Fic: And the Winner Is...
Title: And the Winner Is...
Pairing: Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez/Brittany [Will she ever get a last name?], minor Finn Hudson/Kurt Hummel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.
Summary: Someone in glee club has made another list. This time it’s a couples list. Quinn & Rachel v. Santana & Brittany. Artie’s blamed, Kurt’s upset, Rachel’s competitive, and Brittany… has new shoes.
A/N 1: I just wrote this so that I could write about everything I thought was funny. competitive!Rachel, whipped!Quinn, diva!Kurt, brittany!Brittany.
______________________________________________________________________________
Week One…
Mercedes, Artie, Tina, and Kurt huddle around a sheet of white paper in the hallway. “Mercedes, move. I can’t see,” Kurt calls to her, sweeping his bangs to the side. “What is it?”
“A ‘Glouple List,’” she says with confusion. “What is that?”
Artie wheels to the front of the group to get a good look at the paper. “Judging by the names listed and how they’re listed together, I would say that this is a couples list. A glee couples list. Someone must have combined the words glee and couple. And what an ugly word they make,” he adds.
Tina kneels down beside Artie. “Artie, did you make this list? Why would you do this? You remember how upset Mr. Schue was the last time someone made a list like this.”
“I-I didn’t make it,” he stammers out.
“Well, you sure do know a lot about it for someone that didn’t make it,” Mercedes adds in.
He wheels back as he sees everyone closing in on him. “I promise, you guys. I didn’t make-”
“Hello everyone,” Rachel sings as she skips to the group. “What are you all staring at?”
“We have a new list,” Kurt says, scandalized.
Rachel looks at him in confusion. “A list?”
“Yes,” he continues. “A ‘Glouple List.’ It’s a list for glee couples. Basically it’s you and Quinn versus Santana and Brittany,” he says, a little miffed.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“They could have included Finn and me,” he says with his nose in the air.
Rachel walks over to the list and peers at it closely. She and Quinn had [+26] and Santana and Brittany were close behind with [+23].
She turns back to her friends. “Who did this?”
“Artie.”
“Mercedes, I didn’t do it,” he says in his own defense. “Please tell me you believe me, Rachel.”
Rachel didn’t care. It finally felt good to be winning something. “I have to tell Quinn.”
______________________________________________________________________________
“You’re going to let a former Juno and her troll win over me and Brittany? This is unacceptable.” Santana stands in front of glee club, the list crumpled in her hand as she terrorizes everyone. “And for the record, whoever made this list is going to be put in a hospital.”
“Why so butt hurt?” Quinn calls to Santana from the back of the class with an arched eyebrow. Rachel sits happily beside her, watching Santana rant. It felt good to be winning something.
Santana growls at the girl as she stomps back to her seat, defeated. “Bite me, Fabray.”
Brittany’s there with a pinky when she sits down. The blonde girl rests her head on Santana’s shoulder as she strokes her thigh and her ego, lovingly.
“Finn,” Kurt hisses as he looks down at his shoe. “This is the second time this class period that you’ve stepped on my new Armani loafers.”
Finn winces at Kurt’s tone as he moves his size zillion shoe out of the way. “Dude, why are you making such a big deal? It’s just a shoe.”
That was the last straw. “You see,” Kurt says as he takes a stand. “This is why we weren’t on the list. What have I told you about calling me ‘dude?’”
Finn stands up as well. “Look, Kurt, I’m sorry.”
“I am not one of those meat heads on your football team, Finn. I am your boyfriend.”
Rachel and Quinn giggle quietly to themselves at the show going on while Puck makes the sound of a whip being cracked, and Finn feels himself redden. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” he whispers.
“Hold that thought, Finn.”
Mr. Schue walks into the choir room, holding a balled up piece of paper that everyone suspects is the list.
“Who did this?”
The mood in the classroom instantly sobers. “Seriously, who did this?”
“Mr. Schue-”
“Rachel, unless you’re going to tell me that you did it or the person that did, you’re going to have to hold that thought.”
Santana whispers to Brittany. “It’s about time someone told her to shut up.”
“I heard that, slut,” Quinn calls to her from two people down.
“Did you do it, Quinn?” Mr. Schue asks.
She angles her head away from his eyes in embarrassment. “Not this time…no.”
Rachel’s face is aghast as she turns to Quinn. “You made the first list?!”
Her eyes widen at what her words had done. “I had a good reason…”
“We will talk about this after your Cheerios practice,” Rachel says, sounding like a mother scolding her child.
“Okay.”
“I was at the bottom of that list, Quinn.”
“I know,” she sighs. “Sorry.” She was never going to hear the end of it.
“I had a negative five.”
“I know what you had,” she hisses. “I typed it. You can yell at me about this later, but Santana is laughing at me right now.”
Mr. Schue rolls his eyes at his class before replying. “Alright. I didn’t want to have to do this…again. But you leave me no choice. I’ll be calling everyone into my office for interviews. Starting with you Artie.”
“He’s the one that did it.”
“Mercedes, please.” Artie rolls himself outside of the class room with Mr. Schue following.
The bell rings for everyone to change classes. Santana sprints to the head of the room. “Whoever made that list better fix their mistake. I know the rules!” she says, glaring menacingly at her classmates as they exit the class.
Quinn walks up to her with a smirk on her face. “There are rules? What are they?”
Santana crosses her arms defensively, shifting her weight onto her right foot. “Of course there are rules. Can’t you read?”
“I haven’t seen the list.”
“A list is being made weekly for a month. Four lists, each with their own separate score. At the end of the month the four scores will be added up and which ever couple has the most points wins best couple.”
“Sounds easy enough,” she remarks while checking her nails. “Rach and I are going to win.”
“Well, why don’t you bring it, Quinn?” Santana asks with a sneer.
“Apparently I’ve already brought it, San,” she growls.
Brittany walks up to the two girls, having caught the tail end of the conversation. “S, what are we bringing?”
“Nothing, B-”
“Is it like a party?” she asks excitedly. “We have to bring stuff? Should I bring cupcakes?”
Santana tries to calm the girl. Once Brittany got started there was no stopping her. “Britt, there is no par-”
“Later, San. I have to go find cupcakes.” She takes off into a sprint out of the choir room.
Santana turns back to glare at Quinn. “Look what you’ve done.” She runs off behind the tall blonde. “Britt, honey, don’t run. You never finished tying your shoes.”
Quinn turns back around to find Rachel approaching her with a notebook. “What do you have there?”
Rachel continues to write vigorously in her book, biting her lower lip in contemplation. “It is an itinerary that will be implemented over the next three weeks to ensure that we win. Assuming that the person that created this list is operating off of the last list, sexually promiscuous acts will win us best couple.”
Quinn groans. “Rach, is this really important? Can’t we just let the chips fall where they may?”
“We most certainly cannot,” she replies. “Quinn, let’s not forget that you created the list that put me in last place.”
“But that was long before we were together. And I felt fat that day," she explains. “I was fat that day. I was pregnant and wanted to feel better about myself.”
Rachel nods. “As do I, Quinn. Can you do this for me? Please?” She sing-songs the word and even uses puppy dog eyes. Something she knows her girlfriend can’t resist.
Quinn heaves a heavy sigh. “Fine.”
She’s rewarded with a kiss on the lips before Rachel grabs her hand and prepares to leave. “How do you feel about a sex tape?”
______________________________________________________________________________
Mr. Schue slams his hands on the desk in the most intimidating way he could muster. “Kurt,” he says roughly. “You did it, didn’t you?”
Kurt sits his nail file down as he uncrosses his legs. He leans closer to to Mr. Schue. “Really, Mr. Schue? Really? Do you honestly think I would make this pathetic excuse of a list and not include the best couple of the school?”
“Um…” he looks around in confusion. “Who’s the best couple in school?”
Kurt throws a fit. “Finn and I!” he shouts. “Does no one know that?”
“Whoa, sorry Kurt,” he replies as he puts his hands up in placation.
Kurt slowly sits back down, eyes looking everywhere. “Is it because he always calls me dude? Is that why people don’t acknowledge us as a couple?”
Schue quietly walks over to the door, opens it, and slips out. That was weird.
______________________________________________________________________________
Week Two…
“Quinn!” Rachel shouts as she runs to the girl’s locker. “Quinn!”
Said girl nearly drops her books at the sound of someone screaming her name as if they were being slaughtered. “Berry!” she yells back. “You almost gave me a heart attack. What’s the problem?”
Rachel holds up the list. “The problem, Quinn, is that you have been slipping. Look at our score.”
She holds the paper directly in front of Quinn’s face. The girl eyeballs it closely before replying. “So? We’re only down by five points.”
“I don’t think you understand the severity of this situation,” Rachel says in a grave voice. “Last week Santana and Brittany were only down by three. This week, we are down by five. This means that if you total the scores together right now, we would still be down by two points. They are winning overall, Quinn.”
Quinn rubs the back of her neck as she listens to Rachel ramble. Being Rachel’s girlfriend had perks, but silence wasn’t one of them.
“Quick, put this on.” Rachel pulls out a red and beige argyle sweater out of her bag and hands it to Quinn.
“What the hell is this?” she questions as she backs away. She was allergic to bad fashion.
Rachel’s brows furrow. “Quinn. You are not cooperating. You were greatly against the sex tape, though I promised that we only needed to circulate it for a couple of days, just to get our names out there. You were against having risqué sex in Sue’s office and the janitor’s closet. And Brittany’s made out with the janitor, just so you know,” she says. “Brittany and Santana are light years ahead of us on the promiscuous front. So, I decided to attack with a different angle.”
“And what angle is that?” Quinn asks as she eyes the sweater.
“Cuteness. We are going to dress alike in hopes of warming whoever’s heart that makes the list so that they may give us more points.”
She shoves the sweater back at Quinn with a large smile on her face. Quinn accepts it and trudges to the bathroom to put it on.
______________________________________________________________________________
“You’re winning this week,” he starts as he paces the floor. “You feel invincible, on top of the world. And you get to watch Quinn walk around in that sweater all day. Fess up. You made that list.”
“Please,” Santana scoffs. “Do you really think I’m that much of a loser?”
“I’ve done my research on you, Santana,” he says as he grabs a chair. He positions it directly in front of her and sits on it. “Yours and Brittany’s anniversary is coming up. And you forgot it last year. Brittany was upset. Even crying.”
Santana shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “That was a rough couple of days,” she admits. “She wouldn’t return my calls.”
“Because you forgot about her,” he presses.
“No!” she shouts, standing. “I had a lot going on! Mrs. Johnston had just given a monster assignment. I had been spending a lot of time at the library. I forgot!”
“That’s why you made the list,” he continues. “If you two won best couple then that would make up for forgetting your anniversary as well as being a great gift for this year.”
She sits back down. “I’d never thought of that,” she says. “Damn. I should have made that list.”
Mr. Schue looks at her incredulously.
“Or maybe…maybe I can just tell her I did it anyway.” She stands up and dusts off her skirt. “Thanks, Mr. Schue!” she says with a smile before walking out of his office.
“…You’re welcome.”
______________________________________________________________________________
Week Three…
“We’re tied?!” Santana shrieks as she rips the list off of some student’s locker.
“Like my shoes?” Brittany asks in return as she bends down to blow a kiss to her new white shoes.
“Not like your shoes,” she replies distractedly as she mentally tallies up the number again.
Brittany frowns. Something needed to be about her shoes. She sees Quinn and Rachel approaching, hand in hand and waves at them. “Rachel! Quinn! Look! We’re tied. Just like my shoes!”
Rachel quickly drops Quinn’s hand, practically shoves the girl to the side as she barrels past Brittany and towards the list.
“Let me see the list,” she says as she tries to get it from Santana.
“No way, midget.” She holds the list as far into the air as she can, knowing the shorter girl couldn’t reach it. “You see?” she taunts. “This is why you should never stop growing.”
Quinn continues walking at a leisurely pace until she catches up. Slipping behind Santana, she smoothly reaches up and retrieves the list.
“What the hell?”
Rachel runs over to where Quinn is. She smiles gratefully at Quinn when the blonde holds it down at a comfortable reading level for her. “Add the five…carry the one…we are tied!” she exclaims. “You cheated!”
Santana glowers at the shorter girl. “How could I have possibly cheated? I didn’t make the list!”
“Yes, you did!” Rachel glares back. “I’m sure you did this just to annoy Quinn and me.”
“This is worse than when she plays Scrabble,” Quinn grumbles to herself.
“We’re going to win this,” Rachel informs as she steps into Santana’s face.
Santana steps closer, never being one to back down from a challenge. “Is that so? We’ll just see about that.”
“We will,” Rachel says. “Come on, Quinn. We have lots to do.” She doesn’t even wait for Quinn to follow as she swiftly power walks down the hallway, determination powering her every step.
“You just had to ruffle her feathers, didn’t you?” Quinn questions as she walks away. “You’re going to pay for this, Lopez.”
Santana’s lip twitches down as she contemplates her next move.
“Britt,” she starts. “We have to do something drastic.”
______________________________________________________________________________
“I think I’m being punished. I mean, I love her, you know. She’s talkative, bossy, loud, narcissistic, and a little crazy. But I love her. And I’m starting to wonder why.”
“Um, Quinn,” Mr. Schue begins. He didn’t call Quinn into his office so he’s confused as to why she showed up. “If you didn’t start the list then there’s really no reason for you to be here.”
She shakes her head. “This is my punishment for making the first list. I think while pursuing her not-so-secret and borderline obsessive need to win, she’s surreptitiously seeking revenge on me for making that list. I’m going crazy, Mr. Schue.
“Emma is just down the hall,” he says calmly. “I’m sure she has pamphlets-”
“There’s no pamphlet for this. Do you know why I’m here right now? I’m here because she wanted me to dress as a Teletubby with her and take a photo. She even brought the costumes. She thinks it will improve her chances. I mean, really? A Teletubby? Those are like, nineties, Mr. Schue,” she says as she crosses her arms, reassuring herself that everything’s going to be okay. “Besides, wasn’t one of them gay? Not that I have a problem with gay people, because, come on, I’m a girl having sex with a girl and all.”
“This is making me uncomfortable.”
“You’re telling me,” she says with a small laugh. “Rachel has that effect on some people. But she’s great,” she says quietly.
“Quinn? Quinn, where are you?”
Quinn breaks out into a sweat as she hears the current cause of her insanity call her name. “Mr. Schue,” she says urgently. “You have to hide me. Please. If you care anything about the children that you teach then you’ll hide me. Now.”
Mr. Schue motions for Quinn to hide under his desk as he hears his door open. Rachel peeks into the room. “Mr. Schue, have you seen Quinn?”
“No,” he says. “No, I haven’t seen her all day, Rachel.”
Rachel frowns before sitting down in the chair recently occupied by Quinn. She sighs heavily. “She’s not pulling her weight, Mr. Schue. I don’t think her heart’s in this. It all started when…”
Both Quinn and Mr. Schue sigh quietly at the thought of having to be subjected to Rachel’s talking for who knows how long.
______________________________________________________________________________
Week Four…
“The list is usually posted around lunch time,” Rachel whispers to Quinn. “When the bell rings, we will split up and scour the school for it because our anonymous list maker does not put it in the same place twice.”
“Why are you whispering?” Quinn asks with a whisper of her own as she regards Rachel with confusion.
Rachel sighs. “I am nervous,” she answers in a regular speaking voice. “Is your phone fully charged? If you find the list I expect you to call me promptly.”
Quinn writes her name on her worksheet before she answers. “It’s charged.”
“Wait,” she says a moment later. “What are you even doing here? We don’t have chemistry at the same time.”
Rachel blushes. “These are very trying times, Quinn. It is best that we act as a cohesive duo and stick together.”
Quinn nods her head, as if anything that Rachel was saying at the moment made sense. “Listen,” she starts, “I think we should come up with a plan for the worst case scenario.”
“What do you mean?” Rachel questions anxiously. “You don’t think we can win?”
“You said yourself that S and B are light years ahead of us in the whore department.” She reaches out and grabs Rachel’s hand. “You’ve worked really hard to ensure a victory for us and I’d hate to see it all go to waste if we don’t win.”
“What are you saying?” Rachel questions as she looks at their joined hands before looking Quinn in the eye. “What’s the plan?”
Quinn takes a deep breath before slowly releasing it. This was a big step. “I know Eclipse comes out on the thirtieth,” she whispers. “And I know how much you’ve wanted to see it. You even wrote the date on the ‘hers and hers’ relationship calendar that you made for me.”
Rachel’s hand lifts up to cover her own mouth. “Go on,” she says in a muffled voice.
“What I’m saying is…if we don’t win, I’ll go to see the movie with you.”
Rachel’s eyes light up as she reaches forward to hug the blonde tightly. “Quinn!” she squeals. “Do you mean it?”
She nods as she returns the hug. “I mean it. But, that’s only if we don’t win.”
Rachel nods her head enthusiastically in understanding as she releases Quinn from her hold so that she could do her work. This was great. Even if she lost, Quinn would go see a movie with her that she was trying to get the other girl to agree to see for weeks now. She smiles. It felt good to be winning something.
______________________________________________________________________________
“I don’t get it, Emma.” Mr. Schue sighs as he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I’ve interviewed everyone. Artie’s still, of course, too short, Brittany still can’t operate a computer, Quinn’s learned her lesson the first time.”
Emma walks over and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Well, what about the rest?” she asks.
“Mercedes doesn’t care about a stupid list. Kurt wouldn’t have done it without putting himself and Finn as a couple.”
“They’re together?” she asks, shocked.
Mr. Schue throws his hands up. “Kurt says so,” he says, shaking his head doubtfully.
“Santana blatantly took the idea of making the list to impress, Brittany so I highly doubt it was either one of them.”
“And Tina?”
“A good kid,” he says. “So are Rachel, Mike, and Matt. So I don’t believe any of them did anything.”
Emma runs through the kids names in her mind. “That only leaves on person,” she whispers.
They both turn to look at each other, mouths agape. How could they have missed that? “Puck.”
Mr. Schue shakes his head as he paces the floor. “Why didn’t you question him in the first place?” Emma asks as she watches him.
“I had given him such a hard time when the first list was made,” he answers. “I wanted to spare him this time. Look what good that did.”
“What are you going to do now?”
______________________________________________________________________________
“You did it.”
“Yeah, I did it, Mr. Schue.” Puck reclines back into Mr. Schue’s chair in his office as he runs a hand through his non-existent Mohawk.
“Why?” Schue walks behind his desk and takes a seat in his chair. “Why would you do it?”
“Mr. Schue, I’ve been without the hawk for a long time now,” Puck says, referencing his hair. “And yeah, I’m still cool, I’m still popular. But sometimes these nerds around here forget that I’m a badass. That I can kick their ass. I needed to do something that reassured everyone that Puckasaurus still had a mean roar.”
“Is that it?” Mr. Schue asks. “Did you do all of this just so everyone remembered you were cool?”
“Well…yeah,” he says with a shrug. “And also to see the girls fight. Girls are hot, Mr. Schue. Especially when they fight. Three out of four of them wear Cheerios uniforms. I have two words for you, Mr. Schue.” He leans forward as if he were telling a secret. “Crunchy toast.”
“I’ve heard enough,” he says as he stands. “I’m glad this whole thing is over, but don’t think you’re off the hook, Puck.”
Puck sighs as he takes a stand as well. “I know I’m in trouble, Mr. Schue. But, it was worth it,” he says with a secretive smirk. “Totally worth it.”
______________________________________________________________________________
“We lost,” Rachel pouts as she stares at the list.
Quinn stands behind her, placing placating hands on her shoulder. “Yeah,” she agrees. “By a landslide, too. I don’t know what Santana and Brittany did this past week but it must have been good.” She spins Rachel around and wraps her in a hug. “I’m sorry we lost, Rach.”
“I’m not.”
Santana saunters smugly down the hallway as with Brittany, linked by the pinky. “I told you that you would lose, didn’t I?”
“Shut up, San,” Quinn replies. “She already feels bad enough and you’re not going to rub it in.”
Santana’s face warps into a faux-pout as Brittany steps forward. “I’m sorry you lost, Rach,” she says. “You can have my shoes if you want. I already tied them for you.”
She bends down to take off her shoes, but Rachel stops her. “That’s alright, Brittany. I appreciate your concern, but I’m certain that we don’t wear the same size.”
Brittany shrugs as she stands back up.
“Alright,” Quinn says, clasping her hands together. “These past four weeks have been sufficiently awful and a waste of my time. Come on, Rach. Let’s go to lunch.”
“Uh, you go ahead, Quinn,” Rachel says to the blonde. “I have something I need to take care of.”
She eyes the smaller girl curiously before turning to Santana and Brittany. They both shrug at her and she shrugs in return. “I’ll see you in a little while then.” She gives her a brief kiss before walking to lunch.
Rachel’s quiet for a moment as she stares at the two remaining girls. “How did you do it?” she asks. “You have twenty-one more points than we do.”
Brittany giggles quietly behind her hand as Santana replies. “We made out in front of him,” she says.
“Kissing?” Rachel asks. “You got all of those extra points from just kissing?”
“Kissing is that middle school shit you and Quinn do while making out,” Santana scoffs. “When Brittany and I make out, it’s under the clothes fondling.”
Rachel stares at Santana with a bemused expression. Quinn was right. They really were whorish. “Well, no matter what your…methods were, you got the job done.”
“It’s a win-win,” Santana says with a smirk.
Rachel returns the smirk. “I get to see Eclipse with Quinn.”
“We win best couple,” Santana continues. “And Puck gets to be ‘cool,’” she says with air quotes.
“Then I guess we’re done here.” Rachel spins on her heels and walks back to the cafeteria to join Quinn for lunch. It felt good to be winning something.
END