However, I am having too much fun to stop anytime soon. I hope you understand.
The McKinley Prankster
Tony smiles because yeah, it’s been a total pain cleaning up these pranks, but it’s also given him and two others job security. Because as long as the prankster’s around, Figgins can’t fire them; he needs them. Still, it was nice of the kid to apologize. Especially because they’ve never really gotten a thank you from Figgins about anything they’ve done.
He debates whether or not to show this note to Figgins and decides not to. Instead, he relays the message to Bob and Mitch, the other two janitors and stuffs the note in his pocket. He knows the principal will just analyze the shit out of the note, in hopes of find a clue. However, Tony is willing to be, he won’t find any. The note is typed and probably on the school’s computer. Beyond the odd lack of contractions, the note doesn’t seem to give anything away. It’ll make a nice daily antidote for his wife over dinner tonight.
…
The rest of the day, classes that would be held on the second floor are held haphazardly in the gym and lunch room. Needless to say, not much gets done.
…
"Noah, can I ask you a question?" Rachel asks Puck as they walk to lunch.
"Yeah?"
"Why is Finn getting pushed around so much? I noticed it happening a bit last week, but today it's been especially brutal. I saw his head snap against a locker earlier."
"Good," Puck growls.
"Noah."
"You remember a few weeks ago when Ferguson, Williams and Bester got busted by Figgins for smoking pot in the furnace room? And were suspended for like two weeks?"
"No," Rachel replies.
"Yeah, you do," Puck tells her. "I told you about it. How the stoners were all pissed at the jocks for losing their smoking spot until they found a better one next to the vending machine with a broken lock because they can have a damn Kit Kat whenever they want now?"
"What does this have to do with Finn.
"I told all the jocks that Hudson was the one that let it slip."
"Why?"
"Because he deserves the abuse. And more."
"I'm not so sure about that," Rachel replies. "What did he do?"
Puck stops walking and waits for Rachel to face him. In a very un-Puck-like move, he grabs both her hands. "Trust me, bro. You don't want to know."
"I'm sure I don't," Rachel agrees. "Nonetheless, I would like to know."
"You don't, Rach," Puck replies. "Maybe I'll tell you eventually. But right now you don't want to know."
Rachel's eyes narrow at this statement. "Fine. For now. "But don't think this will be forgotten, Noah."
"Trust me," Puck replies. "I don't."
…
The stairs being turned into a slide is possibly the most ridiculous thing yet and the whole school is abuzz.
"I still think they could have let me ride down it," Artie says at lunch. "It's basically a ramp. It would have been a hell of a ride."
"Safety issues, I'm sure," Tina replies.
"When did this school become so concerned about safety?"
"You just asked the wrong person," Puck tells him. "I bet the janitors would have let you."
"So it's your fault for going to class," Rachel says. "We should have all done it. Stolen a sled or something."
"That would have made a horrible noise," Tina replies. "Something akin to nails on the chalkboard."
"Do they even have chalkboards anymore?" Artie asks.
"You guys are losing focus," Kurt interrupts.
"How so?" Rachel asks.
"If the prankster is going to start pulling such elaborate pranks, we may be in trouble."
"You don't think turning the school into a castle was elaborate enough?" Puck asks.
"I'm not sure you know the proper definition then, Kurt," Artie adds.
"Elaborate inside the school," Kurt clarifies. "I have concerns."
"Maybe you can write the prankster a letter," Mercedes suggests.
"And how would I deliver it?"
"School paper?" Tina offers.
"We have a school paper?"
"No offense Kurt," Rachel says. "But what could you need to say to the prankster?"
"Why do you care?"
"Can't I be curious?"
"Fine," Kurt says. "One, is he going to start doing things a person could consider dangerous--"
"A person?" Puck questions.
"Two," Kurt continues, ignoring him. "What if someone starts trying to copy him? I'll give the prankster credit, everything he's pulling seems safe and relatively harmless. But considering the cretins that attend this school, I can't see us being lucky enough to not suffer something."
"Are there that many possible candidates?" Rachel asks. "I mean who at this school is both badass and cunning enough to pull that off?"
"I have some thoughts."
Rachel sighs. "It's not Santana."
"She's the answer to the question I asked," Kurt replies.
"Where do you think he found all that plexiglass?" Tina asks.
"Hardware store," Puck suggests.
"And no one noticed?"
"This is Lima."
…
Tuesday morning, Will is determined to not be hit by a slushie. He'll check his chair, his desk and the ceiling. Sue Sylvester isn't going to get the best of him.
However, he didn't anticipate an immediate full frontal assault. The moment he steps into his office, he's hit with a wave of grape slushie. It's the worst yet because it hits almost his entire body, sparing only his ankles and feet.
At least he brought a change of clothing he thinks as he wipes the stinging cold syrup from his face. And even though he's still holding the spare clothes, he feels confident that they're still clean and protected in his gym bag.
He hurries to the bathroom and changes. It's not a good start to the morning.
…
Tuesday after glee, Will asks Rachel to stay.
“What do you need Mr. Schue?” Rachel asks primly after everyone else has left.
“I need some revenge ideas,” Will answers.
“Um, why?”
“It’s for this, uh, screenplay I’m writing,” Will stutters.
“Oh. Couldn’t you just google stuff?” Rachel questions. “I mean, isn’t that what people do? Google stuff?”
Will nods, though internally cursing. Why didn’t that occur to him? “I guess,” he allows. “I just thought I’d ask you because you’re an excellent planner.”
“Right,” Rachel says. “Is Coach Sylvester going after you again, Mr. Schue?”
Will nods, sadly, knowing he can’t tell her what Sue’s doing. He knows he’ll get no sympathy from Rachel.
“I’m not sure I can help then, Mr. Schue,” Rachel tells him. “I don’t want to go up against Coach Sylvester.”
“Rachel,” Will says. “As your teacher, I would take full responsibility for whatever consequences arise.”
Rachel grimaces. “You say that, but I’m not so sure. Besides, even if that was true, you can’t protect me from Coach Sylvester. She’s like a tidal wave. She just takes out everyone and thing in her path.”
“She is, uh, forceful,” Will agrees. “But that’s hardly a reason-“
“I’m sorry, Mr. Schue,” Rachel interrupts. “But I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Will sighs. “It’s fine.”
“Is it all right if I go then?” Rachel asks. “I’m sure Santana is waiting for me.”
“Of course, Rachel,” Will answers. “Thanks for your time.”
“Bye Mr. Schue.”
…
“What’d Schuester want?” Santana asks as they drive to the Berrys’.
“Apparently,” Rachel says. “Someone is harassing Mr. Schue. He wanted some ideas of how to strike back.”
“Oh. Did you give him any?”
“Of course not,” Rachel replies. “He thinks it’s Coach Sylvester. Which is absurd, really. However, with that belief being firmly held by him, I can honestly say, I don’t want to go against Coach Sylvester.”
“Who would?”
“Crazy people and idiots.”
“Exactly.”
“But isn’t it odd?” Rachel muses. “That Mr. Schue is suddenly getting harassed. I wonder how it’s happening. Is it the same thing over and over, which definitely would be annoying. Or is it something different each time so he doesn’t know what to expect.”
“Mystery,” Santana agrees.
“Uh huh.”
They drive in silence for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel notices the grin on Santana's face growing. There are only two reasons for that smile to grow. And Rachel's hands are firmly in her lap. So that leaves only one option.
"What did you do?"
"Whadda mean?"
"You're smirking."
"Maybe I'm just smiling," Santana responds. "Because I'm happy."
"Yes, but why are you so happy?"
"I get the spend the afternoon with my girl," Santana replies. "What other reason do I need?"
"Uh huh," Rachel nods. "Who do you think you're talking to?"
"The most beautiful and talented girlfriend in all of Ohio?"
"Who knows you," Rachel says.
"Yeah. And?"
"Santana."
"Rachel."
It's silent in the car until they reach the Berry residence.
"I suppose this is one of those things I don't want to know and that you'll explain to me later?" Rachel asks as Santana parks in the driveway.
"Yes?"
Rachel doesn't answer, just exits the car.
Santana groans and chases after her.
"Why must you keep things from me?" Rachel asks once Santana catches up to her in her room.
"It's no big deal."
"Noah's doing that too," Rachel says. "And while you both probably have valid reasons, it just makes me feel worse."
"Don't compare me to Puck."
"Why?"
"We just want to protect you," Santana answers.
"Which I appreciate. Really," Rachel says. "But I also resent being treated like a child that can't handle that the world can be cruel. You both know that I am well aware of that fact."
"Rach."
"Unless you're both doing something I'm not comfortable with," Rachel muses. "I suppose then I could interpret your secretiveness as a way to avoid an argument, which I can understand."
"Thank you?"
"Maybe I'm just scared," Rachel continues. "I mean, what if you two are returning to the old ways."
"I would never--"
"It's always been a concern, a fear even, that things will go back to the way they were."
Santana doesn't say anything, just pulls Rachel into her arms.
"I'm being stupid," Rachel mumbles into Santana's shoulder.
"Course not. Sometimes I worry about that too."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Santana answers. "I mean, me and Puckerman are better, but we're still susceptible to peer pressure. We always have been; maybe not as much as some, but more than others."
"You're not reassuring me."
"I'm being honest," Santana tells her. "I figured you'd rather have that."
"Just promise me you're not being too cruel," Rachel says as she falls onto her bed, dragging Santana with her.
"I swear."
…
Wednesday Kurt gives Finn a ride to school.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Kurt says. "How come you're such a target around the halls lately?"
"Um, I'm not sure."
Kurt glances over at Finn out of the corner of his eye. He looks especially sheepish.
"Liar."
"I don't want to talk about it, all right?"
"Finn, I just want to help."
Finn sighs. "I pissed off Puck last week. Maybe this is him getting back at me."
"What'd you do?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Come on, Finn," Kurt says. "I'm sure it's not that big of deal."
"Kurt, just drop it."
"Fine," Kurt huffs. "Forgive me for wanting to help."
…
Will is extremely cautious when he enters his office Wednesday morning. He checks his chair, his desk, the ceiling, the door frame, everywhere he can think of. He finds no evidence and hopes that it's over.
When the bell for first period rings, his confidence grows. Perhaps it was just a few day thing. Well, now he can certainly understand where the kids were coming from. Worrying about being slushied sucks. He's just glad he can return to his normal days.
…
Rachel is pulled into Figgins' office the moment she steps inside McKinley. This time she's anticipating it. She'd been surprised it hadn't happened on Tuesday. He must have been busy dealing with other things.
"I'm sure you know why you're here, Ms. Berry."
"Perhaps you could enlighten me, Principal Figgins."
Figgins sighs. "The prankster has struck again. Perhaps you could provide some insight."
"Sir, I'm not sure why you're continuing this futile exercise," Rachel replies. "You already know what my answer is."
"Why do you keep refusing?"
"I can't tell you things I don't know," Rachel tells him. "Real evidence is one thing, but speculation and rumors have no merit."
"I'm not sure you understand the desperate level I'm at here, Ms. Berry."
"On the contrary," Rachel replies. "The fact that you're constantly harassing me is a very telling sign. However, I can't help you."
"You disappoint me, Ms. Berry."
"Yes, well, I have nothing to say to that." Rachel stands. "If you'll excuse me, I need to visit my locker before first period."
…
It's quiet as Will eats his lunch. Despite the chaos that always seems to be going on in the hall, when the door is closed, he can pretend otherwise. He wonders if that makes him pathetic.
He's just finishing a banana when a rush of cold and ice is dropped on him again. Grape slushie. Again.
Looking up he sees two slushie cups dangling from the ceiling. Several drops fall and one hits him straight in the eye. It stings and he fights back tears.
Standing, he grabs a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom to change.
…
"So I figured out why Finn's getting pushed around," Mercedes tells Kurt as she sits down at the lunch table.
"Yeah?"
"All the jocks think he snitched."
"About what?"
"I'm not sure," Mercedes admits. "But it's about those three guys that got suspended for like two weeks."
"So he broke some sort of jock code?"
Mercedes shrugs. "I guess. Except I can't see him doing that."
"Yeah, me either."
"You think Finn knows?" Mercedes asks.
"Yeah, he does. He thinks Puck's behind it."
"Why?"
"Some lover's spat they're having."
"Maybe if he just apologizes," Mercedes suggests.
"Yeah, maybe," Kurt agrees. "Problem is, doesn't seem like he will."
"Then I guess he's stuck being the school's tackling dummy."
…
"I think it's going pretty good," Santana says as she walks to her car with Quinn and Brittany after Cheerios practice.
"Well Mr. Schue certainly looks miserable this week," Quinn replies. "I guess that's what we're going for."
"I think it's going great," Brittany adds.
"What now, Q?" Santana asks. "Normally you don't worry about the feelings of the little people."
"You make me sound rather cruel," Quinn tells her.
"You can be sometimes, Q," Brittany says. "But San and I don't mind. We are too."
"She's right, Fabray," Santana adds. "Maybe you should stop fighting things so much and just accept them."
Quinn stares at Santana for a moment. "You're one to talk."
"At least I'm trying."
"I am too," Quinn insists. "I'm sorry I'm not doing it on your timeline."
"Guys," Brittany says.
"Sorry, Britt," they chorus.
…
By the time Thursday rolls around, Will can say without a doubt that he understands what his glee kids were insinuating the week before. Having the threat of a slushie hanging over him is horrible. At least they could kind of see it coming. He has been constantly blindsided. He's finding it very disorientating.
…
Finn is miserable. The whole time he'd spent being slushied when he thought he'd gotten Quinn pregnant wasn't as bad as his week has been. Because before he'd been mostly ignored. These past few days he's been pushed, shoved, punched, kicked and had things thrown at him. The jocks have been relentless, doing something to him almost every time they pass him in the hall or while sitting in class. He has to sit in the back corner of the room so he doesn't have anyone behind him. The classes with assigned seating are the worse.
He knows this is all Puck's doing. He just wishes he could figure out a way to stop it. Because if the other guys really think he squealed, this isn't stopping anytime soon and he's not sure how much more he can take.
…
Lunchtime finds Rachel sitting on the edge of the auditorium stage with Marisa Lawson. When the freshman had approached her earlier in the day, Rachel could only hear the echo of Santana's words in her mind. Still, she agreed to meet for lunch.
Rachel is carefully eating her carrots as Marisa eats a sandwich and swings her legs against the side of the stage. They're not really talking and for once, Rachel's okay with that. She doesn't know what to think about Marisa constantly seeking her out lately. She has no problems with it; she simply wonders what started the need.
"How do you know if this is what you're meant to do?" Marisa asks eventually, gesturing to their surroundings.
"How do I specifically?" Rachel asks. "Or people in general?"
"Both, I guess."
"I've just always known," Rachel answers. "There's never been another option. I've never wanted to do anything else. Thankfully, I have the immense talent to pull it off. I'm not sure what I'd do if I couldn't."
"Oh."
"As for other people?" Rachel continues. "I'm not sure. I assume it has to get inside you. You have to want it. Want it more than you want anything because want alone isn't enough to make it happen. That intense want has to drive you to anything and everything it takes to make it happen."
"Yeah, that makes sense."
"Why do you ask?"
"Some days I just wonder if I'm good enough," Marisa explains.
"You can't let this place get you down," Rachel tells her. "I know it's tough. Trust me, I know. But you're better than this place. And you'll get out of here and be something amazing."
"You think so?"
Marisa's voice is so full of hope, it actually gives Rachel pause.
"It's only my opinion, Marisa," she says finally. "But I think good things are in your future."
"Thanks, Rach."
…
Will stops by his office before glee. He's been on edge the entire day, but he hasn't been slushied yet and since the school day is over, he feels confident the threat is over; at least for today.
Digging around on his desk, Will searches for the music he needs for this afternoon. He tries to hurry because he doesn't need to experience another Rachel Berry lecture about promptness.
He then remembers he hastily stuck it in the bottom drawer when a student had come in during lunch to ask for help.
Opening his bottom drawer turns out to be a mistake. Instead of sheet music, he gets a slushie facial. Sputtering through the pain, because he didn't have a chance to close his eyes, Will tries to stay calm. Getting angry at this point is useless; his goal now should be to clean up.
Will stands and grabs his change of clothing from the other bottom drawer before heading to the bathroom. He's definitely going to be late. Hopefully Rachel will be too distracted to notice.
…
Quinn is on her way to the choir room for glee practice when she runs into Rachel.
"Oh, hello Quinn," Rachel says, never breaking her stride. "Are you ready for glee?"
"I suppose so," Quinn replies, falling into step next to Rachel.
"You sound tired. Is Coach Sylvester running you ragged this week?"
"Something like that."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Rachel replies. "But I suppose it's worth it if you win again?"
"It usually is at the time," Quinn tells her. "Some days it's difficult to remember that, though."
"Well, hopefully, glee will be a nice distraction."
"Hopefully."
…
Glee is particularly dreary Thursday afternoon. Mr. Schue's focus seems to be elsewhere and it's affecting how the kids perform. It doesn't help that Finn is avoiding Puck, Mike, Santana and Rachel while looking like a kicked puppy. Kurt and Mercedes are too busy trying to analyze everyone to pay the proper attention. Santana seems to enjoy smirking at Mr. Schue while Quinn is actively avoiding him. For reasons Rachel can't fathom, Brittany can't seem to stop touching her, which is, of course, throwing off the choreography.
Finally Rachel can't take it anymore. "Mr. Schue," she interrupts. "Perhaps we could take a five minute break while everyone tries to regain the focus they never had so we can have a proper practice."
"That sounds like a good idea, Rachel," Will agree. "Five minutes, guys."
Finn immediately skulks into the corner while Puck stands nearby, glaring at him. Brittany pulls Rachel into the nearest chair and plops down next to her. She tugs Quinn down on the other side of her and just grins madly when Santana joins Rachel on her chair, each sitting on half.
The air in the room is anything, but gleeful. Rachel has a feeling this might be another useless practice. She wonders if their drama is going to stop them from winning anything because of their lack of focus. It's difficult to care though when Santana is teasingly running her hands up and down her back, going as far to slip under her shirt.
Distractedly, Rachel watches the seconds tick by. When the break is finished, she jumps up and tries to use her exuberance to compel the others to throw themselves into the song.
…
Rachel is gathering her things together after glee when she notices Mike is still seated in the second row.
"Mike, practice is over," she calls out.
Mike smiles. "I know. Just don’t feel like leaving quite yet."
Rachel smiles back. "You might be the only one. Everyone else is extremely eager to leave this place."
"Yeah, I don't think everyone's having a good week."
"Some better than others I'm sure," Rachel replies. "But isn't that always true?"
Mike nods. "It is." He stands. "Can I walk you out?"
"Sure."
He's next to her, offering his arm with she accepts with a giggle. They stroll out of the room and into the hallway.
"You need a ride home?" he asks.
"No, Santana's coming over," Rachel answers. "She's probably waiting at her car."
When they reach the parking lot, they can see that Santana is indeed waiting for Rachel. The Cheerio is leaning against the hood of her car, arms and legs crossed, a lazy grin on her face. Of course it slowly disappears when she sees Rachel arm in arm with Mike.
Rachel knows Mike sees this and knows what it means, but his steps don't falter as he walks her to the car. They unloop arms and Mike kisses the back of her hand just to tweak Santana a bit.
"M'lady," Mike says as he lets go of Rachel's hand. "Have a nice evening ladies. I'm sure I'll see you both tomorrow." He half bows, not wanting to turn his back on Santana yet, as he walks away. Spinning on his heel, he begins to whistle tunelessly as he walks to his car, a few spots over.
Getting into his car, he knows he should feel bad about baiting Santana, but his intentions were innocent. Besides, he'd have to be suicidal to go after Rachel. Hopefully she knows that. Well, if she doesn't, Mike is sure Rachel will mention it.
…
Will is glad it's Friday for more than one reason. The biggest being after today he won't have to worry about being slushied for two whole days.
He'd feel better if he knew when or how it was going to happen. The sneak attacks are the worst of it in his mind.
Nor can he figure out how Sue is pulling it off. Not only setting things up, but the timing. How does she know where he's going to be at a certain time. Is he that predictable?
Maybe he should shake up his routine a bit. Take a different hallway when given the chance and that sort of thing. Maybe that will help cut down on the attacks.
…
"So you're really not going to tell me?" Rachel asks Santana as they readjust their clothing.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Santana replies.
"Santana."
Seeing they're as put back together as they're going to get, Santana slowly opens the door of the second floor janitor's closet and sticks her head out. Because it's lunch, the hallway is empty and so she slips out, followed by Rachel.
"Why can't I just have a thing?" Santana asks, entwining their fingers as they walk towards the stairs. "I mean, you don't tell me everything you're doing."
Rachel sighs. "You're right. Of course. I am being rather intrusive. I apologize. I'm just worried. However, try to see from my point of view. You've got some big badass project you're working on that you won't tell me about. Normally you can't wait to brag about it. How am I supposed to interpret this?"
"You just assume it's some big badass project," Santana points out. "Maybe I've taken up knitting and I'm embarrassed."
"I'm not sure you have the patience for knitting, tiger."
"Well, no, I don't. But you get my point."
"I suppose I do."
"Okay then?"
"Just promise me you're being careful," Rachel says. "I worry."
"I won't get caught, babe. I promise."
…
Just as she leaves Rachel at her locker, Santana turns to find Becky standing in front of her.
"Coach Sylvester would like to see you," she says.
Santana nods and follow Becky down the hall to Coach's office. She sits and waits for Coach to speak.
"I'm thinking of making you Cheerios captain," Coach says finally.
Santana's jaw drops. "Say what?"
"You're torturing my nemesis," Coach answers. "In a way that hadn't even occurred to me. It's outstanding."
"Q and Britt are helping to," Santana mentions.
"Still, I have no doubt that it was your idea."
"Of course it was my idea," Santana replies. "He doesn't get to be so fucking nonchalant about Rachel getting slushied. Not after all I did to make sure it stopped."
Coach Sylvester grins. "Because unlike William, you protect your people."
"Damn straight. You're really not going to make me captain, are you?"
"You don't want it?"
"Not anymore," Santana says. "I've got what I need."
"Jesus, I'd worry that Berry has ruined you if I didn't know she wasn't setting you up for larger things."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll figure it out," Coach Sylvester smirks. "Dismissed."
…
Lunch is nearly over and Will hasn't been slushied. He knows there's still plenty of time in the day, but the longer he goes without being hit, the better he feels. The end of the week and a small break from it all is getting closer and closer.
He finishes up his food and corrects the last of the quizzes he needed to get through. As he's cleaning up his desk, the bell rings and he stands. He grabs his things and exits his office.
Except the minute he steps through the door, a slushie falls onto him. Grape. Again.
He wipes his eyes clear and spins on his heel. He digs out his spare set of clothes and still holding his teaching materials, heads for the bathroom. If he's lucky, he can clean up quickly and only be a minute or two late for class.
…
"Mr. Schue, you got a minute?"
The final bell rang about ten minutes ago, so Will is surprised to look up and find Finn standing awkwardly in his office doorway.
"Of course, Finn, come on in. Have a seat."
Finn sits and just looks at Will.
"What can I help you with, Finn?" Will asks finally.
"Um, well, the thing is, I need some advice, I guess."
"Okay."
"Let's say I'm getting, uh, bugged about something that I didn't do. And I don't know how to stop it."
"What do you mean, bugged?"
"You know, people messing with me or whatever."
"Have you tried talking to them?"
"Talking wouldn't work," Finn answers. "Trust me, Mr. Schue, talking definitely wouldn't help."
"Have you tried standing up to them?"
"That wouldn’t work either, Mr. Schue."
"Why not?" Will asks.
"It just wouldn't."
"Well, then, besides someone stepping in on your behalf, I'm not sure what else to say."
"Yeah, I kinda figured."
"Finn," Will says. "I want to help. Maybe if you just tried standing up to them. I know you'll be out numbered, but it might make them reconsider if they know you're going to fight back. Or maybe you could ask one of the guys, like Puck to help you out."
"Puck?" Finn almost chokes on the name. "I don't think Puck would help me out right now."
"Why not?"
"He's kinda pissed at me right now."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Well, if you want me to talk to Figgins, I can," Will offers. "Maybe he ca--"
"No way, Mr. Schue. Thanks but no thanks. That'll just get me tossed in a dumpster."
"Seriously?" Will asks. "That's not right."
"Course not, Mr. Schue," Finn replies. "Maybe I just need to wait it out a bit. Hopefully they'll find a new target soon."
"If you're sure," Will tells him.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Finn stands. "Thanks for listening, Mr. Schue."
"Course Finn. Anytime."
…
"Why do you think Rachel isn't coming to dinner Sunday night?" Santana asks.
She's lounging on her bed, beer in hand. Quinn is stretched out next to her holding a bottle of water while Brittany's on the floor because she feels the need to shift every few seconds and kept causing beer and water to be spilled on the bed.
"I still can't believe how cool your parents are with everything," Quinn comments.
"After Puck, Rachel is like a dream come true," Brittany pipes up.
"Well, that's certainly true," Quinn says.
"Well?" Santana says. "I asked a question."
"She's your girlfriend, Lopez."
"Maybe she actually has something else going on," Brittany replies. "Maybe her lesson really did get rescheduled. You know how busy Rach is. Sunday would be one of the few days she could do a make up."
"True," Santana allows.
"Why so paranoid, Lopez?"
"I'm not paranoid, Fabray," Santana snaps. "I'm curious."
"Uh huh, whatever you say."
…
Rachel's glad she was able to turn down Sunday dinner with the Lopez's this week. It's not that she doesn't enjoy it, because she does. It's been a while since she's sat down to a family dinner. Her fathers aren't around enough for it.
She just wants to give Santana a little space. She knows she pushes Santana a lot. Though this family dinner thing was more Mrs. Lopez, Rachel would rather not tempt fate. She doesn't want to crowd Santana. She tries not to, but every once in while, she forgets.
Staring at her phone, Rachel has an urge to call Santana. For some reason, she wonders if her girlfriend is thinking about her. Sometimes if she is, she'll send a text.
However, tonight Rachel has no idea. Because she's supposed to be at her lesson, she turned off her phone like she would if she really was at a lesson.
She knows she's playing a bit of a dangerous game. If Santana finds out she lied, she might not believe that Rachel just wanted to give her space. Hopefully she won't assume infidelity. Rachel really believes they're past believing that.
Well, she hopes anyway.
…
Monday morning, Will strolls cautiously into his office. He doesn't bother doing his usual checks. They don't seem to do any good. Whoever is doing this, seems to be at least three steps ahead of him.
It has to be Sue. Who else could it be? The dedication alone reminds him of no one else. Well, except Rachel, but he knows she would never--would she?
Will shakes his head to himself. He feels fairly confident that it isn't Rachel. She isn't the type. Santana, maybe, but he's not sure she has that kind of focus if it doesn't involve defiling her sexual partner.
When the warning bell for first period rings, Will lets out a sigh of relief. At least for now, it seems he's slushie free.
…
Rachel is leaving second period when she sees Finn in the halls. She's about to wave at him when he notices her. His eyes go comically wide and he abruptly changes direction. He almost takes out a couple of Cheerios as he does so.
Rachel doesn't know what to think about his reaction. She stands in the hallway for a moment watching Finn scurry away. She'll have to ask Noah later what that was all about.
…
Gathering his things at the end of the day, Will is apprehensive. The fact that he's made it this far into the day without being hit doesn't bode well in his mind. He wonders if he's going to be exiting the school. If so, maybe he'll be able to figure out who's behind these attacks.
He walks slowly through the deserted halls, listening. Nothing sounds out of the ordinary. However he's been deceived before.
When he reaches the main door, he pauses trying to see any evidence of an attack. He can't see anything, but he's learned that doesn't seem to matter.
Only when he's pulling out of the parking lot, does Will let out a sigh of relief. Maybe whomever it is got bored and gave up. He smiles. Maybe tomorrow will be an all right day.
…
Puck has barely seen Finn this week. Too bad; he's curious how Hudson's handling being a punching bag this week. Maybe now he'll understand why what he did to Rachel is so horrible.
Though knowing Finn, probably not.
He knows he should feel guilty, but he just can't. He's sick of his attitude. He understands the guy was hurt when Rachel broke up with him, but it was all his doing. Puck wonders if he's realized that yet.
Puck wonders when Rachel became his best friend and Finn became just a douchebag he has to occasionally deal with.
…
Tuesday morning, Will drives to McKinley believing that his days of being slushied are over. It was most likely just a week thing to teach him a lesson, he muses. It makes sense. Or if it was Sue, it was just a distraction. It's not the first time she's messed with him for a week and then moved on. It probably won't be the last either.
Still, Will can't help but feel a little jubilant about his day. He walks across the parking lot humming under his breath.
Just as he's reaching for the door handle, a waterfall of grape slushie falls on him. He quickly wipes his eyes and looks around. Except for the icy cold drink covering him and the concrete, there's no proof anything happened.
Cursing to himself, he heads inside, going immediately to the bathroom to change.
…
"You ever feel like we're missing something?" Mercedes asks Kurt as he digs through his locker.
"Such as?"
"I don't know," she replies. "It just feels like there's something big going on and we're missing some details."
"We could investigate."
"I wouldn't even know where to start," Mercedes replies.
"Well your feeling must be coming from somewhere," Kurt points out.
"Yeah, maybe."
"We'll just keep our eyes and ears even more open. We just need to finely tune our senses."
…
Wanting to work on a song over lunch, Rachel heads to the choir room. However once she arrives, she finds that it isn't empty.
"Oh, hi, Mike."
"Hey Rachel."
"Sorry, I didn't think anyone else would be here," Rachel says.
"It's fine," Mike replies. "Just didn't feel like eating in the lunch room."
"I can leave if you want to be alone."
"Why are you here?" Mike asks.
"I wanted to practice a song," Rachel answers.
"Oh. Okay. Go ahead."
"Are you sure? I mean, if you didn't want company…"
"It's fine. You practice. I'll eat. And I'll get some nice lunch music. Right?"
"If you're sure," Rachel says.
Mike nods.
Rachel smiles and sits at the piano.
…
Tired of the treatment he gets during lunch, Finn hides in the bathroom. The second floor boys bathroom has very light traffic during lunch, she he hides in one of the two stalls and eats his lunch.
The smell is kinda hard to take. It's slowly killing his appetite. Still, he keeps eating because he doesn't know what else to do.
Some days he wishes he was smarter. He really wishes he could come up with a way to end all the harassment. But every idea he comes up with does no good. And now he's given them more ammo to laugh at.
Finishing his sandwich, he's no longer hungry. He looks at the rest of his lunch, but just drops them on the floor. Feeling pitiful, he leans his head against the stall wall and waits for lunch to end.
…
After glee, Tuesday, Rachel literally grabs Will before he exits the choir room.
"I don't think it's Coach Sylvester, Mr. Schue," Rachel tells him
"Why is that, Rachel?"
"Because she said it wasn't her."
"That's hardly a compelling reason," Will says.
"Mr. Schue," Rachel begins. "It's no secret that Coach Sylvester hates me less than she used to."
"True."
"I feel confident that it's not her. Because if it was, she would most likely relish in telling me about it," Rachel explains. "She knows there's nothing I can do if she is."
"That's an interesting theory--"
"I think it's the prankster."
"What? How would--Why?"
Rachel half shrugs wishing she would think before she speaks. "I just do. It's the only thing that makes sense besides Coach Sylvester."
"I suppose that's true," Will mulls. "If it's not Sue, then he's the only other person who could pull it off."
Rachel fights back a bristle at the word, 'he'. She knows very few people think the prankster is female. She also wonders why she's blaming the prankster when she know full well it isn't her.
"Though I'm not sure if that's comforting or not," Will continues. "I mean, he's gone on for so long without being caught. What are the odds he'll stop with me anytime soon?"
"I guess it depends on the reason why he started."
"Yeah." Will sighs. "Well, thanks for the insight, Rachel."
"You're welcome, Mr. Schue. Break a leg."
…
"What's up with you?" Santana asks Rachel.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel counters.
"You're been weirdly quiet for far too long."
Rachel supposes that's true. They've been studying for almost an hour and she's barely said a word. It probably didn't help that she was so quiet on the drive over.
"I just don't feel like talking," Rachel replies.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Why?"
"It's just you haven't been around too much lately," Santana pouts.
"Awww, I'm sorry, San," Rachel replies. "You've been busy too, you know."
"Yeah, well how come every time I see you lately, you're with Chang?"
"You mean that one time last week when we walked out of glee together?"
"What about today during lunch?" Santana asks. "You were both in the choir room."
"So?"
"What am I supposed to think?"
"Nothing," Rachel replies. "I was practicing a song and he just wanted to be alone. So we were both in the room being alone together."
"That makes no sense."
"It's Mike," Rachel says. "He and I are friends. And we really only see each other at school."
"Yeah, okay," Santana says. "Just seems like the guy's around lately."
"Perhaps it's the slushie thing," Rachel replies. "People have been acting weird since I was slushied."
"Maybe."
…
Wednesday, Will doesn't know what to think anymore. He enters the school cautiously. Nothing happens. He enters his office warily. Still nothing happens. He checks his surrounds as best as he can before sitting at his desk. He begins planning his day, absently drinking his coffee.
About fifteen minutes later he hears a small twang like a spring has been released before the sound can completely register, he's covered in grape slushie.
Looking around he sees a small catapult. It has an enormous bucket attached to it that is still dripping grape flavor.
Growling to himself, Will finds his extra clothing and goes to the bathroom to change.
When he enters he's hit in the face with another slushie. Thankfully, it doesn't hit his spare set of clothes. Still, it's shocking. The double dose of cold stickiness is extremely unpleasant and he fights the urge to scream.
Instead, he wipes his face clean as best he can and goes into a stall to change.
…
Watching a irritated, ice covered Schuester stalk to the bathroom, Sue can only smile. If she gets to start out a majority of her days watching William Schuester be humiliated and annoyed, it's a good day.
She has to hand it to Lopez. Sue can't believe it never occurred to her to Sluhie William. Watching his apprehensive anticipation is delicious.
While she understand why Lopez turned down her offer of captain, Sue almost wishes she had accepted. She didn't expect her to, so at least she's not disappointed.
And really, to take it from Fabray might be considered harsh. After all the girl did work her way back up to the top. She earned her captaincy back so easily because her transformation was so quick. It seemed to Sue that one minute the blonde was onstage at Regionals, big as a house and then it was a new year and standing in front of her was pre baby Fabray, in shape and ready to be on top again.
Sue can admire that kind of dedication, especially when it benefits her. So she's glad to let Q keep her spot. But S needed to have her approval of her extracurricular activities. Perhaps with that encouragement, she'll keep it up.
…
Santana is having too much fun slushing Mr. Schue. She can see how frustrated he is by it. The variations in time and location are driving him crazy. Which, of course was her goal. She figures the long she does this, the less he'll be able to write off being slushied. Maybe he'll even eventually feel bad for not protecting people better.
But she doubts it.
She's going to keep it up. She probably won't continue doing it daily, but at least once or twice a week to keep him on his toes. The waiting and the not knowing is probably the worse part.
Santana's going to enjoy every moment of it.