A/N: Thank you very much to everyone for your kind words! I want to get this moving along nice and quick to start really digging into the longer, meatier Brittana chapters. I really appreciate all the follows and favorites, too. You all rock.
OkayBlueJay: Thank you! I'm personally a huge fan of personality swap and have written this particular version of Brittany elsewhere and I'm excited to finally put her into a story like this. I haven't touched much on Santana yet, but I hope I have the ability to do her justice also.
Anyhoo, here we go. Enjoy! .ox
Chapter 3: Just a Game
Puck had been insufferable since I told him I had to return the notebook. There was only so much of his obnoxious chuckling and amusement over me having to face the creepy nerd as I could take before I started ignoring him. It was surprisingly easier than it looked to just tone him out of my hearing. After all, I had a lot of practice during sex. He was annoyingly talkative all the time. Perhaps that was why we worked well as friends. I didn't really care too much to talk at all.
It wasn't always the case, though I tried to trick myself otherwise. Up until I was about seven or eight, I guess you could say that I was one of those stereotypical, bubbly blonde airheads. It was easy to see which version of myself was the better. Back then, I had no friends and was the subject of constant teasing. When everything changed, I was in charge. No one messed with me from then on.
"Are you even listening to me?"
Pucks' voice pulled me from my thoughts as though I didn't even realized I had completely blacked out. The cigarette in my hand had burned down to the filter, forcing me to drop it to the ground and stop on it with my heavy boot.
"Never do," I answered aloofly, flicking my hair over my shoulder and shooting him a little smirk to let him know that I didn't really mean any harm. Though we were close, he knew to be careful around me when I was in a certain mood. Luckily for him, now wasn't really one of those times. It was only first period, which we had decided to skip, so no one had pissed me off. At least, not yet.
"Asshole," He grumbled playfully, pulling out a small, cardboard packet from his pocket to offer me another cigarette. Accepting it, I placed it between my lips to light up. "Sugar's having a party tonight. Her parents are away again or some shit like that," He shrugged.
Sugar's father was some kind of diplomat, so there were a lot of long weekends where she was left alone with her enormous house. Compared to the rest of Lima, Ohio, it was basically mansion status. Whenever they went away, Sugar threw parties. At first, she used to be really apprehensive about letting people in and risking the place getting damaged, but the longer she spent around the skanks, the less she seemed to care. She was a whole lot more tolerable without the constant bitching and whining for sure.
"Cool. I'll pick up drinks," I replied with a shrug.
Parties for us were all part of the drill. We knew how to throw good ones, with the help of Sugars' place, and even the most idiotic people at school wanted to come along. I assumed it was because most other get-togethers were too selective or had rules about smoking or drinking. Honestly, why have a party when you have to follow rules? We always extended an open invite to anything we came up with, even if it meant having to deal with being in the same room with someone like Rachel Berry and her annoying as hell minions.
"Actually, I think you can do better than that… Wanna make it fun?" I knew by the tone in the mohawked boys' voice that he was going to offer up a challenge. We often made little bets for each other – whether it would be to steal the Cheerios' clothes when Sugar convinced them all to go skinny dipping in her pool, or to steal certain cell phones to mess around with peoples' relationships. I was all for a good bet and I never backed down. Not ever.
"Do your worst, 'cause I ain't backing out like you did last time. Pussy," I smirked, remembering back to when he backed off from seducing Rachel's right hand girl, Mercedes Jones, apparently fearful that she would cut off his dick when she found out it was all for a prank. Honestly, talk about playing it safe.
"I bet…" I could see his mind whirling behind his eyes, and as soon as his lips curled up into a nasty smirk, I knew he was going to make it a challenge. "I bet you can't get that lesbian nerd to come and get high."
Though Puck was a pretty predictable guy after all these years of knowing him – I really wasn't expecting that.
"You're fucking kidding me. She won't come," I scoffed, crossing my arms across my chest.
"I thought you could do anything? Badass Brittany fucking Pierce is gonna back off from a bet?"
"No," I grumbled, though the smirk on his lips seemed like he knew he already won.
I knew I had to win.
"I'll do it." At my acceptance, Pucks' eyebrow raised with peaked interest and he offered out his palm to me.
Shaking his hand, I knew what I had to do.
Finding Santana was actually a lot easier than I thought. I assumed, because I never really noticed her around before, that I would have to search up and down the entire school through the whole next period to find where the hell she was. After all, she didn't really stand out in a crowd. Her little boring sweater vests, lank hair and baggy jeans were the trademark of someone that tried to melt into the background.
However, as I turned to walk through the main hallway outside of homeroom, I saw her. Standing on her tiptoes, the small tanned girl was reaching into the back of her locker. Her face was tattooed with a pained expression as she exerted herself to find whatever she was looking for. Knowing her, it was probably a book, or another notebook full of creepy pictures of people she stalked.
"Lopez," I smirked, having crossed the length of the hallway to lurk beside Santana's locker. The way she jumped, hands clasping in the middle of her chest was enough of an indication to know I had taken her by surprise. Even though we had a single conversation that didn't begin or end in me beating her up (as usual, probably), it didn't mean she was comfortable. I could see the way she trembled in her shoes just with how close I was.
"I ain't gonna shove you in your locker. But it sure does look like it'd be fucking easy. You're a midget." I commented, letting my eyes run up and down her minuscule body. As well as being short in height, she was skinny and hunched with lack of confidence. She wasn't attractive in the slightest (not that I was into girls anyway), but acting like you gave a crap about yourself made a difference.
God, I sounded like Mr. fucking Schuester.
"We're friends, right?" I asked, the mere thought of saying that to someone like Santana putting a foul taste in my mouth. I didn't really do friends, and I especially didn't do friends with nerds. By the way her eyes widened and her mouth hung open in shock, I knew she hadn't really expected it either.
"Sugar is having a party tonight and I want you to come," I continued, not giving her the chance to speak even if she could find any words in that brain of hers. If her eyes weren't wide before, they definitely were now After all, it wasn't every day I personally invited someone lame to come along to one of our parties.
Actually, that never happened at all.
Santana was quiet for a long minute and I watched her mull the request over in her head. I wasn't surprised that she wasn't sure about it. I was an awful person and never had the best intentions for anyone else in my mind. In fact, I was only inviting her so I could get her high and win this stupid bet. If Santana was as obsessed with me as she was obsessed with drawing me, she should just say yes and make it easier for both of us.
"I...don't know," she replied, lowering her eyes and finding a book in her locker to hug close to her chest, as though she needed it for support. Her voice was soft and unsure, and I almost felt bad for her.
"Are you blowing me off?" I asked, my voice a little harder than I intended it to be. I asked nicely to begin with, and if she had to know that she had no choice in the matter, then so be it. "Well fuck me for being nice to you," I fake-scoffed, moving to turn around on my heel and storm away.
As if on cue, I felt her small hand grasp lightly at my elbow, stopping me from walking away from her. I didn't really know anything about the nerd, but I had an idea that she was one of those losers who hated hurting peoples' feelings – even if those people were nasty pieces of work.
"Wait," she blurted. Turning to face her, I could see the faint hint of a blush on her cheeks in response to her sudden outburst. "I…guess I can show up." I couldn't help the smirk that found my lips. I won.
"You're not going to hurt me… Are you?" Santana asked me, peering up at me from behind her lashes. God – I had honestly never met anyone as fragile. Kind of pathetic, really. After shaking my head slowly, I flipped my hair over my shoulder to prepare my escape.
"See you there at 9."
If only she knew.
I was late.
It wasn't exactly uncommon. If I wasn't at least half an hour late to the start of a party, I felt uncomfortable. Awkward starts weren't really my thing. I was more into the shady lighting, already consumed drinks and when people decided that dancing and smoking was better than making pleasantries with talking. That was lame.
Sugar's entrance hall was dark, music blasting from the speakers installed on the walls. The good thing about Sugar's parents being real rich meant that they had one of those super fancy speaker systems going on. It always made for a great dance party, and perhaps that's why the Cheerios always showed up, even though they hated us. After all, if they weren't invited, that would make it seemed like we gave even the smallest crap about them. Just ignoring them worked for me. Unless one needed a good punch in the jaw, anyway.
Glancing into the large living room, I could see the drink table –which Sugar had obviously had fully stocked by her house staff earlier. Kids from school were crowding around it, nursing beers and wine coolers. It seemed pretty quiet right now, with not many people dancing in the open rooms, but I was sure it would start to change when the brownies were brought out from the kitchens.
Joe, living up to his stoner persona, made the best pot brownies. As well as being able to get his hands of the best stash in Ohio, he was also a pretty great baker. Of course, I had only really had his brownies, but he did a better job with them than I ever could. I couldn't cook anything if my life depended on it – which really was a pain in the ass if you lived on your own. I knew, as soon as the party really got started, things were going to get a lot more interesting. Especially when Santana had her fill of brownies. That would wipe the smirk off Puckerman's face.
As though I was suddenly pushed into remembering I had a job to do for the evening, my eyes raked over the crowds. Santana would be easy to spot – after all, everyone who went out to these sorts of parties usually dressed to impress on some level. Santana probably hadn't ever heard of such a thing.
Sure enough, in the corner behind the grand staircases, I finally spotted her. She was dressed in a baggy superman shirt and tighter jeans than I could remember. At least she went without the sweater vest for a special occasion. Straightening my leather jacket, I felt a smirk creep onto my lips as I sauntered towards her. I might as well get started – she was already looking like she was about to bolt out of the door any second.
"Looking good, Lopez," I smirked, giving her the once over when I got close enough. Truthfully, she did look a little better than she usually did at school. Her hair was down, brushed smooth and framing her face. It was a shy attempt at effort but at least it was something. She covered and shielded the front of her chest with her arms, indicating that she was very uncomfortable in a party situation. Perhaps she hadn't ever been to one before. After all, the nerds didn't really seem like party animals. It was quite sad really, being sixteen or seventeen and never having lived outside of school.
As if to expand my point, her cheeks flushed a deep red as she digested my compliment, noticing the way my eyes scanned her body. Her face brightened with a shy smile, and I knew how I could get to her. There probably wasn't anyone else, besides this girls' family, who paid her any compliments. God, she was easy.
I wasn't into girls, to Puckermans' dismay, but I could pretend. Sleeping with so many people, faking so many orgasms and pretending to listen when I really didn't give a crap about anyone else's feelings fine-tuned me into a pretty good actress. If calling this nerd pretty and pretending I wanted more than I did meant that I could get what I wanted – then I was a winner.
We already established she thought I was hot. I would have questioned those thick glasses she wore if she didn't.
"Thank you," She almost whispered, bringing a finger to push her glasses up her nose, peering at me above the thick rim. So polite. I was going to have to get this over quickly before I had to satisfy the itch to kick her in ass a few times.
"C'mon. Hiding in the corner is lame," I shrugged aloofly, tilting my head for her to follow me through the house. As we moved through the house towards the extravagant kitchen, Santana stuck close to my side. In a house filled of bullies, cheerleaders and people who probably hated her guts, it was a good choice.
Luckily for the both of us, the McKinley students were already too drunk or adsorbed in their own drama to notice us.
"Grab a drink. You look like you need one," I suggested her as we passed the drinks table, grabbing myself a beer out of one of the coolers. I wasn't exactly surprised when she shook her head.
"I don't drink alcohol.."
"Okay spoil sport," I smirked, pipping the cap off my drink with my teeth before taking a sip. "Joe made some brownies if that interests ya," I offered. If she didn't drink, she sure as hell would probably not know what kind of brownies Joe liked to put together for these functions. This bet was going to be the easiest I ever made.
"I.. umm.. Is there something wrong with them?" Maybe she wasn't as naïve as she looked.
"Not at all," I shook my head, my smirk only growing as she gazed up at me. "They're actually really good, sweetcheeks." Game. Set. Match.
"Can I watch you eat one first?.." She asked, her rational side obviously still cautious though my petname sent another deep flush onto her face.
"I can eat as many of them in front of you as you like, hon. Don't you trust that I wouldn't poison you?"
She took a few moments to respond, her eyes flickering to the front, kicking the floor with her feet. "N-no… Not really,"
"Well good girl, because I'm not very trust worthy. Havn't you heard - I'm a badass." It was a bit stupid to just state the obvious, but I was having fun with this.
"I figured that out the first time you shoved me into the lockers…" Oh, touchy. Maybe this girl did have more bite than she looked like she did. But honestly, if anyone else had been forced here after their bully found out they were drawing creepy pictures of them when they weren't looking – they would be just as cautious.
"I don't see any lockers around here.. Do you?" I questioned her, pulling my lip into my mouth, letting my teeth scrape lightly against my lip rings. I watched her eyes flicker down to my mouth and any response she had was eaten up.
With another sip of my drink, I placed the flat of my palm against her back and guided her the rest of the way into the kitchen. Though she flinched at my sudden contact, she followed obediently regardless.
"I can be nice, you know?" I reassured her with a smirk as we neared a counter. On top of a silver platter, as promised, was a generous pile of small, square brownies. They smelled delicious and I knew Joe would have made them packed of the good stuff.
Picking a brownie up from the top of the pile, I brought it between my lips to take a bite, moaning a little in response. They were good. What was probably even better, was the way Santana's eyes followed the cake as it hit my lips, visibly swallowing.
"Okay," She replied simply, as though she was satisfied that I wasn't going to kick her ass. She reached out for a brownie and hesitantly took a bite and I cheered inside.
This was going to get fun.
"See, that wasn't so hard was it, Lopez?" I teased her, finishing off my brownie before I bumped her shoulder with my own, making her smile shyly as she ate.
"No… It's pretty good," She replied as she finished the final bite of her own. Satisfied, I pulled myself up to sit on the counter beside the tray, watching her. I knew she had definitely never had edibles before, so I had to be kind of careful. I wanted to get her high to win a bet.. And not kill her or anything. That would be a pain.
"I did tell ya," I grinned, "Big bad Britt-Britt is always right,"
Watching how she flushed, yet again, I internally rolled my eyes as I placed my beer on the counter and reached for another brownie. I had a pretty high tolerance, obviously, so I knew my limits.
When Santana followed my lead, I had half a mind to tell her to slow down. But, then again, if she didn't know what they were, then I couldn't exactly tell her she could hurt herself with it.
Looks like I was stuck babysitting.
After she took a few bites, both of us stuck in a pregnant silence, she let out a small giggle. "You can be nice, Brittany," She grinned, watching as I ate.
It was either the pot brownies taking effect or I was going crazy, but it was a little cute. She swayed on her feet, smiling at me between chews like a bashful school girl, no longer feeling the need to cover herself up with fear. It was definitely somewhat of an improvement.
"Everyone says I'm so bad, but the truth is that I just know how to party." I replied, my lips tingling as I found my beer. Weed always seemed to relax me, no matter how I took it. I didn't really get those urges to hit someone or sulk off alone when I was high. Honestly, the idea that it made everyone else happier around me was probably the only reason I wasn't constantly stoned.
"Maybe," She replied, and I watched her smile fall from her cheeks as her hand rose to her head. "I feel funny.."
Hopping off the counter, I reached out to place my hand on the side of Santana's cheek, tilting her head up to meet mine. Her eyes were glazed as she looked up at me, a dopey smile lighting up her face at our closeness.
"It's the brownies. Just enjoy it and come dance with me," Though Santana was enamored by me, I could see the apprehension in her eyes. The last thing I wanted her to do was run off and hurt herself, get me in some real trouble or worse – leave before Puckerman could see my success.
Dipping my tongue from my mouth the run it across my drying lips, I leaned into her ear. Her hair smelled like fruity shampoo and it was actually, strangely delicious. "I don't bite,"
I could feel the way the tiny Latina trembled in my arms, a short gasp leaving her lips. Between me and the brownies going to her head, she didn't really stand a chance.
"I want to go whenever you go, Brittany," She finally replied as I pulled back, her voice breathy and her jaw slack.
Reaching down for Santana's hand, I tangled our fingers together to pull her into the living room. With her flushed face and wide grin, I knew I had her wrapped around my finger. Now, all I had to do was keep her amused until Puck rolled into the party and saw us.
Humming when we hit the heated crowd of oblivious teenagers, I pulled Santana into my front, claiming her waist with my experienced hands. Her face hit my exposed collarbone, gripping the edges of my leather jacket as she sighed. Her hot breath coated my skin and a shiver ran down my spine. Pulling her tighter against my body, I started to move, rolling my body against her tiny frame as the bodies blurred around us.
This might have been torture, but I might as well enjoy the buzz.
A.N: And that's the end of part one for the party. The next update will be coming pretty soon and will have a little bit of a twist. I hope you enjoyed this, and it was fun to really develop the both of them a little more!