fic: Green is Not Your Color - Part Four
Title: Green is Not Your Color - Part Four
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Puck, Marisa, Mike, Quinn, Will, Sue
Rating: R
Summary: Santana gets jealous. Rachel does not approve of her coping methods.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~6,000 (this part) / ~27,600 (total)
Spoilers: Just the previous stories in this series
A/N: Follows Everything's Different, but Nothing's Changed. Apologies. I know it's been over a month. But at least it's the longest thing I've written yet. I'd promise next time it'll be better, but that might be a lie. However, I do have several stories still floating around, so I'm not giving up on this series. I'd actually planned on the next part being part 2 of the Ambitions trilogy to be next, but then a comment from darcelynn was the missing piece I needed for the next fic, so here we are. So yeah, hopefully this was worth the wait.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
series masterlist
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Michelle Jamison is waiting for Rachel Monday morning.
"Morning," Rachel greets.
"Berry," Michelle replies. "It's the beginning of another week of you being unattached."
"Thank you for the update."
"So you're still not gonna give me a chance?"
"Michelle," Rachel says. "You and I both know you don't really mean that. You just like tweaking Santana."
"Perhaps," Michelle admits. "However, what's up with you and the little blonde freshman? Tell me you didn't turn me down for her."
"Okay. Then I won't."
"Berry, seriously? A freshman?"
"Marisa and I are just friends," Rachel informs Michelle.
"Uh huh, whatever you say, Berry," Michelle replies.
…
Santana's ire rises Monday morning when she sees Michelle Jamieson leaning into Rachel at her locker. Only this time there's nothing she can do about it. This time she has no claim over Rachel. Watching the interaction, Santana can almost see the smirk of arrogance on Jamieson's face.
Brittany actually wraps their finger together, not just their pinkys and leads Santana away.
"We'll think of something, San," she whispers.
Santana just nods.
…
When Will is gathering his things at the end of the day, he's still wary of being slushied. He wish he knew what set off the slushier, because the randomness is quite disconcerting.
He opens his desk drawer for papers he needs to grade and is treated to a squirt gun slushie facial.
Blue raspberry. He sighs and wipes his face clean with his hand. It's late enough that he simply dries off with the towel in his desk before heading out.
…
"You know, if you ever decide you don't want to be a star, you'd be a good teacher," Mike tells Rachel Monday afternoon.
They're hanging out at Rachel's. Mike was curious about her knife throwing.
"Wednesday did go rather well, didn't it?" Rachel replies.
"I just never pictured Rachel Berry good with kids," Mike says.
"Well, I was just like them when I was younger," Rachel explains. "Well, I was a bit more advanced talent wise, but that same sort of attitude and hunger, that I understand. I'm fairly certain it'd be different if I was a school teacher." Rachel throws three knives in quick succession. They form a triangle. "And if I gave up my dream, I'm not sure I wouldn't resent them for still having only possibilities in front of them. Does that make me a horrible person?"
"No. It's incredibly self aware and very honest."
"Yes, well, it still makes me sound rather selfish," Rachel replies.
"I'd call you frank," Mike says.
"I'd rather be called Rachel," she replies.
Mike smirks. "Can I try?"
"Sure, but don't tell Noah."
Mike's smirk grows.
…
Tuesday morning, Will walks into his office, whistling Journey and hopeful about the day. This ends quickly as a slushie drops on him from the ceiling. And when he looks up to find the source, a second one barrels down on him. He just has time to close his eyes before it hits.
He's a bit numb to it after getting hit with the first, but it fully covers his face, hair and neck which is very sticky. He grimaces and tastes blue raspberry. He almost misses the grape since it's slightly easier to get out of clothes and for some reason feels slightly less sticky.
He gets up with a resigned sigh, grabs his spare clothes and heads for the bathroom.
…
After hanging out all day Saturday, Marisa feels she's making progress with Rachel.
"We're friends, right Rach?" Marisa asks.
"Of course," Rachel replies. "I don't spend all day watching musicals with just anyone."
"Oh. I suppose not."
"Besides, now that you've experienced a slushie, we have a common bond."
"I guess that's one thing to come out of it," Marisa says.
"I realize it's not a club a person wants to belong to, but that's McKinley," Rachel tells her.
…
Tuesday glee is more productive. Rachel is feeling more positive about her week, though she blames that entirely on looking forward to pranking than anything else. She's decided to keep her moving on philosophy and avoid looking Santana's way at all costs; because when she does her heart pounds wildly before clenching tightly in her chest.
She knows she needs to deal with the break up, but there always seems to be something else to do. At least that's what she tells herself.
…
Wednesday at lunch Brittany receives a text.
B, you, Santana and Becky shouldn't bother going into the locker room before Cheerios' practice. The Prankster
Brittany sighs. She's glad for the heads up, but she wishes Santana and Rachel had made up by now. Then the three of them plus Puck could sit around later and chat about Rachel's pranks and maybe Santana's slushing of Mr. Schue.
Maybe tomorrow she and Puck can try getting them back together again, she thinks as she stands, looking for Santana.
Spotting her across the lunch room, she quickly makes her way over and explains the text she just got. Santana gets a sad look in her eyes before nodding her head.
Wanting to say more, but not knowing what to say and knowing Santana wouldn't up at school anyway, Brittany just nods back and goes to find Becky.
…
Wednesday afternoon after school, Will steps into his office and slumps into his desk. Today was a particularly long day and all he wants to do is go home. Unfortunately, he has a few things to take care of before he can leave.
Thinking only of getting out of there as soon as possible, the slushie squirt gun that hits him directly in the face takes him completely by surprise.
He actually sputters as the icy, sweet liquid drips off his face onto his desk. It's blue raspberry again, so he reluctantly doesn't wipe it on his shirt sleeve. Instead, he reaches into his right bottom drawer and pulls out a towel, which he uses to wipe his face clean. He then runs it through his hair before tossing it on the floor. He'll take it home and wash it so he can be prepared for the next attack.
…
Santana, Brittany and Becky are the first ones on the field, having stuffed their things in a locker and scurrying out. Coach Sylvester starts to look annoyed when people aren't on the field five minutes early per usual. When they're officially one minute late, Coach Sylvester begins bellowing through her bullhorn at them.
All three girls know the bullhorn can be heard in the locker room, but not very well. So none of them expect the Coach's orders to be heard. It would probably also help if they knew what exactly was going on.
When the others are a full five minutes late, Coach turns to the three standing on the field.
"What makes you three so special?!"
"You already know the answer to that Coach!" Brittany yells back.
The bullhorn is dropped a moment. Santana counts to sixty-seven before it's brought back up.
"All right then, blondie, go investigate what's keeping those failures!"
"Right Coach," Brittany salutes.
Becky looks around as Brittany runs off to investigate.
"Where's Quinn?" she whispers.
"Not here today," Santana whispers back.
"Oh."
"What?"
"At first I thought you just didn't warn her," Becky explains. "And I couldn't figure out why."
"Oh. Okay."
Brittany runs up a moment later.
"Well?!" Sue yells.
"They're cleaning up, Coach," Brittany says. "I guess like twenty flour bombs went off. Everyone's covered in flour and hair gel, except I guess there was red dye inside, cause everyone's kinda pinkish."
"This I have to see," Santana mutters. She steps next to Brittany. "Permission to go look and laugh Coach."
Coach Sylvester comes down and joins them on the field.
"It sounds like an excellent field trip," she says. "Let's all go."
The three girls fall in step behind Coach Sylvester as they march towards the locker room.
When they arrive, it's chaos. Girls are running around, crying, cursing and all desperately trying to clean up. The room itself looks like it's been doused in red Kool-Aid.
Surprisingly, Coach doesn't say anything, but simply watches. The three girls watch as a small grin appears. However, it's gone very quickly and Santana is beckoned over.
"Yeah Coach?"
"Your girlfriend may be a genius, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says quietly. "Look at this pandemonium."
"Ex," Santana mutters.
"Yes, I'd heard rumors," Coach Sylvester confirms. "I was hoping it was just talk. Well, whatever you did, apologize for it and give the girl flowers or whatever Berry thinks is romantic. And do it quick before that freshman steals her right from under your nose."
Santana can only stare.
"Shut your mouth, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "You're letting flys in."
"Course Coach. Right."
…
"What if we got a string quartet to back you up?" Brittany asks. "Or a jazz band?"
"Too similar."
"Sky writing?"
"That's a little too personal to put up in the sky for all Lima to see," Santana replies.
"You could write her a song," Brittany suggests.
"Maybe, but I don't think I'd be too good at it."
"Poetry?"
"Same thing."
"Shakespeare?"
"Hmmm," Santana replies. "Maybe. Let's see if I still have a copy of Romeo and Juliet laying around.
…
Will has been sitting at his desk for nearly fifteen minutes when he's hit with a slushie Thursday morning. He's so resigned to it, that he simply closes his eyes and mouth before reaching for his freshly laundered towel. Once most of the blue raspberry is out of his eyes and hair, he grabs his spare clothes and heads to the bathroom.
Maybe he should invest in one of those quarantine suits they have in movies. Maybe it'd insulate him from other annoying aspects of McKinley as well. Somehow he doubts it.
…
Thursday Mike Chang joins them for lunch and Marisa wants to resent him for invading her one on one with Rachel. However, it's difficult when he's so sweet and funny. Plus, he gets this amazing smile out of Rachel when he talks about them dancing together. Marisa fights her jealousy. As far as Marisa knows, Rachel has no interest in Mike Chang romantically, but watching them spin around the room together, it's hard not to be jealous.
…
Meanwhile, Kurt and Mercedes are desperately analyzing the flour bombs hitting all the Cheerios the day before. While the girls suffered most of it, the guys received similar treatment with a dozen or so flour bombs filled with red food coloring dropping on their heads.
However, Kurt once again escaped it; as did Brittany, Santana and Becky. Quinn was gone Wednesday, but both Mercedes and Kurt assume she would have been spared as well.
"It has to be Santana," Kurt says. "She's protecting her own."
"And you?" Mercedes asks.
"She knows Rachel would be upset if I was hit too," Kurt explains.
"Even though they're broken up?" Mercedes questions.
"Santana's trying to win her back," Kurt replies.
"How?"
"Why do you think there's an increase of pranks?" Kurt asks. "She's trying to impress her."
"Pranks? Really?"
"It's Santana," Kurt shrugs.
…
Quinn didn't think it was possible, but she really wish Rachel would just forgive Santana already, so they could get back together. She supposes that means she's really truly over Rachel.
"Or you've realized the inevitable," Brittany says joining Quinn on the bleachers for lunch.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That Santana and Rachel belong together," Brittany explains. "Being who they are, there's probably more drama in their future, but they'll still end up together."
"It's been two weeks," Quinn points out. "I thought for sure, Berry would have caved this past week."
"Two weeks isn't that long, Quinn."
"It is in high school time," Quinn replies.
Brittany smiles. "I suppose that's true. But give 'em a bit more time. You'll see."
"Goody," Quinn mutters.
"It'll be okay, Quinn," Brittany says. "We'll figure you out next."
"That'll definitely take longer than two weeks."
…
It's lunchtime and Will's made it this far in the day without being slushied. He knows it's coming, but he hopes it's more towards the end of the day, so he can just go home and clean up. A shower is really the only satisfying way to remove all the dried, sticky sweetness.
Unfortunately, luck is not on his side today. He is hit just as he sits in his chair to eat. With a sigh, he stands. It seems half of his lunch is going to be spent cleaning up. Again.
…
"Please tell me you've got something planned for tonight, bro," Puck says in lieu of a greeting Friday night.
"I want to do a lot more pranking this week."
"Seriously?" Puck asks. "Cause you got the Cheerios pretty good Wednesday."
"I know," Rachel smirks. "It's not enough though. I need more."
"Uh, okay."
"What?"
"You sound a little like an insane cartoon villain is all," Puck explains.
"Oh. Is that good or bad?"
"Just an observation, bro."
"So you'll help me?" Rachel asks.
"Course," Puck replies. "What else am I going to do?"
…
Santana isn't up for hanging out Friday night. She tells B to go out and have fun.
"Are you sure, San?" Brittany asks. "I mean, I don't mind. I like hanging with you."
"Even when I'm being all pathetic and emo?"
"Quinn said that, not me," Brittany answers.
"I notice you didn't deny it, though."
Brittany sighs. "If you're sure…"
"I am."
"All right," Brittany replies. "I'll see if Quinn's up for doing anything."
"Have fun, Britt."
…
It's a little early; only early evening, but Santana can't wait anymore. She drives to Rachel's arms with flowers and a pocket full of pebbles.
When she arrives she walks around to the back of the house and can see that Rachel's in her room. She begins to throw the pebbles at the window. One. Hit. Two. Miss. Three. Miss. Four. Hit.
And then Rachel's window opens. She looks down and sees Santana. She shakes her head and begins to close her window.
Santana knows she doesn't have much time, so she just jumps in.
"But, soft! What light through yonder window break? It is the east, and Rachel is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief. That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing; what of this? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven--"
"That was lovely," Rachel interrupts.
"I have a bit more actually," Santana says. “I’m surprised you let me get this far.”
“I was curious how much you’d memorized,” Rachel answers.
“A lot,” Santana tells her.
"I appreciate the sentiment," Rachel replies. "However, I will be closing my window now." Rachel's head disappears and the window is closed.
Santana sighs and walks around front to her car, before driving home.
…
Rachel spends the rest of the evening staring out the window at the spot Santana had stood. She had been completely floored that Santana would recite Shakespeare to her. It was not the expected next step of the wooing process. But Santana does manage to surprise her plenty, which she loves.
Rachel sighs. She really misses her girlfriend.
…
Santana lays at her bed, staring at the ceiling. It took a while to come up with that idea. It's probably going to take a whole week to come up with something else. Part of her wonders if it's even worth the effort. Rachel's so stubborn; if she's going to forgive Santana, it'll be done when Rachel's ready and not a moment sooner.
She hopes it's sooner rather than later. She really misses her girlfriend.
…
“Judging by the expression you’re wearing, I’m guess Rachel won’t be joining us this evening,” Mr. Lopez says as Santana sits down the dinner Sunday night.
Santana shakes her head.
"Are you ever going to tells what occurred?" Mrs. Lopez asks.
Santana shakes her head again.
"I see," he says. "Are you doing anything to get her back?"
"Of course, papa," Santana replies.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Lopez wait for their daughter to explain.
Finally after a minute, Mrs. Lopez asks, "Well?"
Santana sighs. "It's not going as well as I'd hope."
"Perhaps you should watch more romantic comedies," Mrs. Lopez suggests.
"No way," Santana says. "Too cliché."
"So?" Mrs. Lopez asks. "Rachel did it. Why can't you?"
"You saw that?"
Mrs. Lopez nods. "Believe it or not, San, we do pay attention."
"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of."
"Maybe we should just let the girl eat in peace," Mr. Lopez says.
"She needs to take action," Mrs. Lopez replies.
"I am, mom," Santana tells her.
"Good. That girl better be back here for dinner soon, then."
"Yes mom."
…
Rachel is stretched out on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her clock reads 6:45 p.m. She knows the Lopez family is sitting down to dinner and eating. She wishes she was there. It feels like it's been forever since she's been over there for Sunday dinner.
The whole incident with her fathers has reminded her how alone she used to be. Rachel presumed that was all behind her, but apparently not. Though, she supposes, she did it to herself.
Before Santana, Rachel used to console herself with thoughts of her future; being on Broadway, being famous, knowing most of her peers will still be in Ohio. However, lately, Santana has found her way into Rachel’s future daydreams. Removing her from the equation leaves Rachel feeling even more isolated.
The weight of everything unexpectedly comes crashing down on her. The emotions she’s been holding back: sadness, loneliness, self-doubt, and even a little self pity are suddenly too overwhelming for her and she begins to cry.
Clutching her pillow, the tears turn into sobs, which quickly becomes weeping and gasping for breath. She just can’t seem to stop. She really wishes Santana was here to hold her through all this; Rachel realizes how crazy that thought is since Santana’s absence is the catalyst.
However, as the tears continue to flow, Rachel knows she’s also crying because of her fathers. She’s never really let herself properly react to her fathers’ dismissal of her presence at such a young age. At first, she was so caught up in training to become a star. And then it seemed silly to dwell in the past; so much of her life is prepping for the future. But now, laying on her bed, crying to herself, Rachel can acknowledge how hurt and alone she really feels.
…
Another week has begun and Santana’s beginning to wonder if she and Rachel are truly over.
“Don’t think like that,” Brittany tells her. “You’re Santana fucking Lopez. If you want your girl back, you’ll get her back.”
“I’m starting to doubt it,” Santana replies.
“We’ve barely begun,” Brittany says. “Your wooing back attempts have been mild at best. Once you really step up the efforts, she’ll be putty in your hands. Or whatever.”
“Yeah?”
“Course,” Brittany replies. “Just because you were relationship impaired before doesn’t mean you are now.”
“Thanks Britt.”
“You’re just going to have to try harder.”
“Easier said than done,” Santana mutters.
…
Kurt and Mercedes are on their way to lunch when they hear it: a mini explosion, yelling and then chaos.
A moment later, several teachers exit the teacher lounge, cursing covered in flour.
"Prankster," Mercedes whispers as they watch.
"Good," Kurt replies. "Let them have to deal with cleaning up at school."
"Harsh," Mercedes says.
"Well, we had to do it for years and they never did anything."
"I'll give Santana credit," Kurt continues. "When she wants to, she can be quite thorough."
"I still don't understand why you think it's Santana," Mercedes says.
"I don't understand how you can't," Kurt counters.
"Just because I don't know who it is means it's Santana."
"Course not," Kurt agrees. "That's not why I think it."
They try to stay out of the way and watch the bedlam that the prankster has caused. Most of the faculty are running around, seemingly lost and confused.
Finally when the janitors show up, the pandemonium seems to lessen. Having a great deal of experience with the prankster's antics, they begin cleaning up the mess.
Both Kurt and Mercedes are thrown by how calm things become once the janitors appear and begin cleaning up.
"So apparently cleanliness is the solution to chaos?" Mercedes suggests.
Kurt just shrugs.
…
Marisa isn't sure what it is, but something is different. She's having lunch with Rachel, which has become a daily occurrence, but something's changed. She hopes it's how Rachel views her because she's slowly working up her courage to ask Rachel out.
Then again, she doesn't know exactly how Rachel sees her. She knows they're friends, but Marisa acknowledges it may be too soon for Rachel to think about going out with someone else. However, Marisa knows she'll regret it if she doesn't try.
She's actually surprised she hasn’t seen Santana. Marisa fully expected the Cheerio to be in her face about hanging out with Rachel. Marisa's not complaining. She's not sure she could survive another encounter with Santana; who knows what else she would do to Marisa.
…
Will enters his office at the end of the day only to be hit with another slushie. He sighs as he wipes his face clean and sets his things on his desk. Checking the time, he debates cleaning up or if it'd just be easier to head home a bit early.
Because it's only Monday, Will decides to head home. He grabs the quizzes he needs to grade and heads out, still dripping blue raspberry slushie.
…
Tuesday Santana still hasn't thought of her next move with Rachel. She knows she needs something impressive to get Rachel's attention, but subtle enough it still screams Santana to Rachel. That perfect balance is the key factor.
"A love poem."
"Hardly."
Brittany, bless her heart, is still suggesting things.
"A love letter then?"
"Not enough."
"What about a big song and dance number in her driveway?" Brittany asks.
"That might actually work," Santana admits. "But I'm not sure I could pull it off."
"What about an iconic song from an iconic musical?" Brittany tries. "Like that one from West Side Story? I just met a girl named Maria or whatever. What if you changed that to Rachel?"
"Maybe," Santana says. "Though I'm not sure how well it would work. Different amount of syllables and all that."
"True," Brittany agrees. "What if you just kiss her senseless?"
"Um…"
"You just kiss her until she takes you back. You're a great kisser, S."
"Thanks Britt."
…
Marisa is once again leaning against Rachel's car waiting for her to be done with glee. Several times it's been suggested that Marisa join glee as well, but she just can't. There are the reasons she gives Rachel: she's not a strong singer or dancer, she doesn't have time between school and theater and she still has time to join later. However, the real reason is that seeing Rachel perform is an amazing experience and every time it reminds Marisa how much in love she is. Knowing Rachel doesn't feel the same way makes watching a bit painful.
Though if Rachel is into her a bit, like Marisa's starting to think she might be, maybe it'll be okay. She'll have to worry about the daggers shooting out of Santana's eyes, but with Rachel by her side anything is possible.
So maybe glee is in her future. Who knows. All Marisa knows is Rachel is skipping towards her with a grin on her face and Marisa fights the urge to run towards Rachel and kiss her senseless right in the middle of the parking lot.
Instead she smiles back and climbs into Rachel's car.
…
Wednesday morning it’s quiet in the teacher’s lounge. With the prankster escalating his antics, everyone’s feeling a bit on edge. What will he have in store next? Everyone speculates what could have changed to make the prankster up his game.
“Do you still think it’s Noah Puckerman?” Emma asks Will over coffee.
Will shakes his head. “I don’t know anymore. These flour bombs are rather severe in comparison to the previous pranks.”
“Yes, but there are plenty of previous pranks that were complex and complicated. Perhaps whoever it is wrongly trying to explore other avenues.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Will replies. “That means we’re in for it.”
“Maybe after this, the pranks will go back to being more innocent,” Emma says. “Just more intricate.”
“For some reason I don’t find that any more comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant that way,” Emma replies. “Just an observation-“
Emma’s interrupted by a dozen or so flour bombs exploding again. Will grabs Emma and drags her under the table. It gives a bit of protection from the attack, but not much.
Once the dust has settled and everything’s calmed slightly, they both crawl out from under the table. Everything is covered with flour, there are chunks of flour goop everywhere and there’s still a bit of flour dust floating about the room.
“I better go get a janitor,” Will says.
“I need to clean up,” Emma manages as she quickly exits.
Will watches her scurry out and down the hall before heading in the opposite direction.
…
“Did you hear?” Kurt asks Mercedes as she sits down for lunch.
“What?”
“The teachers got hit again,” Kurt tells her. “Flour bomb.”
“The prankster is really going after people, isn’t he?” Mercedes questions.
"Rather fiercely, too," Kurt agrees.
"Bored?"
"Maybe," Kurt replies. "Or he works at a flour factory and they got an extra shipment by accident."
"Yeah, that seems the most likely," Mercedes says.
"I don't hear you coming up with any ideas," Kurt replies.
"True," Mercedes agrees. "But a flour factory?"
"It's a thing," Kurt defends.
"Uh huh."
…
Thursday morning, Figgins looks around the room, agitated. Sue is late for the faculty staff meeting. She always is, but it's usually just a minute or two; to make some sort of point. Today she is nearly ten minutes late. He decides to start without her.
"All right, Sue is obviously not going to grace us with her presence, so let's get started."
"I want to start with the disturbing large increase of pranks as of late--"
And then the staff meeting becomes anarchy as several flour bombs go off. One. Two. Three. Four. They just keep going off, one after another.
Everyone is covered with blue hair gel and flour, Figgins included. Try as he might, he can't regain order, especially since many teachers run out to get cleaned up.
"Sorry I'm late," Sue says, suddenly standing next to him. "Had something more important to do. I miss anything?"
Figgins ignores Sue and goes to clean up.
…
Thursday afternoon, Puck grabs Rachel after glee.
"Noah, the physical restraint isn't necessary," Rachel tells him. "If you wish to speak me, just say so."
"We need to talk," Puck says.
"I gathered." Rachel looks around. The choir room is empty. "What about?"
"You hanging out with blondie now?"
"Her name is Marisa," Rachel replies. "And yes."
"You've got to stop leading the freshman on," he tells her.
"What? I am doing no such thing," Rachel retorts.
"You are. I know you miss Lopez, but the kid is starting to think you might be into her."
"She is not."
“She is,” Puck insists. “I know you’re upset with Lopez because she slushied the kid, but I think what you’re doing is much crueler.”
“And what, pray tell, am I doing?” Rachel asks.
“You’re leading her on. You guys have been hanging out a lot lately. Which you only do if you’re into someone, but don’t know how to tell them.”
“That’s not necessarily always true,” Rachel tries.
“Maybe not, but it is this time,” Puck replies. "Not to mention, Lopez is so green she's pretty much turned into the Hulk. She's going to do something drastic soon."
"Noah, I…"
"You know I'm right, bro. Sort your shit out."
"It wasn't intentional," Rachel says.
"I know, Rach," Puck replies. "But acknowledging the problem is the first step, right?"
"I suppose."
"So hang with the kid today, but later you better sit down and really think about what you want. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Good. Call me later if you need to or whatever."
And Puck walks out leaving Rachel staring at the door, lost in thought.
…
Hanging out with Marisa, Rachel can admit she's distracted. Noah's words are echoing in her head and she can't help but agree with them. She's a horrible person; she has totally led Marisa on. Even if it wasn’t on purpose, it’s still worse than Santana slushing Marisa.
She's still upset that Santana would resort to slushing someone for intimidation, but the romantic dreamer in her finds the concept terribly romantic. She wishes Santana could have staked her claim in a different way, but she does understand the sentiment.
Rachel wonders if breaking up with Santana was too strong of move. It certainly wasn't planned. It simply happened amidst their argument. She finds herself doing that a lot with Santana, reacting. Usually it works out.
Rachel sighs. She has to do something to fix the situation.
…
The moment Puck parks his truck at McKinley, Friday morning, Rachel Berry is suddenly sitting next to him.
“Berry.”
Rachel hands him two egg McMuffins.
“Uh, thanks…”
“You were right, Noah,” Rachel admits. “I thought about what you said quite a bit last night and I can admit it.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome. I like when that happens.”
…
When the rush of icy cold hits him, Will wonders when he became someone resigned to being slushied. Though he'll probably never admit it out loud, he thinks that maybe he understand Rachel and Kurt a bit more. Having to endure this daily, not know when it's going to happen is akin to agony to him. He finds himself tense, waiting and worrying. It's an unnerving way to spend a day.
He's also gotten quite good at doing a full clean up at school. Using the teacher's bathroom helps quite a bit, but it's still an art form. He tries to comfort himself with this fact.
It never works.
…
Santana decides to spend Friday lunch on the bleachers. She's just not in the mood for the chatter of the lunch room. People might still be scurrying out of her way in the halls, but she's also overheard talk of her being despondent over Rachel. And while this may be true, she doesn't feel it's the school's damn business.
She ignores the texts and calls from everyone, even Britt. She just wants to be alone for a bit. She knows her bouncy, blonde best friend will find her eventually, but for the moment, she just tries to enjoy the solitude stretched out on the bleachers.
Eventually there's a shadow blocking the sun and solitude. Still if her eyes are closed, then she can still deny that she's no longer alone.
"I should make you run suicides for hours for this lack of respect, Lopez."
Santana's eyes snap open and she almost falls off the bench she's lying on trying to sit up.
"Relax," Coach Sylvester says sitting on the bench above the one Santana's stretches out on.
"Coach, I uh, I didn't--"
"Lopez, I said relax."
"Right Coach."
It's quiet as Santana tries to relax and Coach Sylvester stares out at the field.
"Hiding?"
"Santana Lopez doesn't hide," she scoffs.
Coach Sylvester smirks.
"I don't feel the need to deal with those Neanderthals," Santana replies. "As one of McKinley's royalty it is within my rights to ignore the herd when I feel like it."
"Uh huh."
"It's been a long week, Coach."
"Berry really has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?"
Santana just sighs.
"I wouldn't worry about it, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "She'll figure out what she's missing and come back soon enough."
"Yeah, well she's taking her damn time, isn't she?" Santana grumbles.
Coach Sylvester just smirks.
"Maybe she thinks you deserve it."
Santana sits up. ” That I could understand. I'm pretty sure that's not why she's doing it."
"No, I doubt that's why she's doing it," Coach Sylvester agrees.
"Yeah, I know."
"Despite the cunning, deviousness, treachery and strategizing she has," Coach Sylvester continues.
"I know."
"She really is the perfect partner for you, Lopez," Coach Sylvester tells her. "When she takes you back, try not to fuck it up so badly next time. All right?"
Coach Sylvester stands.
"Thanks Coach."
Coach Sylvester nods and slowly walks down the bleachers.
…
Rachel has been sighing a lot, Marisa’s noticed. She finds it extremely disconcerting.
"Marisa," Rachel says eventually. "I think we need to talk."
"All right," Marisa replies, cautiously.
"It's come to my attention that I'm perhaps doing you a disservice," Rachel says.
"I don't know what that means."
"I hadn't realized, until Santana said something, that you may have feelings for me," Rachel explained. "And while I didn't think I was giving you any signs of mutual affection, I find I'm often wrong in such matters."
"Oh."
"So I apologize if I gave you the impression I might return your romantic intentions."
"Uh…"
"In all honestly, Santana and I are too intertwined. The hiatus we're experiencing will most likely be over soon," Rachel continues. "I don't mean to be cruel. I'm just trying to be honest."
"Hey, no big deal," Marisa replies. "I kinda figured it was too soon, at the very least."
"I see."
"I appreciate the honesty either way," Marisa says.
"Yes, well it is one thing I'm excellent at," Rachel replies, quietly. "I really am sorry, Marisa."
"Hey, it's not like you did it on purpose, Rach," Marisa tells her. "I probably wanted it too much and was like projecting or whatever."
"I'd like to keep hanging out, but I understand if you feel otherwise."
"Won't your girlfriend get jealous?" Marisa asks.
"So what?"
"That seems sorta insensitive," Marisa comments.
"Yes, well, apparently I excel at it."
"I'm not mad," Marisa tells her.
"Just hurt," Rachel replies.
Marisa shrugs. "Part of life and all that. Plus, I can use it for my acting right?"
"That's an amazing pragmatic way of looking at it," Rachel observes. "I think you've been hanging out with me too much."
Marisa just gives a small smile.
…
Friday night, Puck is practically yanked into the house before he can even knock.
"What the hell Berry?"
"I wish to get back together with Santana," Rachel says.
"About fucking time," Puck replies.
"Is the cursing really necessary?"
"Hell yeah," Puck replies. "So what's the plan?"
"That's the problem," Rachel says. "I can't decide if I should just go over there and grovel or if a Rachel Berry like romantic gesture would be more appropriate."
"Hmmm."
"So you see my quandary, Noah."
"Well, considering Santana's made a couple of attempts and you shot her down, it seems only fair."
"Yes, but I've made my own romantic gestures," Rachel replies. "It seems only fair."
"Are you keeping score?" Puck asks. "Because I don't think that's particularly helpful."
"I suppose not."
"We'll figure it out," Puck says holding up the beer he brought.
"Alcohol is not conducive to the decision making process."
"Maybe not, but I don't hear you coming up with any better ideas."
Part Five
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Puck, Marisa, Mike, Quinn, Will, Sue
Rating: R
Summary: Santana gets jealous. Rachel does not approve of her coping methods.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~6,000 (this part) / ~27,600 (total)
Spoilers: Just the previous stories in this series
A/N: Follows Everything's Different, but Nothing's Changed. Apologies. I know it's been over a month. But at least it's the longest thing I've written yet. I'd promise next time it'll be better, but that might be a lie. However, I do have several stories still floating around, so I'm not giving up on this series. I'd actually planned on the next part being part 2 of the Ambitions trilogy to be next, but then a comment from darcelynn was the missing piece I needed for the next fic, so here we are. So yeah, hopefully this was worth the wait.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.
series masterlist
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Michelle Jamison is waiting for Rachel Monday morning.
"Morning," Rachel greets.
"Berry," Michelle replies. "It's the beginning of another week of you being unattached."
"Thank you for the update."
"So you're still not gonna give me a chance?"
"Michelle," Rachel says. "You and I both know you don't really mean that. You just like tweaking Santana."
"Perhaps," Michelle admits. "However, what's up with you and the little blonde freshman? Tell me you didn't turn me down for her."
"Okay. Then I won't."
"Berry, seriously? A freshman?"
"Marisa and I are just friends," Rachel informs Michelle.
"Uh huh, whatever you say, Berry," Michelle replies.
…
Santana's ire rises Monday morning when she sees Michelle Jamieson leaning into Rachel at her locker. Only this time there's nothing she can do about it. This time she has no claim over Rachel. Watching the interaction, Santana can almost see the smirk of arrogance on Jamieson's face.
Brittany actually wraps their finger together, not just their pinkys and leads Santana away.
"We'll think of something, San," she whispers.
Santana just nods.
…
When Will is gathering his things at the end of the day, he's still wary of being slushied. He wish he knew what set off the slushier, because the randomness is quite disconcerting.
He opens his desk drawer for papers he needs to grade and is treated to a squirt gun slushie facial.
Blue raspberry. He sighs and wipes his face clean with his hand. It's late enough that he simply dries off with the towel in his desk before heading out.
…
"You know, if you ever decide you don't want to be a star, you'd be a good teacher," Mike tells Rachel Monday afternoon.
They're hanging out at Rachel's. Mike was curious about her knife throwing.
"Wednesday did go rather well, didn't it?" Rachel replies.
"I just never pictured Rachel Berry good with kids," Mike says.
"Well, I was just like them when I was younger," Rachel explains. "Well, I was a bit more advanced talent wise, but that same sort of attitude and hunger, that I understand. I'm fairly certain it'd be different if I was a school teacher." Rachel throws three knives in quick succession. They form a triangle. "And if I gave up my dream, I'm not sure I wouldn't resent them for still having only possibilities in front of them. Does that make me a horrible person?"
"No. It's incredibly self aware and very honest."
"Yes, well, it still makes me sound rather selfish," Rachel replies.
"I'd call you frank," Mike says.
"I'd rather be called Rachel," she replies.
Mike smirks. "Can I try?"
"Sure, but don't tell Noah."
Mike's smirk grows.
…
Tuesday morning, Will walks into his office, whistling Journey and hopeful about the day. This ends quickly as a slushie drops on him from the ceiling. And when he looks up to find the source, a second one barrels down on him. He just has time to close his eyes before it hits.
He's a bit numb to it after getting hit with the first, but it fully covers his face, hair and neck which is very sticky. He grimaces and tastes blue raspberry. He almost misses the grape since it's slightly easier to get out of clothes and for some reason feels slightly less sticky.
He gets up with a resigned sigh, grabs his spare clothes and heads for the bathroom.
…
After hanging out all day Saturday, Marisa feels she's making progress with Rachel.
"We're friends, right Rach?" Marisa asks.
"Of course," Rachel replies. "I don't spend all day watching musicals with just anyone."
"Oh. I suppose not."
"Besides, now that you've experienced a slushie, we have a common bond."
"I guess that's one thing to come out of it," Marisa says.
"I realize it's not a club a person wants to belong to, but that's McKinley," Rachel tells her.
…
Tuesday glee is more productive. Rachel is feeling more positive about her week, though she blames that entirely on looking forward to pranking than anything else. She's decided to keep her moving on philosophy and avoid looking Santana's way at all costs; because when she does her heart pounds wildly before clenching tightly in her chest.
She knows she needs to deal with the break up, but there always seems to be something else to do. At least that's what she tells herself.
…
Wednesday at lunch Brittany receives a text.
B, you, Santana and Becky shouldn't bother going into the locker room before Cheerios' practice. The Prankster
Brittany sighs. She's glad for the heads up, but she wishes Santana and Rachel had made up by now. Then the three of them plus Puck could sit around later and chat about Rachel's pranks and maybe Santana's slushing of Mr. Schue.
Maybe tomorrow she and Puck can try getting them back together again, she thinks as she stands, looking for Santana.
Spotting her across the lunch room, she quickly makes her way over and explains the text she just got. Santana gets a sad look in her eyes before nodding her head.
Wanting to say more, but not knowing what to say and knowing Santana wouldn't up at school anyway, Brittany just nods back and goes to find Becky.
…
Wednesday afternoon after school, Will steps into his office and slumps into his desk. Today was a particularly long day and all he wants to do is go home. Unfortunately, he has a few things to take care of before he can leave.
Thinking only of getting out of there as soon as possible, the slushie squirt gun that hits him directly in the face takes him completely by surprise.
He actually sputters as the icy, sweet liquid drips off his face onto his desk. It's blue raspberry again, so he reluctantly doesn't wipe it on his shirt sleeve. Instead, he reaches into his right bottom drawer and pulls out a towel, which he uses to wipe his face clean. He then runs it through his hair before tossing it on the floor. He'll take it home and wash it so he can be prepared for the next attack.
…
Santana, Brittany and Becky are the first ones on the field, having stuffed their things in a locker and scurrying out. Coach Sylvester starts to look annoyed when people aren't on the field five minutes early per usual. When they're officially one minute late, Coach Sylvester begins bellowing through her bullhorn at them.
All three girls know the bullhorn can be heard in the locker room, but not very well. So none of them expect the Coach's orders to be heard. It would probably also help if they knew what exactly was going on.
When the others are a full five minutes late, Coach turns to the three standing on the field.
"What makes you three so special?!"
"You already know the answer to that Coach!" Brittany yells back.
The bullhorn is dropped a moment. Santana counts to sixty-seven before it's brought back up.
"All right then, blondie, go investigate what's keeping those failures!"
"Right Coach," Brittany salutes.
Becky looks around as Brittany runs off to investigate.
"Where's Quinn?" she whispers.
"Not here today," Santana whispers back.
"Oh."
"What?"
"At first I thought you just didn't warn her," Becky explains. "And I couldn't figure out why."
"Oh. Okay."
Brittany runs up a moment later.
"Well?!" Sue yells.
"They're cleaning up, Coach," Brittany says. "I guess like twenty flour bombs went off. Everyone's covered in flour and hair gel, except I guess there was red dye inside, cause everyone's kinda pinkish."
"This I have to see," Santana mutters. She steps next to Brittany. "Permission to go look and laugh Coach."
Coach Sylvester comes down and joins them on the field.
"It sounds like an excellent field trip," she says. "Let's all go."
The three girls fall in step behind Coach Sylvester as they march towards the locker room.
When they arrive, it's chaos. Girls are running around, crying, cursing and all desperately trying to clean up. The room itself looks like it's been doused in red Kool-Aid.
Surprisingly, Coach doesn't say anything, but simply watches. The three girls watch as a small grin appears. However, it's gone very quickly and Santana is beckoned over.
"Yeah Coach?"
"Your girlfriend may be a genius, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says quietly. "Look at this pandemonium."
"Ex," Santana mutters.
"Yes, I'd heard rumors," Coach Sylvester confirms. "I was hoping it was just talk. Well, whatever you did, apologize for it and give the girl flowers or whatever Berry thinks is romantic. And do it quick before that freshman steals her right from under your nose."
Santana can only stare.
"Shut your mouth, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "You're letting flys in."
"Course Coach. Right."
…
"What if we got a string quartet to back you up?" Brittany asks. "Or a jazz band?"
"Too similar."
"Sky writing?"
"That's a little too personal to put up in the sky for all Lima to see," Santana replies.
"You could write her a song," Brittany suggests.
"Maybe, but I don't think I'd be too good at it."
"Poetry?"
"Same thing."
"Shakespeare?"
"Hmmm," Santana replies. "Maybe. Let's see if I still have a copy of Romeo and Juliet laying around.
…
Will has been sitting at his desk for nearly fifteen minutes when he's hit with a slushie Thursday morning. He's so resigned to it, that he simply closes his eyes and mouth before reaching for his freshly laundered towel. Once most of the blue raspberry is out of his eyes and hair, he grabs his spare clothes and heads to the bathroom.
Maybe he should invest in one of those quarantine suits they have in movies. Maybe it'd insulate him from other annoying aspects of McKinley as well. Somehow he doubts it.
…
Thursday Mike Chang joins them for lunch and Marisa wants to resent him for invading her one on one with Rachel. However, it's difficult when he's so sweet and funny. Plus, he gets this amazing smile out of Rachel when he talks about them dancing together. Marisa fights her jealousy. As far as Marisa knows, Rachel has no interest in Mike Chang romantically, but watching them spin around the room together, it's hard not to be jealous.
…
Meanwhile, Kurt and Mercedes are desperately analyzing the flour bombs hitting all the Cheerios the day before. While the girls suffered most of it, the guys received similar treatment with a dozen or so flour bombs filled with red food coloring dropping on their heads.
However, Kurt once again escaped it; as did Brittany, Santana and Becky. Quinn was gone Wednesday, but both Mercedes and Kurt assume she would have been spared as well.
"It has to be Santana," Kurt says. "She's protecting her own."
"And you?" Mercedes asks.
"She knows Rachel would be upset if I was hit too," Kurt explains.
"Even though they're broken up?" Mercedes questions.
"Santana's trying to win her back," Kurt replies.
"How?"
"Why do you think there's an increase of pranks?" Kurt asks. "She's trying to impress her."
"Pranks? Really?"
"It's Santana," Kurt shrugs.
…
Quinn didn't think it was possible, but she really wish Rachel would just forgive Santana already, so they could get back together. She supposes that means she's really truly over Rachel.
"Or you've realized the inevitable," Brittany says joining Quinn on the bleachers for lunch.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That Santana and Rachel belong together," Brittany explains. "Being who they are, there's probably more drama in their future, but they'll still end up together."
"It's been two weeks," Quinn points out. "I thought for sure, Berry would have caved this past week."
"Two weeks isn't that long, Quinn."
"It is in high school time," Quinn replies.
Brittany smiles. "I suppose that's true. But give 'em a bit more time. You'll see."
"Goody," Quinn mutters.
"It'll be okay, Quinn," Brittany says. "We'll figure you out next."
"That'll definitely take longer than two weeks."
…
It's lunchtime and Will's made it this far in the day without being slushied. He knows it's coming, but he hopes it's more towards the end of the day, so he can just go home and clean up. A shower is really the only satisfying way to remove all the dried, sticky sweetness.
Unfortunately, luck is not on his side today. He is hit just as he sits in his chair to eat. With a sigh, he stands. It seems half of his lunch is going to be spent cleaning up. Again.
…
"Please tell me you've got something planned for tonight, bro," Puck says in lieu of a greeting Friday night.
"I want to do a lot more pranking this week."
"Seriously?" Puck asks. "Cause you got the Cheerios pretty good Wednesday."
"I know," Rachel smirks. "It's not enough though. I need more."
"Uh, okay."
"What?"
"You sound a little like an insane cartoon villain is all," Puck explains.
"Oh. Is that good or bad?"
"Just an observation, bro."
"So you'll help me?" Rachel asks.
"Course," Puck replies. "What else am I going to do?"
…
Santana isn't up for hanging out Friday night. She tells B to go out and have fun.
"Are you sure, San?" Brittany asks. "I mean, I don't mind. I like hanging with you."
"Even when I'm being all pathetic and emo?"
"Quinn said that, not me," Brittany answers.
"I notice you didn't deny it, though."
Brittany sighs. "If you're sure…"
"I am."
"All right," Brittany replies. "I'll see if Quinn's up for doing anything."
"Have fun, Britt."
…
It's a little early; only early evening, but Santana can't wait anymore. She drives to Rachel's arms with flowers and a pocket full of pebbles.
When she arrives she walks around to the back of the house and can see that Rachel's in her room. She begins to throw the pebbles at the window. One. Hit. Two. Miss. Three. Miss. Four. Hit.
And then Rachel's window opens. She looks down and sees Santana. She shakes her head and begins to close her window.
Santana knows she doesn't have much time, so she just jumps in.
"But, soft! What light through yonder window break? It is the east, and Rachel is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief. That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing; what of this? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven--"
"That was lovely," Rachel interrupts.
"I have a bit more actually," Santana says. “I’m surprised you let me get this far.”
“I was curious how much you’d memorized,” Rachel answers.
“A lot,” Santana tells her.
"I appreciate the sentiment," Rachel replies. "However, I will be closing my window now." Rachel's head disappears and the window is closed.
Santana sighs and walks around front to her car, before driving home.
…
Rachel spends the rest of the evening staring out the window at the spot Santana had stood. She had been completely floored that Santana would recite Shakespeare to her. It was not the expected next step of the wooing process. But Santana does manage to surprise her plenty, which she loves.
Rachel sighs. She really misses her girlfriend.
…
Santana lays at her bed, staring at the ceiling. It took a while to come up with that idea. It's probably going to take a whole week to come up with something else. Part of her wonders if it's even worth the effort. Rachel's so stubborn; if she's going to forgive Santana, it'll be done when Rachel's ready and not a moment sooner.
She hopes it's sooner rather than later. She really misses her girlfriend.
…
“Judging by the expression you’re wearing, I’m guess Rachel won’t be joining us this evening,” Mr. Lopez says as Santana sits down the dinner Sunday night.
Santana shakes her head.
"Are you ever going to tells what occurred?" Mrs. Lopez asks.
Santana shakes her head again.
"I see," he says. "Are you doing anything to get her back?"
"Of course, papa," Santana replies.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Lopez wait for their daughter to explain.
Finally after a minute, Mrs. Lopez asks, "Well?"
Santana sighs. "It's not going as well as I'd hope."
"Perhaps you should watch more romantic comedies," Mrs. Lopez suggests.
"No way," Santana says. "Too cliché."
"So?" Mrs. Lopez asks. "Rachel did it. Why can't you?"
"You saw that?"
Mrs. Lopez nods. "Believe it or not, San, we do pay attention."
"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of."
"Maybe we should just let the girl eat in peace," Mr. Lopez says.
"She needs to take action," Mrs. Lopez replies.
"I am, mom," Santana tells her.
"Good. That girl better be back here for dinner soon, then."
"Yes mom."
…
Rachel is stretched out on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her clock reads 6:45 p.m. She knows the Lopez family is sitting down to dinner and eating. She wishes she was there. It feels like it's been forever since she's been over there for Sunday dinner.
The whole incident with her fathers has reminded her how alone she used to be. Rachel presumed that was all behind her, but apparently not. Though, she supposes, she did it to herself.
Before Santana, Rachel used to console herself with thoughts of her future; being on Broadway, being famous, knowing most of her peers will still be in Ohio. However, lately, Santana has found her way into Rachel’s future daydreams. Removing her from the equation leaves Rachel feeling even more isolated.
The weight of everything unexpectedly comes crashing down on her. The emotions she’s been holding back: sadness, loneliness, self-doubt, and even a little self pity are suddenly too overwhelming for her and she begins to cry.
Clutching her pillow, the tears turn into sobs, which quickly becomes weeping and gasping for breath. She just can’t seem to stop. She really wishes Santana was here to hold her through all this; Rachel realizes how crazy that thought is since Santana’s absence is the catalyst.
However, as the tears continue to flow, Rachel knows she’s also crying because of her fathers. She’s never really let herself properly react to her fathers’ dismissal of her presence at such a young age. At first, she was so caught up in training to become a star. And then it seemed silly to dwell in the past; so much of her life is prepping for the future. But now, laying on her bed, crying to herself, Rachel can acknowledge how hurt and alone she really feels.
…
Another week has begun and Santana’s beginning to wonder if she and Rachel are truly over.
“Don’t think like that,” Brittany tells her. “You’re Santana fucking Lopez. If you want your girl back, you’ll get her back.”
“I’m starting to doubt it,” Santana replies.
“We’ve barely begun,” Brittany says. “Your wooing back attempts have been mild at best. Once you really step up the efforts, she’ll be putty in your hands. Or whatever.”
“Yeah?”
“Course,” Brittany replies. “Just because you were relationship impaired before doesn’t mean you are now.”
“Thanks Britt.”
“You’re just going to have to try harder.”
“Easier said than done,” Santana mutters.
…
Kurt and Mercedes are on their way to lunch when they hear it: a mini explosion, yelling and then chaos.
A moment later, several teachers exit the teacher lounge, cursing covered in flour.
"Prankster," Mercedes whispers as they watch.
"Good," Kurt replies. "Let them have to deal with cleaning up at school."
"Harsh," Mercedes says.
"Well, we had to do it for years and they never did anything."
"I'll give Santana credit," Kurt continues. "When she wants to, she can be quite thorough."
"I still don't understand why you think it's Santana," Mercedes says.
"I don't understand how you can't," Kurt counters.
"Just because I don't know who it is means it's Santana."
"Course not," Kurt agrees. "That's not why I think it."
They try to stay out of the way and watch the bedlam that the prankster has caused. Most of the faculty are running around, seemingly lost and confused.
Finally when the janitors show up, the pandemonium seems to lessen. Having a great deal of experience with the prankster's antics, they begin cleaning up the mess.
Both Kurt and Mercedes are thrown by how calm things become once the janitors appear and begin cleaning up.
"So apparently cleanliness is the solution to chaos?" Mercedes suggests.
Kurt just shrugs.
…
Marisa isn't sure what it is, but something is different. She's having lunch with Rachel, which has become a daily occurrence, but something's changed. She hopes it's how Rachel views her because she's slowly working up her courage to ask Rachel out.
Then again, she doesn't know exactly how Rachel sees her. She knows they're friends, but Marisa acknowledges it may be too soon for Rachel to think about going out with someone else. However, Marisa knows she'll regret it if she doesn't try.
She's actually surprised she hasn’t seen Santana. Marisa fully expected the Cheerio to be in her face about hanging out with Rachel. Marisa's not complaining. She's not sure she could survive another encounter with Santana; who knows what else she would do to Marisa.
…
Will enters his office at the end of the day only to be hit with another slushie. He sighs as he wipes his face clean and sets his things on his desk. Checking the time, he debates cleaning up or if it'd just be easier to head home a bit early.
Because it's only Monday, Will decides to head home. He grabs the quizzes he needs to grade and heads out, still dripping blue raspberry slushie.
…
Tuesday Santana still hasn't thought of her next move with Rachel. She knows she needs something impressive to get Rachel's attention, but subtle enough it still screams Santana to Rachel. That perfect balance is the key factor.
"A love poem."
"Hardly."
Brittany, bless her heart, is still suggesting things.
"A love letter then?"
"Not enough."
"What about a big song and dance number in her driveway?" Brittany asks.
"That might actually work," Santana admits. "But I'm not sure I could pull it off."
"What about an iconic song from an iconic musical?" Brittany tries. "Like that one from West Side Story? I just met a girl named Maria or whatever. What if you changed that to Rachel?"
"Maybe," Santana says. "Though I'm not sure how well it would work. Different amount of syllables and all that."
"True," Brittany agrees. "What if you just kiss her senseless?"
"Um…"
"You just kiss her until she takes you back. You're a great kisser, S."
"Thanks Britt."
…
Marisa is once again leaning against Rachel's car waiting for her to be done with glee. Several times it's been suggested that Marisa join glee as well, but she just can't. There are the reasons she gives Rachel: she's not a strong singer or dancer, she doesn't have time between school and theater and she still has time to join later. However, the real reason is that seeing Rachel perform is an amazing experience and every time it reminds Marisa how much in love she is. Knowing Rachel doesn't feel the same way makes watching a bit painful.
Though if Rachel is into her a bit, like Marisa's starting to think she might be, maybe it'll be okay. She'll have to worry about the daggers shooting out of Santana's eyes, but with Rachel by her side anything is possible.
So maybe glee is in her future. Who knows. All Marisa knows is Rachel is skipping towards her with a grin on her face and Marisa fights the urge to run towards Rachel and kiss her senseless right in the middle of the parking lot.
Instead she smiles back and climbs into Rachel's car.
…
Wednesday morning it’s quiet in the teacher’s lounge. With the prankster escalating his antics, everyone’s feeling a bit on edge. What will he have in store next? Everyone speculates what could have changed to make the prankster up his game.
“Do you still think it’s Noah Puckerman?” Emma asks Will over coffee.
Will shakes his head. “I don’t know anymore. These flour bombs are rather severe in comparison to the previous pranks.”
“Yes, but there are plenty of previous pranks that were complex and complicated. Perhaps whoever it is wrongly trying to explore other avenues.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Will replies. “That means we’re in for it.”
“Maybe after this, the pranks will go back to being more innocent,” Emma says. “Just more intricate.”
“For some reason I don’t find that any more comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant that way,” Emma replies. “Just an observation-“
Emma’s interrupted by a dozen or so flour bombs exploding again. Will grabs Emma and drags her under the table. It gives a bit of protection from the attack, but not much.
Once the dust has settled and everything’s calmed slightly, they both crawl out from under the table. Everything is covered with flour, there are chunks of flour goop everywhere and there’s still a bit of flour dust floating about the room.
“I better go get a janitor,” Will says.
“I need to clean up,” Emma manages as she quickly exits.
Will watches her scurry out and down the hall before heading in the opposite direction.
…
“Did you hear?” Kurt asks Mercedes as she sits down for lunch.
“What?”
“The teachers got hit again,” Kurt tells her. “Flour bomb.”
“The prankster is really going after people, isn’t he?” Mercedes questions.
"Rather fiercely, too," Kurt agrees.
"Bored?"
"Maybe," Kurt replies. "Or he works at a flour factory and they got an extra shipment by accident."
"Yeah, that seems the most likely," Mercedes says.
"I don't hear you coming up with any ideas," Kurt replies.
"True," Mercedes agrees. "But a flour factory?"
"It's a thing," Kurt defends.
"Uh huh."
…
Thursday morning, Figgins looks around the room, agitated. Sue is late for the faculty staff meeting. She always is, but it's usually just a minute or two; to make some sort of point. Today she is nearly ten minutes late. He decides to start without her.
"All right, Sue is obviously not going to grace us with her presence, so let's get started."
"I want to start with the disturbing large increase of pranks as of late--"
And then the staff meeting becomes anarchy as several flour bombs go off. One. Two. Three. Four. They just keep going off, one after another.
Everyone is covered with blue hair gel and flour, Figgins included. Try as he might, he can't regain order, especially since many teachers run out to get cleaned up.
"Sorry I'm late," Sue says, suddenly standing next to him. "Had something more important to do. I miss anything?"
Figgins ignores Sue and goes to clean up.
…
Thursday afternoon, Puck grabs Rachel after glee.
"Noah, the physical restraint isn't necessary," Rachel tells him. "If you wish to speak me, just say so."
"We need to talk," Puck says.
"I gathered." Rachel looks around. The choir room is empty. "What about?"
"You hanging out with blondie now?"
"Her name is Marisa," Rachel replies. "And yes."
"You've got to stop leading the freshman on," he tells her.
"What? I am doing no such thing," Rachel retorts.
"You are. I know you miss Lopez, but the kid is starting to think you might be into her."
"She is not."
“She is,” Puck insists. “I know you’re upset with Lopez because she slushied the kid, but I think what you’re doing is much crueler.”
“And what, pray tell, am I doing?” Rachel asks.
“You’re leading her on. You guys have been hanging out a lot lately. Which you only do if you’re into someone, but don’t know how to tell them.”
“That’s not necessarily always true,” Rachel tries.
“Maybe not, but it is this time,” Puck replies. "Not to mention, Lopez is so green she's pretty much turned into the Hulk. She's going to do something drastic soon."
"Noah, I…"
"You know I'm right, bro. Sort your shit out."
"It wasn't intentional," Rachel says.
"I know, Rach," Puck replies. "But acknowledging the problem is the first step, right?"
"I suppose."
"So hang with the kid today, but later you better sit down and really think about what you want. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Good. Call me later if you need to or whatever."
And Puck walks out leaving Rachel staring at the door, lost in thought.
…
Hanging out with Marisa, Rachel can admit she's distracted. Noah's words are echoing in her head and she can't help but agree with them. She's a horrible person; she has totally led Marisa on. Even if it wasn’t on purpose, it’s still worse than Santana slushing Marisa.
She's still upset that Santana would resort to slushing someone for intimidation, but the romantic dreamer in her finds the concept terribly romantic. She wishes Santana could have staked her claim in a different way, but she does understand the sentiment.
Rachel wonders if breaking up with Santana was too strong of move. It certainly wasn't planned. It simply happened amidst their argument. She finds herself doing that a lot with Santana, reacting. Usually it works out.
Rachel sighs. She has to do something to fix the situation.
…
The moment Puck parks his truck at McKinley, Friday morning, Rachel Berry is suddenly sitting next to him.
“Berry.”
Rachel hands him two egg McMuffins.
“Uh, thanks…”
“You were right, Noah,” Rachel admits. “I thought about what you said quite a bit last night and I can admit it.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome. I like when that happens.”
…
When the rush of icy cold hits him, Will wonders when he became someone resigned to being slushied. Though he'll probably never admit it out loud, he thinks that maybe he understand Rachel and Kurt a bit more. Having to endure this daily, not know when it's going to happen is akin to agony to him. He finds himself tense, waiting and worrying. It's an unnerving way to spend a day.
He's also gotten quite good at doing a full clean up at school. Using the teacher's bathroom helps quite a bit, but it's still an art form. He tries to comfort himself with this fact.
It never works.
…
Santana decides to spend Friday lunch on the bleachers. She's just not in the mood for the chatter of the lunch room. People might still be scurrying out of her way in the halls, but she's also overheard talk of her being despondent over Rachel. And while this may be true, she doesn't feel it's the school's damn business.
She ignores the texts and calls from everyone, even Britt. She just wants to be alone for a bit. She knows her bouncy, blonde best friend will find her eventually, but for the moment, she just tries to enjoy the solitude stretched out on the bleachers.
Eventually there's a shadow blocking the sun and solitude. Still if her eyes are closed, then she can still deny that she's no longer alone.
"I should make you run suicides for hours for this lack of respect, Lopez."
Santana's eyes snap open and she almost falls off the bench she's lying on trying to sit up.
"Relax," Coach Sylvester says sitting on the bench above the one Santana's stretches out on.
"Coach, I uh, I didn't--"
"Lopez, I said relax."
"Right Coach."
It's quiet as Santana tries to relax and Coach Sylvester stares out at the field.
"Hiding?"
"Santana Lopez doesn't hide," she scoffs.
Coach Sylvester smirks.
"I don't feel the need to deal with those Neanderthals," Santana replies. "As one of McKinley's royalty it is within my rights to ignore the herd when I feel like it."
"Uh huh."
"It's been a long week, Coach."
"Berry really has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?"
Santana just sighs.
"I wouldn't worry about it, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "She'll figure out what she's missing and come back soon enough."
"Yeah, well she's taking her damn time, isn't she?" Santana grumbles.
Coach Sylvester just smirks.
"Maybe she thinks you deserve it."
Santana sits up. ” That I could understand. I'm pretty sure that's not why she's doing it."
"No, I doubt that's why she's doing it," Coach Sylvester agrees.
"Yeah, I know."
"Despite the cunning, deviousness, treachery and strategizing she has," Coach Sylvester continues.
"I know."
"She really is the perfect partner for you, Lopez," Coach Sylvester tells her. "When she takes you back, try not to fuck it up so badly next time. All right?"
Coach Sylvester stands.
"Thanks Coach."
Coach Sylvester nods and slowly walks down the bleachers.
…
Rachel has been sighing a lot, Marisa’s noticed. She finds it extremely disconcerting.
"Marisa," Rachel says eventually. "I think we need to talk."
"All right," Marisa replies, cautiously.
"It's come to my attention that I'm perhaps doing you a disservice," Rachel says.
"I don't know what that means."
"I hadn't realized, until Santana said something, that you may have feelings for me," Rachel explained. "And while I didn't think I was giving you any signs of mutual affection, I find I'm often wrong in such matters."
"Oh."
"So I apologize if I gave you the impression I might return your romantic intentions."
"Uh…"
"In all honestly, Santana and I are too intertwined. The hiatus we're experiencing will most likely be over soon," Rachel continues. "I don't mean to be cruel. I'm just trying to be honest."
"Hey, no big deal," Marisa replies. "I kinda figured it was too soon, at the very least."
"I see."
"I appreciate the honesty either way," Marisa says.
"Yes, well it is one thing I'm excellent at," Rachel replies, quietly. "I really am sorry, Marisa."
"Hey, it's not like you did it on purpose, Rach," Marisa tells her. "I probably wanted it too much and was like projecting or whatever."
"I'd like to keep hanging out, but I understand if you feel otherwise."
"Won't your girlfriend get jealous?" Marisa asks.
"So what?"
"That seems sorta insensitive," Marisa comments.
"Yes, well, apparently I excel at it."
"I'm not mad," Marisa tells her.
"Just hurt," Rachel replies.
Marisa shrugs. "Part of life and all that. Plus, I can use it for my acting right?"
"That's an amazing pragmatic way of looking at it," Rachel observes. "I think you've been hanging out with me too much."
Marisa just gives a small smile.
…
Friday night, Puck is practically yanked into the house before he can even knock.
"What the hell Berry?"
"I wish to get back together with Santana," Rachel says.
"About fucking time," Puck replies.
"Is the cursing really necessary?"
"Hell yeah," Puck replies. "So what's the plan?"
"That's the problem," Rachel says. "I can't decide if I should just go over there and grovel or if a Rachel Berry like romantic gesture would be more appropriate."
"Hmmm."
"So you see my quandary, Noah."
"Well, considering Santana's made a couple of attempts and you shot her down, it seems only fair."
"Yes, but I've made my own romantic gestures," Rachel replies. "It seems only fair."
"Are you keeping score?" Puck asks. "Because I don't think that's particularly helpful."
"I suppose not."
"We'll figure it out," Puck says holding up the beer he brought.
"Alcohol is not conducive to the decision making process."
"Maybe not, but I don't hear you coming up with any better ideas."
Part Five