Santana has to have the most easily distracted mind.

Or maybe she just isn't that into this.

As she kisses her latest football player hook-up, who she also happens to be straddling in the backseat of his car, she wonders how Brittany's date is going. She wonders if Brittany is doing exactly what she is doing right now. Ugh, she hopes not. She doesn't like the image of yucky guy hands all over Brittany.

Is it weird that she thinks that?

But Brittany's her best friend. She's supposed to be that protective, right?

Besides, Brittany doesn't have much luck with guys. Out of all the jerks she could choose, she somehow finds the jerkiest ones. So, as her best friend, Santana should be worried. Because that is obviously completely normal behavior for a best friend.

"God, you're so fucking hot, Santana," the guy moans.

"I know," Santana mumbles into the kiss.

He pulls off his shirt and is just about to do the same to Santana when her phone vibrates. "Hands off," Santana warns. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and reads her new text message.

Brittany: Please come over, San.

Santana's sort of glad actually. She's getting sick of this guy anyway. "I have to go," she says.

He groans. She just rolls her eyes and starts fixing her hair. She gets off his lap and hops out of the car, not even giving him one last glance.

"I'll call you!" he yells after her.

"Please don't!" she calls back.


The walk to Brittany's house doesn't take long. Everything's basically within walking distance in Lima anyway. When Santana's at Brittany's door, she takes out her phone to text her. It's kind of late to ring the doorbell.

Within seconds, the door's flung open, and Santana's so used to Brittany's spontaneity she doesn't even flinch when Brittany pops out of nowhere.

"Hey, Britt," she says with a gentle smile.

Brittany sighs, grabbing Santana's hand and pulling her inside the house. "You're right, San. He was a jerk."

Santana just tightens her grip on Brittany's hand.

They walk up to Brittany's room, and Santana automatically flops onto Brittany's bed. Brittany, on the other hand, crawls under her bed to pull out a bottle of tequila. Then she climbs onto the bed as well and takes a swig from the bottle.

"Brittany, don't."

Brittany looks over at Santana sadly. She takes another swig.

"Brittany."

"What?"

Santana peels Brittany's fingers off the bottle and pulls the bottle from Brittany's hands. "Stop drinking."

"Why?"

"Because this happens all the time. A stupid boy messes with you, and you drink." Santana turns her body to face Brittany, who's sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I thought he was going to be different."

Santana rolls her eyes as she places the bottle on Brittany's bedside table. "You say that every time, Britts."

"Because, every time, I think I've found the right guy!"

"Well, you clearly have awful taste in guys."

"Josh wasn't so bad, was he?"

Santana grimaces. "Uh, yeah, he was."

"Your standards are just too high, Santana."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. No one can live up to them."

"Please."

"I bet even you couldn't live up to them if you were a guy."

"Hold up." Santana raises her hand in objection. "I'd make a better guy than any of the ones you've hooked up with."

Brittany arches her eyebrow challengingly. "I don't know about that."

"Is that a challenge?" Santana asks, squinting her eyes.

Brittany smirks as she watches Santana's competitive nature take over. "I didn't say that, Santana."

"But you implied it." Santana crosses her arms over her chest. "You know, if I were a guy, you'd fall head over heels for me."

Brittany snorts. "Getting a little full of ourselves, don't you think?"

Santana purses her lips. "Ten days."

"What?"

"Give me ten days, and you'd fall in love with me."

"You're crazy."

Santana's eyes twinkle. "Are you backing down already?"

Brittany turns all the way around to face Santana. "Of course not," she says firmly. "Fine," Brittany adds with a new wave of confidence, "whoever loses has to pay for an all-you-can-eat dinner at Breadstix."

Santana smirks. Brittany couldn't have come up with a better incentive for her. "Good."

"Good."

"I'll come pick you up at seven tomorrow."

"What?"

"You heard me. Wear a dress, too. You know, whatever you do when you go on a date."

Brittany grins. "We're going on a date?"

"That's what you do with guys, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah."

"Exactly."


"Hello, Santana."

"Hey, Mrs. Pierce," Santana chirps. The only adults she ever treats with respect are Brittany's parents.

"Well, don't you look nice today?"

Santana glances at her attire sheepishly. Just as she told Brittany to do, she wore a nice dress and her highest heels (Brittany's tall, okay?). She even curled her hair. Man, the lengths she would go to win a bet. "We're going on a date," she explains to Mrs. Pierce.

Mrs. Pierce furrows her eyebrows before chuckling and waving her hand dismissively. While the situation would strike the mother of any average teenage girl as unusual, Mrs. Pierce knows better. Santana and Brittany have been inseparable all their lives. What's a date when the two have already vowed eternal love over a decade ago in their adorable little white dresses? "You girls are so silly," Mrs. Pierce says.

Santana is about to clarify the seriousness of the situation—anything involving breadsticks is a matter of life and death, after all—when she hears the clicking of heels slowly approaching.

Mrs. Pierce glances up from the door and smiles. In a moment, Brittany appears beside her mother, and Santana can't help but grin like an idiot. Brittany's always looked so much like her mom. It only means that she will age well.

"You two have fun now, alright?" Mrs. Pierce says. "And don't bring her home too late," she tells Santana with a jokingly stern face, having decided to join their little game.

Santana nods with a wide smile. "Yes, ma'am."

Mrs. Pierce gives them one last drawn-out look before she heads back into the kitchen, shaking her head but smiling at the frankly endearing situation. Yes, in her mind, they are still the cutest little girls playing dress up, only now they're much taller…and have boobs.

"My mom's kinda creepy sometimes," Brittany says as she watches her mom walk away with a small smile on her lips.

Santana ignores the comment completely. "You look beautiful, Brittany," she says instead, taking in the long blonde hair, the formfitting dress…and oh, my God, are those abs that you can see through her dress?

Brittany raises an eyebrow. "Has the game, like, started already?"

Santana quickly breaks from her trance. "What?"

Brittany shoots her a weird look but makes nothing more of it. Santana's been acting strangely a lot recently.

"I mean," Santana begins, finding words difficult to say, "yeah. Of course the game's started."

"Well, then," Brittany says with a smile, "thank you. You look beautiful, too."

Santana nods in agreement. "I know."

Brittany rolls her eyes but giggles despite herself. "Is this your idea of being charming?"

Santana ponders the question for a moment. "Well, honesty is charming."

"Santana."

"Alright, alright, but you know what is charming?"

"What?"

Santana reveals a bouquet of roses from behind her back and displays them with a triumphant smile.

Brittany's eyes light up at Santana's unexpected thoughtfulness, and she lowers her nose to the flowers, inhaling that sweet scent. "Are these for me?"

"For you and no one else."

Brittany smirks. "Well, well, well, would you look at that swag?"

"You're falling, Brittany," Santana points out matter-of-factly. "You're falling hard."


Author's Note: Where is the title from, and where's the reference to a Brittany line from the show? First reviewer to answer both questions correctly wins. Go! I'll announce the winner in my next update. :D