Disclaimer: Don't own Glee.

A/N: Not my usual fandom, but I really enjoyed the Brittany and Becky scene and wanted to write something about them. Hopefully the insensitivity of the characters is balanced out in the end; I wanted to keep it in line with how people on the show tended to act before they learned their lesson.

Brittany knew that people thought she was just another dumb blonde Cheerio, but she didn't let that bother her. She knew that she could be smart when it mattered. In fact, she was pretty sure she was way smarter that the pregnant, miserable Quinn or brittle, bitter Santana. And if she wasn't more intelligent than they were, at least she was happier.

She understood that being a Cheerio was an honor. People looked up to them because they were part of the squad, part of something great. And while Santana and Quinn thought that meant that they could be icy bitches who made their fellow students' lives miserable, Brittany knew that being a Cheerio was more than that. She knew that when she put on that short, pleated skirt it was like she had put on Superman's cape, and not just because they were both a fabulous shade of red. In her Cheerio uniform she possessed a power that could be used for good or evil; a smile or a hello from her could make or break someone's day.

Becky taught her that.

She hadn't expected a life-altering lesson the first day of sophomore algebra. She hadn't even expected to learn any math. She found numbers to be confusing.

As Brittany walked in the classroom and sat down, she sort of registered that the blond girl with glasses in the seat next to her was different; she could never remember if she was supposed to say handicapped or disabled or special. Whatever she was called, the girl was of no interest to her. All she wanted to do was check out the guys in the class to see if there were any worth her time. At the practices before school started, Quinn had been clear that once you were a Cheerio you had to have higher standards. She was pretty sure that the cute baseball player sitting behind her would make the cut because he was on a varsity team and a couple of girls on the squad had dated him already.

Turning in her seat, she gave the boy her best smile and said hello. He grinned back at her and leaned in closer. She was just about to turn on the charm when she heard the girl next to her ask, "Are you a real cheerleader?"

At least Brittany was pretty sure that was what she said. It was sort of hard to figure out what she was saying – it was almost like the girl was talking with a mouth full of marbles. Maybe her braces were new; Brittnay's cousin always had a hard time talking after a visit to the orthodontist.

Brittany turned, smiled at her and nodded before focusing her attention back to Rob (or Ron – she wasn't very good with names). She really wished that jocks wore their jerseys to school so she could just read their names off the back of their shirts. It would make her life much easier. Flirting worked better when you got the name right.

"That's so cool!" An enthusiastic voice announced.

Apparently, the girl wasn't done yet. Brittany turned back to her neighbor and said, "Thanks."

Holding out her hand, the small blond introduced herself, "My name is Becky. I've never talked to a cheerleader before."

She really wanted to blow the girl off and get back to flirting with the hot guy. But even though Brittany was distracted, she noticed that Becky's face was lit up with excitement and her eyes shone with adoration. You would have thought she had just met a celebrity instead of a fellow student who struggled to keep a C average.

"I'm Brittany." She smiled as she shook the other girl's hand. "It's nice to meet you."

And then she turned back around and put a hand on Rob/Ron's arm, trying to figure out the best way to let him know that Chastity Club or not, he was guaranteed to get to third base if he asked her out. Or at least she thought it was third base; the baseball metaphor always confused her. She had just fluttered her eyelashes and started to lean in towards him when she heard, "Your clothes are so pretty. I love red!"

As Brittany turned to respond, Rob, obviously frustrated at the interruptions, snapped, "Shut it freak. She doesn't want to talk to you."

And she watched Becky's face fall and her eyes well up with tears. At that moment, Brittany knew she had a choice. She could turn back around and pretend nothing had happened, which would be a sure way to have a date for Friday night, or she could stand up for the crushed girl sitting next to her who obviously wasn't going to stand up for herself. She hesitated for a moment before deciding that the guy was a Lima loser who wasn't worth her time. Plus, she'd heard from Santana that he was a slobberer.

"Don't talk for me," Brittany said, giving Rob a cold, hard look that she hoped was like the one Quinn used to make people cower and obey. She turned and gave Becky a huge Cheerio smile. "Thanks. I really like your shirt."

And that was when the magic happened - when Brittany realized that she held the power to make people's day brighter. Her words, her generic compliment, stopped the tears and put a beautiful, watery smile on Becky's face.

"It's my favorite," Becky replied, tilting her head to the side as she grinned.

"I can see why. That color pink looks great on you." Brittany watched as the sparkle came back to Becky's eyes.

Before they could say anything else, the teacher began calling roll. But it was enough. Those few sentences had given Brittany a sense of who she could be. She wanted to be a Cheerio, but not one like Quinn or Santana; she wanted to be a super-Cheerio who could sweep in and save the day with her perky smile and a friendly greeting.

And she wanted to be Becky's friend.

She was pretty sure that picking Becky over Rob was a sign of her brilliance because not only was Becky a great friend, but it turned out she was pretty good at math and didn't mind sharing her answers with Brittany.

And Rob gave the next girl he dated gonorrhea.