LbN: NO idea where this came from. I literally woke up last night and had Brittany's poem stuck in my head. I'm sure my housemates think I'm a nutter, laughing by myself at two in the morning... Anyway, happy reading!

Whenever Santana explained their relationship, she tried to make it as concise as humanly possible. People tended to understand better that way.

"First it was me and Britts. Then Q nabbed herself our tiny star. Then Rach and Britts got so tired of me and Q sniping at each other, they granted us dispensation to fuck the sexual tension out of each other. Rach and Britts had an epic bromance going that blossomed into twoo wuv pretty quickly after Q and I boned. Then the tiny star pouted at me one too many times and Q went all Protective!Fabray with Britts one day. Rest is history."

And so it was. And somehow, it worked pretty well. They all got along, loved each other fiercely, and supported each other's careers. Rachel was already doing off-Broadway shows, and Santana had a steady gig at a jazz club. Quinn was a bright spot on the amateur writers' circuit, and Brittany was teaching dance classes. They'd grown up, and were really becoming a family.

Still, sometimes Brittany had to put everyone in timeout. This morning was shaping up to be one of those times.

"Whatever has that skillet done to you, Santana?" Quinn asked, amused.

"What did those poor baby chickens do to deserve being so viciously scrambled?" Rachel asked.

"Not in the mood this morning, you two," Santana snapped.

"I could get you in the mood," Quinn said.

Santana fumed and scooped the eggs out onto a plate. She proceeded to cover them in cheese.


"I want real food!"

"I resent that!"

"Resent away. I'm gonna eats my eggs and waffles."

"That's all you'll be eating if you keep yelling at Rachel," Quinn muttered, trying to contain her grin.

"Okay," Brittany said, stepping in. "Rachel goes to her room to ruminate Santana's reasonable resistance to the vegan regimen. Santana's going to her room to soothe her storming soul and sup. Quinn…you're horny and the bad timing is pissing everyone off. Go to your room too."

"I never should have signed you up for that poetry class," Santana muttered.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "There once were three New York stars bright/who picked arguments only for spite/They're driving me crazy/'Cause they're acting like babies/And I'm about to go ALL Lima Heights."

Santana nearly dropped her eggs.

Quinn did drop her toast.

Rachel just stared.

I should never have signed her up for that poetry class, Santana thought. She kissed Brittany meekly on the cheek and wandered back to her room, as did the other two.

Brittany smiled and sat down to enjoy her bagel and fruit.