I'm so addicted to Sebtana, it's ridiculous! I know most the fanfics found here start off right after Smooth Criminal and I wanted to do that too, without making it boring and repetitive. Hopefully, this is something different-ish. Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

o n e .

Tick tock.

Was it just her, or was the room unbelievably warm that day? Why was her throat all dry and her lips all numb? Her dark brown eyes stared straight ahead at the blank stained wall, but she wasn't really seeing anything. She was lost in deep thought. Deep, panicky thought.

Tick tock.

Her fingers jumped to an itch on her neck, near her jaw line. She felt that spot throbbing beneath her skin, a horrid reminder.

Tick tock.

The only thing she could hear was the blood pumping in her ears. Somewhere in the distant, Berryzilla's voice rang throughout the room, dulled murmurs around her. And that stupid giant clock with its incessant ticking and tocking.

Tick tock.

"Boo, are you okay?"

Santana's eyes immediately flew to the tall blonde on her right. Brittany looked at her girlfriend in half worry and half curiosity. But the Latina remained silent, her lips slightly apart and her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. To her, Brittany's bright blue eyes looked accusing and for some goddamn reason, her brain still couldn't function properly to form a coherent sentence.

"Santana?"

It was Artie's voice now. She slowly pulled away to look down at the boy. "Yeah?" Her voice sounded faint. It was only when Berryzilla called her out that she realized all eyes were on her, expectant and curious. Clearing her throat and forcing herself to regain her composure, she demanded in her typical Auntie Snix tone, "The hell are you guys looking at?"

"Weren't you listening?" Rachel sighed. "We were talking about doing a meet-up with the Warblers. A civil one, with no violence."

"Why?" Santana hissed, a little bit too quickly and too harshly.

"Well, since you've failed to get the confession that we needed, we've decided that this needs to end one way or another. So, we'll meet up with them and force them into an agreement. They should realize the magnitude of their actions. This MJ feud has caused too much problems, one of those problems being an injured Blaine needing surgery. So, none of us will do MJ, then." The petite girl sighed again. "But it's alright, though, I understand you did your best. I guess Sebastian just isn't one of those villains who would end up exposing their plans and admitting their crimes at the last minute."

Tick tock.

"Right. Do all of us really have to go? I... kind of have… plans." Santana replied rather lamely.

"We need to stand united and show them they can't break us! So, yes, you have to be there."

"Sure. Whatever. Can't wait to see that Twink again to kick his ass." the Cheerio grabbed her stuff quickly, ignoring the shrill 'no violence!' from Rachel. "I got to go, just remembered something came up. Have fun, losers." She was about to head out the door before she stopped and hesitantly turned to face Brittany. "I'll call you tonight." A quick peck on the cheek, and she was out the door.

Tick tock.

As she rushed out the choir room, her fingers immediately jumped back to that soft spot on her neck.

A few hours earlier.

This was actually a very smart plan. It was a no-brainer, really, as shown in so many movies. Placing a tape recorder to her under-boob and forcing the confession out of Sebastian wasn't all that original, but it was a smart plan nonetheless. Because, you see, Sebastian Smythe embodied the typical cheesy movie villain, which meant he was predictable. Santana was positive that by the end of her confrontation, she would have him admitting to tampering with the slushie on tape and his ass will be thrown out of school.

Making last-minute checks on her appearance in the mirror, she placed a fedora on her head to complete her badass look. Hey, there was no reason not to dress up and she was determined to enter and leave Dalton in style.

She had gotten the jerk's number from Blaine and had texted him to meet up. She could afford to skip a couple of classes for this. The takedown was going to be delicious.

"Hey, Andrew McCarthy," she called out as she stormed into the room the same time the Warblers did from the opposite direction. Oh, why wasn't she surprised the whole gang was there? Sebastian talked big, but he couldn't meet her one to one? But she supposed she understood; she was Santana freaking Lopez after all, of course he'd want to have his buddies there to back him up. "Don't know if you've heard, but Blaine may lose an eye. The same Blaine who was just besties with most of you not four months ago."

"Wait, are you serious?" said a boy behind Sebastian. He looked genuinely worried. Good. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Well, sure, if he doesn't care about singing three dimensions."

The ringleader looked annoyed. "Trent, I got this." He turned back to Santana with an uncaring look. "Bummer about Blaine. He was pretty. He shouldn't have gotten in the way, that slushie was meant for Kurt."

She rolled her eyes. "You may look like the villain out of a cheesy `80's high school movie, but you should know that I am fully prepared to go all Danny LaRusso on your ass." At that, he smirked. She hated his smirk. It was so patronizing and annoying, she couldn't wait to smack it off his face. "Just admit that you put something in that slushie. What was it, huh? Glass? Asphalt?"

"Red dye #6."

Fine. So he wanted to play it the hard way then. "You're a liar."

He looked amused as he turned around to face his goons. "She questioned my honor." When he turned back to face the feisty girl, there was a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes. "I demand satisfaction in Warbler tradition."

Seriously? She raised her eyebrows. "You want to have a duel?" She turned around and requested the cellists to stay.

"Everyone else clear out, I don't want you to see me make a girl cry."

"Let's just keep this on point." she said haughtily before turning around and making her way over to the mess of chairs. Did he really think he was going to make her cry? If anything, it would be the other way around.

As the music started, an indecipherable look crossed his face. She didn't have time to try to see what it was before he placed back the look of cockiness he so expertly wore. She watched, unimpressed, as he jumped into the first verse. He weaved through the chairs until he reached her and when he did, he lowered his lips to her ears, his hot breath prickling on her skin. She took it as a challenge and got up, jumping into the pre-chorus with him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but notice how well their voices matched, especially for a song such as this one. Hey, if he wasn't such an asshole, she would have loved to have duets with him.

They continued singing while dancing between the chairs. It started to become a chase, a game of cat and mouse. After a few moments, it unsettled her to see the look on Sebastian's face, like a lion stalking its prey. She moved further away from him, but he chased after her.

"You've been hit by,"

"You've been struck by,"

"A smooth criminal!"

They were staring each other down, their bodies so close to each other that she could feel his breath on her skin. She backed away and put as much distance as she could from him. As she walked, she continued to take glances at him. There was something about this that stirred something in her. It was like when she and Brittany would have slumber parties and they'd play a far more mature game of hide and seek. It sparked an adrenaline rush, this whole predator-prey thing. And this song, this song was perfect.

They made eye contact more than a few times. His green ones unbelievably intense and her brown ones… well, she didn't even know what she must have looked like right now. Some part of her was actually enjoying this, anticipating what was going to happen next.

And their voices clashed again, the music growing faster.

"I don't know," she sang.

At this point, she could already feel the tension in the room. They circled each other, weaving through the chairs again. Their voices fought for dominance. She roughly pushed a chair out of her way and made her way towards him, driven by something she couldn't quite decipher. They got closer to each other and the heat was on, the last notes ringing in the air.

"You've been hit by,"

"You've been struck by,"

"A smooth criminal!"

When the music ended, they were mere inches from each other, both panting heavily. It took her awhile but then it slowly started to dawn on her. That inexplicable feeling that stirred in her while they were singing, that one thing she couldn't place her finger on then. She was actually turned on. The realization shocked her and it took time for her brain to properly process it. Now that she knew what it was, there was no doubt the sexual tension was hanging in the air around them. She could only assume he felt the same way because he was still unmoving, intense fiery eyes staring into her own.

"Sebastian?" one of the cellists said.

"Enough," his voice sounded thick and rough. He cleared his throat and turned to stare at them. "That's all, thanks. You can go now."

It was more of a demand than a polite request.

While he spoke and while the cellists packed up their things, Santana took the opportunity to take multiple steps back. She turned her back to him and her face immediately contorted into disbelief. What the hell? No way in hell that was 'sexual tension'. No way at all. He was Sebastian Smythe, after all. He was gay and she was a lesbian, so obviously whatever she thought she felt was just… well, not what she thought it was.

Shaking her head and inwardly laughing at her own stupidity, she composed herself and turned back to face him. She was met with his green eyes again and it caused her to freeze for just a millisecond. He looked confused so she decided it was up to her to break the silence.

"I was better," she raised her chin and pulled off an unimpressed look.

She could see it took him a few moments to think of a proper reaction and when he did, he placed back his stupid smirk. "You weren't even close."

"I was better," she snarled. "Now tell me what you put in that slushie."

He rolled his eyes. "You're still on that?"

She stormed over to him angrily. "Yes. That's why I came here." Somewhere in the back of her mind, it unsettled her to think that she was mostly saying that more as a reminder to herself.

They were close to each other again. Sebastian's smirk had gone slightly stiff. His gaze was once more intense. "Nothing."

"Liar." Her voice came out raspier than she had expected it to.

They continued the stare contest for a few more moments. Santana's mind was a mess; a part of it was acknowledging the existence of that attraction again, another part of it was scolding that part for thinking such a messed up thought, the other was trying to figure out what Sebastian was thinking while that one little, last part of her mind decided that as much of an asshole that Twink was, he was actually good-looking.

Wait. What?

Fuck.

She forced herself to pull away again. "You know what? Whatever Twink, I'm out of here. You and your little gay boys can rot and die." Not her best line, she had to admit, but whatever it took to get away from him. Being around that meerkat-faced jerk was messing up her brain. Just before she left the room, she turned and saw that he was still staring at her, his eyes squinted in confusion.

The more space she put between herself and him, she felt more relieved but more confused. Her legs were taking her way too fast for her to walk in those heels. When she saw the doors to the car park, she felt glad and forced herself to move faster. She couldn't wait to get back to McKinley, even though she didn't get what she went there to get. Just when she was about to reach the doors, she heard hurried footsteps coming up behind her and heard the voice of Sebastian Smythe calling out her name.

She inwardly cursed and turned around to face him. "What is it now, Smythe?"

"I want to know something." He slowed down as he neared her.

"What?"

"I'm curious." There was an odd determination in his eyes and when he finally reached her, he placed a hand on the back of her head and crashed his lips onto hers.

She was frozen shocked, but she didn't move away. Her brain malfunctioned and she didn't know what to do. Sure, there was that voice screaming at her to push him off of her and kick him in the balls, but it was overwhelmed by a louder voice that actually liked what was going on. It was curiosity. She wasn't supposed to be attracted to men – she had gone through hell to accept that fact and establish herself as a lesbian – and now here she was, kissing a man. A gay man. Who kissed her first.

Curiosity.

She was curious why his warm lips moving against hers sent more tingles down her spine than when Brittany kissed her. She was curious why she was enjoying the feel of his body pressed up against hers, even if it was the body of a man. She was curious why all of a sudden, he seemed like the most attractive being on Earth. Curious, curious, curious.

He slid his tongue against her lower lip and she opened her mouth to allow entry. Just like when they were singing, they fought for dominance. Their tongues clashing each other, each of them still not wanting to lose. When they finally realized the importance of air, they pulled apart but Sebastian hastily replaced his lips on her neck. It moved until it found that single weak spot she had just beneath her jaw line.

He actually found it.

And she actually accidentally let out a sigh.

The things he was doing to her right now, they were so much different from what Brittany usually did and… and… Brittany. Her eyes were wide open she roughly shoved him off of her.

"What do you think you're doing?" she practically yelled.

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow. "A little too late for that response, don't you think?"

She glared incredulously at his self-satisfied face, smudged with her lipstick. "Touch me again and you're dead, Twink." She hissed before turning around and storming back to her car.

And now she had to go back to McKinley with his scent all over her, with her mind a mess and with only one thing on her mind; Brittany. If she ever thought Sebastian was predictable, she no longer did now. Guilt washed over her when she saw the hickey he gave her. She covered it up with her mess of black hair and hoped no one notices it.