& she only had two friends on Facebook
GLEE FANFIC; KURT, BRITTANY, TINA; count the number of times Brittany has been nice or generally a happy bunny- outside of a generic group scene. When the spotlight is on her, if you hear her lines, she's naïve but not innocent, and not a ball of sunshine. That said, Glee definitely needs to give the Single Ladies Trio more screentime.
For dapplefur at the glee_rare_pairs exchange {prompt: Brittany and Tina, dancing.} I hope you like it.
♥♥♥ to Katy (unique_uker) for helping me thrash out Brittany's characterisation, and Brandi (curve) for listening through my endless Tina fangirly rants.
she only had two friends on Facebook
"Remember why I hate cheerleaders? She's why I hate cheerleaders." "Remember why I hate cheerleaders? She's why I hate cheerleaders."
Just how Kurt Hummel, Glee clubber and rumoured gay kid, got a cheerleader and Goth to dance to Single Ladies with him.
Missing moment from 1.04 Preggers. Restructuring of that episode, with minor spoilers.
"What just happened?"
Kurt corners Tina as she runs out of the wings and off the stage. The whole point of his presence was originally to be supportive of her first Glee club solo, the opening salvo from the Resist Rachel Berry's Bid to Take Over the Club Association. Needless to say, that's not how Tonight happens.
"N-nothing just happened." Tina clutches her messenger bag a little closer to herself, mouth tightening in a defensive line. "I d-don't know what you're t-talking about."
"How did you blow that note? That's not like you at all."
She shrugs, stepping around him. "Maybe I can't sing." Kurt has to jog to keep up with her quickening strides out the auditorium, but he's relentless.
"You went to that Sound of Music sing-along with me. You were the perfect duet partner. There's never anything wrong with your pitch."
There really isn't: she sings like a dream, and she loves unrehearsed renditions of their favourite songs. He remembers the two of them splitting up the verses from Memory in his basement, singing along to the instrumental soundtrack. Not to mention, he knows Tina (all right, so Mercedes knows Tina, and he knows Mercedes) and her first solo is a big deal. It may in fact be a huge deal. Kurt, who has to scream to be heard, has no idea why Tina would sabotage herself.
"I got nervous. I b-blew it."
He stops in his tracks.
She turns around, arms crossed unhappily across her chest. "Not everyone's as confident as you are, Kurt." And before he can say anything, she adds quickly, "I have tap class. I have to go or I'll be late."
*
It's obvious to Kurt what he has to do: save Tina from herself. He loves her voice, how versatile she can be, but if she's not going to help herself, he's got to intervene. By any means necessary and legality be damned. That's how Kurt finds himself chasing down Puck.
For the greater good.
"'Sup, pretty boy."
Greater good and selflessness, Kurt reminds himself, trying to swallow his contempt and loathing. Puck is leaning casually against his Chevy, one arm casually slung around Brittany Pierce's waist. "Puckerman. Hi, Brittany. Can I talk to you about something?"
She cocks her head politely, but she doesn't seem especially interested. Puck smirks, probably amused at Kurt's attempt to transcend McKinley's pecking order. On the other hand, it could be because his fingers are hooked around the waistband of Brittany's tiny Cheerios skirt, dipping below. Ever since Santana dumped Puck over his grades, he doesn't seem to have much trouble moving on.
Realising he's not going to get any more encouragement from Brittany, he screws his courage to the sticking place and comes out (with it.) And whenever Kurt's afraid, the first thing he knows is not to let it show. So he raises his chin, ignores Puck's presence entirely, looks the considerably taller Brittany in the eye, and says:
"I'm making a music video. And I need you to be in it."
(Kurt 03:30) Come over to my house when your tap-dancing class is over.
Puck guffaws, an eyebrow rising in a sneer. "Nice to know you want America's Got Talent to notice you. Tell me if your audition makes the cut: I'll make sure to switch the TV on and watch if it does."
"I would, but I'm pretty sure you've already got the channel, show timings, and the air dates of the next season memorised already."
"What kind of music video?"
Kurt is honestly a little floored that Brittany would even ask, instead of rejecting the idea straightaway. "Beyoncé," he tells her, regretting just a little that Mercedes had opted to pass over it, quoting his quixotic dreams of helping Tina as being doomed from the start. "We're going to do Single Ladies."
"Oh. Of course I'll do it." Her eyes light up with obvious delight, even though her mouth doesn't change. He's never really seen Brittany smile with her eyes and her mouth at the same time, but he's glad that she seems to be on board with this. "Of course, I'll sing lead. I sing better than all of you. And I know I'm a good dancer, so I can't be back-up. You and someone else can be my back-up dancers, Kurt."
(Kurt 03:31) I have a project in mind and you'd be perfect for it.
Brittany's been a cheerleader from freshman year. She's tall, blonde, slim: athletic, limber, great stamina. Sue Sylvester told her on her first day of try-outs that she'd be a perfect fit for either the Cheerios or the hooker pole. Kurt, standing further down the line, had winced inwardly (show no fear) but the words had slid like water off a duck's back as far as Brittany was concerned.
Once she made it to the squad, he's only ever seen her hanging out with the Titans and the other Cheerios: the world of 'beautiful people'. Santana and Quinn are the ringleaders, but he sees Brittany do things with them sometimes. Brittany whispering with Santana and Quinn before the latter stride away. Brittany kissing a new boy against his locker every week. Brittany sitting on one of the lawn chairs the football team has nailed to his roof. Brittany watching impassively with unsmiling eyes, mouth, as her boyfriend-of-the-week and his friends fling her classmates into the Dumpster. Brittany mocking other girls because Santana's told her to. Brittany standing in front of him, towering over him, telling him he sings like a girl and she still sounds better.
He'd snort, but he's aware that she's bigger, taller, stronger, and the silently intimidation tactic is working.
She's still a better dancer than he is.
In short, he needs her.
(Kurt 03:33) It involves Brittany Pierce.
"Britt, you serious?" Puck's voice has never been more unwelcome to Kurt in his life. "You're gonna end up on MTV doing the gayest thing since Hummel himself?"
Her nose scrunches a little in thought as she looks from Kurt to Puck, as if the latter has all the answers. "I don't know… I've never done a gay guy before. Do you do it like-"
"I'm not gay, and I'm doing this is for someone else." Kurt is talking through clenched teeth now. "It's for Tina."
"Sure," Puck drawls, but Brittany's attention is back on Kurt again.
"Oh. You could've told me… Will she take me shopping for Goth clothes like hers if I say yes?"
"Absolutely. Anything you want."
*
"Nothing she wants," Tina fumes, stomping down the stairs to his basement, "makes any kind of sense."
Kurt follows at a more leisurely pace, carrying two cans of grape juice, a giant bag of Doritos, and a precariously balanced platter of nachos so heavy that it might sprain his wrist. "So, I take it that the shopping expedition went well?" he asks, eyeing the numerous bags she's holding, a shoebox tucked under one arm.
Tina freezes mid-stair, whirling around to glare up at him. The clunky motorcycle boots and the aggressively green eye-shadow makes him momentarily forget that this is the girl with the stutter. In fact, she's so flaming angry she seems to have forgotten she's the girl with the stutter.
"Remember why I hate cheerleaders? She's why I hate cheerleaders."
She tosses the shopping bags onto Kurt's bed, and he tries lowering the food onto the table. He doesn't ask her for help, even though he's overladen, and she's too preoccupied to offer.
"S-some of this stuff is f-for you, by the way," she tells Kurt, frowning. "There were spike heels on sale and they reminded me of you."
Kurt is surprised, but thanks her anyway. Ever since Mercedes tried to buy him gold harem pants as a "fabulous birthday gift for a fabulous friend," (her way of joking about her misplaced crush on him,) he's a little worried. He lifts the lid of the box, eyebrows disappearing into his fringe to see the leather, rhinestone-studded jagged-heeled shoes, and when he smiles at Tina this time, it's genuine.
"You really owe me."
He grins. "I do."
"I hope you remember the bribe you promised me for going through with this."
"Your demands are steep, but they will be met."
Tina sinks down on his couch, rolling her eyes heavenwards. She picks up his iPod from the coffee table, and puts in the earphones. She ignores the song paused mid-way, and flicks through his playlist. Kurt knows she's probably looking through the Miss Saigon OBC recording. She's such a romantic, it's almost cheesy, but she picks the angsty fictional romances anyway as though she's conscious that she has an image to keep up with.
Suddenly she looks up. "You know what reminds me of her?"
Kurt, engrossed in trying out his new shoes, doesn't even have to ask who the 'her' refers to.
"Hats," says Tina, not waiting for an answer. "It's like she's obsessed with them. It's like watching a crazy cat lady buying tins of cat food. She bought three different Gothic Lolita hats today. She even kept trying to make wear them."
She isn't quite as angry as her own words, Kurt realises quietly. She sounds… fascinated. By Brittany Pierce's preppy pretensions.
*
Sandy Ryerson had been in charge of both the theatre club and the glee club, and Kurt had been in both. This means he has a fairly good working knowledge of outrageous costumes, mostly in the skinny and leotard department, but he leaves Brittany in charge of it anyway. He's already told her wants to stay as true to his 'canon' as he possibly can, which means she can't go very wrong.
What he hasn't told Tina is that she's expected to be part of his Beyoncé canon. Until fifteen minutes ago, she'd thought that she was going to be behind the camera while Kurt realised his pop star dreams with Brittany's choreographer-meets-dancer help. In fact, she'd actually been enthusiastic.
"A-Artie's been telling me about these r-really cool filming techniques that the AV club uses. He's been t-trying out some of them on his own. You should see it s-sometime. He's s-such a good d-director…"
Kurt says nothing about the fact that Tina's blushing.
"I don't want you to be hiding behind the camera on this one. I need another dancer, and I want it to be you."
"Wait. What?"
He's still not sure how he's managed to stop her from storming out of his basement. Maybe it's the fact that they're sort of friends now (and not just because they both know Mercedes, are in New Directions together, and have been slushied.) Maybe it's because of solidarity: they're both part of the Association of People Who Have Been Bullied By Jocks and Cheerleaders.
Maybe it's because he reminds her that she's promised to help him out with this, regardless of how she's helping; or maybe it's because he tells her Brittany will be disappointed if she doesn't.
In the end, she stays.
Then the doorbell rings and he rushes aboveground, answering the door to find Brittany locking her bike to the doorknob. She's got a big rucksack with her, probably stuffed with costumes and shoes. It's nearly as big as she is, but her muscles, honed from more than a year of being on the Cheerios is up to the task of heavy lifting.
"I got all the stuff we need," she tells him, following him inside to the kitchen.
"Great. Thanks."
"These aren't very Goth clothes, in case you didn't notice."
He turns around, annoyed that she's probably in cahoots with Tina and trying to revive the same argument. (An argument he had won by sending his friend away on a guilt trip.)
"I noticed."
"How did you get her to wear a unitard? And I want a soda."
What surprises him most is that she's taken it for granted that he's succeeded.
The sound of shoes clicking on the stairs makes Tina automatically assume that it's Kurt, so she doesn't look up. Rihanna is blasting cheesy but inspirational music about female empowerment in her ears, as she flicks through Kurt's Sixteen.
"Hi." Brittany sits down on the other end of the couch, wedging in between Tina's painted toes and the armrest. "Kurt says you don't want to do this."
Tina is so confused by this invasion of privacy that she freezes, staring at her knees. She's already paused the song reflexively, but there's no sense in letting Brittany know.
"It'll be like that time in dance camp all over again. Except you get to be a in a music video."
Brittany puts her hand on Tina's leg, leaning a little bit of pressure on it, but she doesn't flinch away. She can't deny that a music video sounds very cool, but even dance camp hadn't involved ridiculous, practically negligible skin-baring clothing and the requirement to think over-hyped pop music is cool. Brittany's fingers are rubbing pinpricks of warmth into her leg, and all that Tina hears over and over again is just like dance camp.
"I look hot in a unitard." Brittany tells it like she's pointing out that there are clouds in the sky today. "And so do you."
Tina knows she's too plump in the face, wide in the hips; her thighs aren't as toned as Brittany's. Just like dance camp.
Then Brittany says, "Come on. All the boys will find you as sexy as I do. Even Mike Chang."
"Because he's Asian?"
"Because we three are the only ones around here who can dance."
*
Brittany was in the lead so far only because hip-hop on So You Think You Can Dance was far more advanced than what Tina had bargained for. The points on the whiteboard were racking up fast in Brittany's favour, and Tina glared at the TV, waiting for a classical-inspired choreographed couple to come on so that she could even the score. Popping and locking would never be her forte, and she watched, both disgusted and grudgingly impressed when Brittany threw in the bouncing splits- which not even the original dancers on screen had done.
While she was all in favour of the dance camp counsellors' motto of pushing the envelope, Tina thought So You Think You Can Dance was the wrong show to emulate. Especially if it looked like Brittany was being handed an unfair advantage on a silver platter.
In the end, she lost by a point, being offered commiserations by the other girls, who had been avidly watching their competition. She sank down on the couch, drained and sullen, and Brittany perched next to her, unfazed and barely tired. No one would believe she'd been dancing for forty-five minutes straight.
"Tina?"
"Hn?"
Brittany was sitting really closed, the two of them nearly squashed into one side of the couch until they were practically sharing a seating cushion.
"Can I try something?"
"I guess." Tina was past caring if Brittany wanted to try massaging her feet or wanted to tie her hair into millions of tiny braids.
"Look at me for a minute."
Rolling her eyes, Tina does. Brittany's gaze was disconcertingly direct. Is this an 'uh-oh' moment- but the thought didn't finish in her head and the uh-oh moment never happened. Brittany leaned in, tilting her head, eyes closed, and Tina knew this was going be her first kiss. She hadn't minded telling Brittany that last night over smuggled wine coolers and choco-chip cookies, but she was surprised that Brittany had remembered. It didn't prepare her for the sensation, her stomach flew in loop-de-loops, but she was leaning in, meeting Brittany's lips with her own.
They kissed, and it was dry, and close-mouthed, and soft, the scent of strawberry Chapstick tickling her nose. Brittany slowly drew away, eyes wide and wondering as she watched Tina.
"I thought-"
Tina didn't let that thought finish either, tilting her head up, cupping Brittany's cheek with one hand and kissing her more firmly. Brittany's lips parted at once, and Tina coaxed her way in, exploratory in a way that wasn't tentative or nervous, as if they both knew that this would never happen again and they should make the most of right now.
(She sincerely hoped that this wouldn't have to be the case.)
Brittany's arm was encircling her waist, pulling her tight and closer. Sucking at Tina's lips as she drew back just once more, she asked, "Want to do it all over again?"
finis