Fic: Behind Enemy Lines
Her heart is beating frantically as she’s dropped off in front of McKinley High, it looks like every other school she’s been to, not that she’s been to many, just two others, and each time she’s had to start a fresh. The first time she’d been a geek, the second she was a jock (well not really, she was on the hockey team), and as she strides through the double doors she wonders what she’s going to be this time. She’s already got her locker allocation and timetable, she isn’t met by a guide or a member of staff, but she’s 15, she doesn’t need to have someone to show her round, except in the space of 10 minutes she’s ended up in the janitors closet (and in a bit of a compromising position with the janitor) and then the staff room. She’s shown to her locker by a red haired woman who is smiling a little creepily at her and does not blink for the duration of their conversation, before heading back to the staff room. Brittany stuffs her things in her locker and re-adjusts her backpack, looking up and down the corridor in the hope that some miraculous sign will point her in the right direction of her first class.
Three boys come stalking round the corner, short hair, broad shoulders, all leering smiles and jeering loudly. Even if they weren’t wearing their jackets she’d know they were the football boys. They’re all carrying slushies, all purple, and she figures it must be the ‘cool’ drink or something here, every school has the thing that all the top kids are seen with. In an instant Brittany learns this is not the case. The short brunette who had been humming to herself a few lockers down is suddenly shoved aside and covered in the icy mess. The boys high five each other and disappear. The girl wipes it from her eyes, picking up her stuff slowly.
‘I wouldn’t bother cleaning yourself up.’
‘It’s an improvement.’
Two cheerleaders sneer at the slushied girl and Brittany feels her stomach lurch uncomfortably as they pass her. The blonde one rakes her eyes over Brittany, looking for something to say but failing as she wanders past. The brunette girl glares at her hard, and Brittany looks away quickly. They disappear round the corner, skirts swishing and pony tails bobbing.
‘Are you ok?’
‘It’s nothing I’m not used to, you have to face trails and tribulations on the rise to stardom. They’re just threatened by my talent.’
‘Oh, right. Good.’
‘I haven’t seen you before, are you new?’
‘Yeah, just got here. I’m Brittany.’
‘Rachel Berry, pleased to meet you.’
‘Yeah. Are you sure you’re ok? That stuff is really hard to clean up.’
‘I come prepared.’
The first day is a whirlwind of classes, she’s in quite a few with Rachel, and those two cheerleaders, it appears they’re all quite clever. Brittany spends the majority of the time, keeping her head down and staying quiet but she’s forced to sit near the front where the empty desks are, close to Rachel which is good, but she has to repress a cold shiver as she feels a pair of eyes burning into the back of her head constantly. She resists the urge to look around; she doesn’t want to be on anyone’s hit list.
The second day, is the same as the first, which is the same as the third and the fourth and the fifth. And by the end of the week, she’s in the habit of sitting by Rachel but not in a manner which gives people the impression that they’re friends. She also sits by some Asian girl, but she doesn’t say much, and she dresses like a member of the Addam’s family, only her last name is Cohen-Chang so she can’t be one of them, unless she gotten married already, which isn’t feasible, but it amuses Brittany to think about it all the same. At lunch time she sits outside, some days by herself, and others with Rachel, one day some guy with a Mohawk came and chatted to her, she would have preferred it if he hadn’t, he was kind of a sleaze, but then it was nice of him to pick her to crack on to, she guesses, so she’ll smile at him when she sees him around. As she walks to lunch today, she can see the cafeteria through the windows, all the student body categorized, she has the pecking order sussed; it’s all very Mean Girls.
‘It’s like being in Mean Girls.’
Rachel Berry stops in her tracks, her arm thrown to the side dramatically, arresting Brittany from continuing on her journey to the lunch hall.
‘What?!’
‘That’s it. We can end all of this, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself, of course the opportunity wouldn’t manifest until a new girl enrolled… But now you’re here, it might just work, they don’t know we’re friends, we could get you in, bring them down, start a revolution, create equality, no slushie facials, and my talent will be embraced instead of shunned. Do you know what this means Brittany? The hierarchy of McKinley High is about to topple.’
‘Wait, what?’
Brittany isn’t entirely sure how she ended up being drafted into Rachel’s mission, but that evening she finds herself at Rachel’s, among the company of three other people: Kurt, Mercedes and Artie. Kurt is fussing about her clothes, restyling her hair, and prepping her on all things Cheerios. That was the way in: become a Cheerio, win Quinn’s and Santana’s alliance and bring the bitches down, while also destroying the football squad who are dating the majority of cheerleaders. Brittany’s not entirely sure it’ll work, and half expects Rachel hasn’t even watched Mean Girls in totality, like a whole shitstorm blew up in that film, it was not a foolproof plan. Mercedes is giving her the lowdown on the romances, Quinn is dating Finn, the golden boy of school, and Santana goes with any footballer, though she stakes a claim on Puck; Puck will be easy to snag, but getting Finn would be the icing on the cake. Artie doesn’t say much, and Brittany’s not sure why he’s there, she guesses all of them have been scarred by the two girls and all that they stand for, and that he’s just there for the ride. She spends the weekend being constantly sent texts and emails about Quinn’s and Santana’s histories, their likes and dislikes, their family situation, their dreams of the future, and come Monday she feels like she’s studied for the hardest test she’s ever had to sit. Infiltrating the Terrible Twosome is not going to be easy and pulling off this mission is going to be near impossible.
If it’s one thing that has gone in their favour, it is that cheerleading tryouts are running, which means there are definitely places on the squad. Brittany’s heart pounds in her chest as she enters into the gym, she’s heard that Coach Sylvester is unhinged, and isn’t sure if she’ll be received well. She’s given a place on the squad and didn’t have a megaphone hurled at her, so Brittany assumes that her dance training has come in handy. She’s given a uniform and instantly told to wear it, everyday, with her hair tied up. Once she’s changed and looks at herself in the mirror she decides she can pull off being a Cheerio, she likes the way the skirt floats as she moves, she gets use to looks of adoration and of reverence that are thrown at her as she walks down the corridor. She thinks it’s going to be easy, or at least easier than planned, but then as she’s getting her books, her locker is slammed and she’s standing between the girls that run the hallways of this place. Quinn smiles angelically, flutters her eyelashes a little; Brittany’s been warned about the charm offensive, she’s as meek as a lamb or appears to be, but is one calculated fucker. Santana, on the other hand, is glaring at her, arms crossed, she was the one who slammed the locker, and apparently is known for letting her fists fly when her temper boils over.
‘Welcome to the Cheerios, Brittany. It is Brittany, right? I’m Quinn and this is Santana.’
‘Hi. Yeah, I’m Brittany.’
‘Well Brittany, as head Cheerio it’s my duty to make sure you know how things work around here, Santana?’
‘Listen, Blondie, Quinn’s in charge, you don’t fuck with her, you don’t fuck with Finn, that goofy giant-’
‘Santana!’ Quinn stares at Santana, her icy glare is met with a raised I-don’t-give-a-damn eyebrow.
‘Basically you don’t go near him, you do as Coach tells you at all times, you do not have illusions above your station either, you’re new, we’re the top of the pyramid, if you so much as dare to attempt outranking us…’ Santana trails off, jerking her head upwards in an intimidating manner. ‘Clear?’
Brittany looks between the two girls, it was clear this was going to be the only conversation she was going to have with them, they were beating her into submission, she would become one of the other faceless squad members who hold them up and catch them when they stumble. That was not part of the plan. She has to do something to win them over, and right now. Brittany does the one thing that could misfire completely, pique interest, or endear them to her.
‘Yes, I think so, does that mean we’re friends now? I don’t know anyone and don’t know any magic tricks so I can’t make any illusions, I once saw a magician and he gave me his wand and it kept breaking but whenever he held it, it fixed itself. That just proves I don’t have any magical skills.’
Santana looks at Quinn and they’ve entered into a silent a discourse, their faces are screaming confusion, either Brittany must be mocking them or she’s one sandwich short of a picnic. Brittany smiles innocently enough and Quinn speaks up:
‘Yeah, we’re friends. Come and join us for lunch.’
Santana looks at her sideways as they fall into step behind the queen bee.
Brittany learns that Quinn moans about anything and everything, she’s constantly got an opinion, she’s driven, and determined to be Prom Queen at any cost; high school is a microcosm of the world, if she rules here, she’ll rule in life, and the only way to rule is with tyranny. And no tyrant can hold power without their henchmen and that’s where Santana and Finn come in. Santana is a willing accomplice, although perhaps willing isn’t the right word, she’s more than aware of Quinn’s underhand nature, though Santana is also aware of her own position, and challenges Quinn constantly. Finn on the other hand is completely oblivious, unable to see through the pretty mask, and sweet voice. She’s been with them for a month now, reporting back to Rachel and the others all the gossip and the inner workings of them, she’s still not inside though, she’s picking up little insecurities but nothing they can take advantage of or expose to bring them down. Mercedes tells Brittany to go after Puck, but she’s not sure she wants to face the wrath of Santana Lopez just yet, and going after Finn is impossible when he only has eyes for Quinn.
By the time half the year has gone passed, she finds herself integrated enough to predict responses, and to read their looks. She’s becomes ‘Brittany the Cheerio,’ she’s never seen without either Quinn or Santana, and she finds less time to rat them out to Rachel and spends more time sympathising with them about the gruelling regime Coach has them on, amongst other things. This is when Rachel steps plans up, she, herself, is going to entice Finn away from Quinn. The plot is laughable, but then suddenly the three top Cheerios are trying out for Glee club, a club which Sylvester needs to be brought down, and that Finn has joined for some inexplicable reason and spends his time dueting with Berry, she’s started calling her Berry now because that’s what Quinn and Santana do.
While Quinn is wrapped up in all the Finngate drama, Brittany finds herself alone with Santana more often, and she prefers alone Santana to Santana with Quinn, and she also prefers out of school Santana to in school Santana. Seeing Santana out of school and minus Quinn is like seeing a bird take flight, or something that sounds less pretentious. Santana’s was a little frosty to begin with, she glared, she was stone-faced, she bit her tongue from retorting whenever Brittany verged on the crazy side of things; but for some reason she never mocked her, Brittany guesses there’s a sense of camaraderie or loyalty like Santana has with Quinn, she’ll face up to her, throw insults and argue like her life depends on it, but ultimately she backs her up, laughs with her and reassures her about things i.e. mainly Berry’s inability to take Finn away from her. They’re like the three musketeers, only it’s slowly morphing through stages: Quinn-Santana, Brittany became Quinn-Santana-Brittany, and now Quinn, Santana-Brittany. She’s not sure when the transition started, she can point at moments, memories of mutual looks as Quinn barks commands, and of whispered bitching, of exhausting practices and shared water bottles, of hurried copying of homework and unguarded papers during tests. One time Quinn snaps at her, badly goes for her jugular, spouting off everything that Brittany knows most of the school think about her, that’s she’s a mindless slut and all the rest, it’s what she wants them to think, but at the same time it’s exactly what she is, she doesn’t mind it, but it hurts coming from her friend (though she should really stop thinking about Quinn as her friend, she’s the enemy), especially when it’s said with such venom, the malice distorting that sweet face, eyes narrow and burning with hate, lips curled and snarling, it’s not something Brittany likes to see, and she especially doesn’t like to see it close up, which is exactly what happens when Quinn gets up in her face. This is when Brittany knows Santana has changed alliance.
‘Fuck Quinn, back off.’
‘Stay out of this Santana, it’s got nothing do with you.’
‘It’s got plenty to do with me. Now back off.’
‘What, are you going to go loco Lopez on me?’
‘I don’t wanna, but you’re way outta line. Just cool off, Britt hasn’t done anything.’
Quinn glares at Brittany, shoves past Santana on the way out of the changing rooms, and apologises for her behaviour a couple of hours later, Santana nods at Quinn once.
‘You ok, Britt? She doesn’t mean it, she’s just deflecting rage about Finn and Berry, are you crying?’
‘No, no…I’m fine.’
Santana looks at her quietly, her eyes are big, unguarded, and her eyebrows are raised in concern, but she alters it after a moment, taking Brittany’s little finger in her own, bumping shoulders, and leading them out into the corridor.
It only takes a couple of weeks after that incident for Brittany to realise she likes life behind enemy lines. Quinn isn’t so bad, but Santana is no where near the fierce anti-social terrorist that most of the school think she is, in fact she’s the complete opposite whenever it’s just her and Brittany. They end up spending most evenings together, except for Wednesdays and Saturdays which are the days where Santana pays booty calls to Puck, although usually it ends up just being Wednesdays, as Brittany hijacks Santana’s Saturdays relatively easily: a new film, a band’s playing, it’s roller disco night; she pretends it’s part of the plan, if Santana doesn’t have Puck her rep goes down, but really Brittany’s sure she does it because she can’t get enough of her time spent with Santana. It surprises her that Santana would rather do things with her then with Puck, and usually on a Wednesday Santana will spend the majority of the evening with Brittany, not heading round Puck’s until gone 10, her eyes begging Brittany to ask her to stay instead, but only for a few seconds before they’re back to normal.
Over the holidays Santana practically lives with Brittany, and there’s no reason for Brittany to keep up her act; sometimes she lets things slip, they’ll be doing homework and she doesn’t ask Santana for help, she’ll finish first, Santana eying the page quizzically before a little smile settles itself on her lips. Sometimes they’ll be clearing out Brittany’s room and come across hockey gear, spelling bee awards, and snippets of her hidden self and Santana just jokes around, wearing the hockey helmet and getting Brittany to spell ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ repeatedly to see if she slips up. Brittany is just Brittany around Santana, not Brittany the Cheerio, or Brittany the mole in ‘mission reform McKinley’, and Brittany’s pretty sure Santana is just Santana around her too.
It’s at the end of summer that Brittany gets the dirt that would destroy Santana, and implement Quinn enough to question her authority. It’s also dirt that would involve Brittany, and if anyone ever found out, Brittany would vigorously uphold that it’s not dirt at all, if anything it’s the best thing that’s happened to her, which is exactly the reason that no one can find out, not just yet anyway, as that would mean it would end, and that’s definitely the reason why she leaves it out of any reports she feeds back to Berry. They’re at Santana’s when it happens, they’re hot, it’s boiling outside, and the glare of the sun makes Brittany squint, but not enough that Santana is unfocused. They’re so hot that they abandon attempts to tan altogether and instead opt for the air conditioned rooms of Santana’s house. They’re lying on the floor, because hot air rises, backs still wet from sweat, too tired to talk, but they’re cooling off now. Santana shivers with the change of temperature, rows of goosebumps appear on her arms, her hair standing on end, and Brittany can’t resist extending her hand and letting them tickle it. Santana turns her head to look at Brittany’s actions, a smile playing about her features, as she shivers again. Brittany laughs a little at the second shiver, and traces an index finger along the side of Santana’s body, following the line from her hips, in at her waist, and stopping short at the beginning of Santana’s bikini top. Santana shivers again, but it’s got nothing to do with the temperature, her eyes flick up to Brittany’s who is leaning forwards on her side, glancing at her lips before searching blue eyes again. Brittany does it, the thing which she didn’t even realise she wanted to do, but once she’s kissing Santana it is more than clear that she doesn’t want to stop doing it. Santana’s not slow to respond, she’s quick off the mark with everything, and for some reason it feels like it’s no surprise to her, as if she’d just been passing time until Brittany kissed her. Brittany moves back to take in Santana’s reaction; her eyes are darker, there’s a pinkish glow to her cheeks, her lips parted slightly as she breathes out in hurried gasps. Brittany can’t tell if she’s happy, or worried, but she can still feel Santana’s hand in hair, it’s still but firm, and so Brittany smiles coyly and Santana smirks. Brittany lies on her back again but realigns herself so that her head rests on Santana’s stomach, Santana’s hand hovers above her briefly before it moves itself to play in blonde hair and tickle the tops of ears.
When Quinn falls pregnant and Finn starts to date Rachel, Brittany jumps at the opportunity; it’s her way out of all the scheming. Rachel expects her to abandon Santana, leave her alone at the top, and join the people ‘who were there for her from the start.’ They never knew her though, just used her as a tool to take down Quinn; and now she’s fallen, Brittany’s a free agent, although in reality she’s very much Santana’s, but Berry doesn’t have to know that.
It’s becomes standard practice to kiss Santana, and more than just kissing, and Brittany knows she’s turned traitor, because that is the epitome of fraternizing with the enemy. It’s like nothing has changed between them though, not to Quinn, or Berry, or Puck, but to Brittany everything has. Every touch is charged, every look is suggestive, they’re speaking in code, and suddenly she finds herself on an undercover mission all over again. This time it’s different; she’s got a partner who she’s completely invested in.