Orange Jello
by Creedog VanDrey

Category: Glee
Genre: Humor
Rating: T for adult situations
Language: English
Summary: Brittany's antics make Santana mess up a cheer routine. Sue isn't happy.
Spoilers: Assumes casual knowledge up through promotional information about Season 2.

A/N: To counteract the bottomless pit of tragedy that was "No Escape," I'm making up for it with a lot of light comedy.


Orange Jello

Santana had just finished tying her sneakers for cheer practice when Brittany approached her in the deserted locker room and pressed her against the wall, holding her arms up over her head. She leaned in very close and whispered in Santana's ear.

"Guess what I had for lunch," she sing-songed.

Santana replied flatly, "I don't have to guess, Brittany. We eat together. You forgot your lunch again, so you ate one of the spicy chicken tacos my mom packed for me. And the cherries out of my fruit salad. And, when you thought I wasn't looking, some of the pineapples, which you know are my favorite," she accused.

"You didn't say anything," she pointed out.

Santana didn't reply. Brittany got a reaction, though, by sliding her hands down Santana's side.

"Practice starts in five minutes," Santana warned.

"You forgot; I also had orange jello."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I keep telling you. Orange jello is not an aphrodisiac."

Brittany's fingers roamed the hem of Santana's skirt. "I have to disagree."

"Brittany," Santana protested before the girl's hand moved further down. "Okay, but we are not going to be late for practice."

"Mm-hmm," Brittany agreed, sliding her tongue up Santana's arm.

: : :

Brittany and Santana made it to practice on time with ten seconds to spare.

Unfortunately for Santana, Coach Sylvester began the practice with a particularly trying routine that involved Santana being thrust up into an elevator lift during the first verse of the song. There was no way to mask the quivering of her knees and Santana held no illusions that the coach might have missed her stumble. Sue didn't call her out on it, instead choosing to single out Kurt for butchering Michael Jackson's "Smooth Criminal."

As she dreaded, Coach called her into her office at the end of practice. Brittany locked eyes with her. Santana didn't do anything to indicate she was angry with Brittany, but her best friend still sent her an apologetic look as she made her death march to the coach's office.

Across from Sue, Santana sat perfectly poised with her chin held high, revealing no emotion to the Cheerios coach.

Sue pulled off her glasses and laid down the stack of papers she was pretending to read. "I couldn't help but notice you seemed a little weak-kneed out there, Lopez."

Due to her daily dishing out of insults, Santana was exceptional at thinking on her feet. "My apologies, Coach Sylvester, my hammies have been giving me trouble. I'll modify my workout routine to pay more attention to them."

Sue sat back in her chair, unimpressed, "No, no, I don't think that's the problem. I have a pretty good idea what it is, though."

Her face didn't falter, but Santana was convinced that her eyes gave her away.

"I noticed you and Brittany were the last ones out of the locker room today. Usually, you're one of the first. Quinn Fabray, to pick someone from random, was twenty minutes early today. She's trying to regain her spot as captain, and I have to say I'm impressed with her ambition."

Santana's face cracked, just a little bit.

"Santana, I have a pretty good idea about what you two were doing in my locker room."

Santana suppressed a gulp.

"The two of you are on Schuester's fruity little glee club. And, yes, I have revoked my fatwa on the club for the time being to take down larger beasts, but I couldn't help but notice that at last year's Regionals, you and especially your blond sidecar were nailing the dance routines, equal in skill to that you demonstrate with my own. And I seem to recall that during their swan song, I heard the tiniest bit of a solo from a voice that I'm used to only hearing cry out tired platitudes of false encouragement to our uncoordinated troop of helmeted gorillas. Your tongue is getting you into trouble."

"Ma'am?"

"In the locker room today, were you or were you not discussing glee with Brittany, or Azathtoth forbid, singing together in my locker room?"

Santana bowed her head, as if in shame, but really to hide her relief. "We were discussing this week's glee assignment," she confessed.

"You disappoint me, Santana. You know what this revelation tells me?"

Santana did not know.

"It means that I have Cheerios that are more invested in glee than I would like. And after some serious thought, which I agonized over for a full fifteen seconds, I've decided there's only one thing I can do..."

: : :

Brittany was pacing outside Sylvester's office when Santana walked out, her face blank with shock.

"Oh, no, it's my fault, isn't it?" Brittany cried, grabbing onto to the brunette's arm.

Santana looked up at Brittany and said, "Yeah, it is."

Brittany lowered her head in humility, so she was surprised when she found herself being pressed into lockers. Santana held Brittany's face in her hands and pressed their lips together forcefully. The kiss lasted a few seconds before Santana yanked herself away and started wandering in a tight circle, absorbed in thought. Brittany looked up and down the hall, something she expected Santana would be doing, but it appeared the mostly deserted halls hadn't taken notice of the pair.

"Santana, what happened? Did Coach kick you off?"

"She paired me up with Kurt."

"Huh?"

"She put me on vocals."

"What?"

Santana declared, "I'm singing. In Cheerios. She said that having a male and a female voice would open up a host of song possibilities. Since Kurt had the female voice covered and my voice is deep and smoky..."

"Rachel just says you're a contra-alpo..." Brittany muttered, before gingerly prompting, "You're happy about this."

"Yeah," Santana replied excitedly, nodding her head, "I like singing. A lot. And as much as I do enjoy doing the cheer routines, Coach is still a slave-driver and doing them gives me major calluses, so I have to use a pumice stone or my feet are a big turn-off..."

"I like feet," Brittany remarked.

"You're a dancer. Big surprise," Santana quipped with a smile. She pressed Brittany against the lockers again. Looking straight into the blonde's eyes, she stated, "Somebody is getting very lucky tonight."

Brittany frowned. "I hope it's not that new football player you were checking out, 'cause I kind of get the impression..."

"It's not him, Sweetie; I meant you," Santana corrected. Brittany flashed a bright smile. "And I was not checking him out," she added defensively.

"I'm so glad you're happy, Santana," Brittany remarked, "I thought you'd have been really mad that Quinn's probably going to get to be captain again 'cause I don't think Coach would let one of her singers be in charge."

Santana's smile disappeared in an instant.

"DUCK!" Brittany heard Santana scream, after the word had been processed by her brain.


A/N: I've got a couple more of these in the works. They're even more cracky.