dorothy's slippers.

[highf]

So here's what you missed on Glee:

Puck and Santana have been stranded on an island that kind of reminds them of Lost, except without the cool polar bears and the smoke monster, and both of them are missing home and feeling way out of their league, even if neither will admit to it. ( "Not your type of party, is it?" "If I say no, you're going to

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[straightupbitch]

It was, unfortunately, nigh impossible to mistake that voice, even after so many months of quiet. Assuming that that wretched jukebox had taken to playing Glee Club renditions just to piss her off, Santana bounded down the hall toward the rec room intent on doing whatever it would take to shut that thing up. She halted, however, just before the the door, finally realizing that there were in fact two voices singing, only one familiar. Carefully, she peeked around the corner, then quickly snapped back into the hall. The glare she wore could have burned a hole in the ceiling, and silently, she willed the worst of fates on whomever or whatever had a say in the selection process for new island folk. All of Lima and they chose to send her Kurt HummelOnly when she was finally - barely - composed did Santana resurface, sneaking into the room and leaning casually against the nearest wall, her arms crossed, as she waited for him to finish. Not a moment later, she was already bored, and having decided to cut him off, called out, "Let me know

[highf]

It could hardly be said that Kurt Hummel was surprised whenever people decided to interrupt him in the middle of a song. The majority of students within both McKinley High and Dalton Academy didn't seem to appreciate finer music in the way that Kurt did, more prone to following the fads and fashions of the day- such an overabundance of talent within Dalton, and yet they were still limiting themselves to Maroon 5, which anyone could manage with a fair amount of autotune. And that lack of appreciation most often translated into an impatient and unwillingness to sit through Kurt's ideas, brainstorms and performances alike. Thrown off, he merely sighed, especially when the voice registered almost immediately, Kurt turning around on his heel with arms crossed over his chest and a look that was, if mildly irritated, also begrudgingly fond

[straightupbitch]

"I've been lying in wait, waiting for the optimal moment to pounce," Santana retorted, all too happy to draw comparison between herself and the feral feline after which, one could argue, her entire demeanor was modeled. She liked to believe that in another life, her older, wiser self had ruled the Sahara with an iron paw. Unfortunately, in this life, she lacked the respect she so deserved, with no one around yet aware of how vicious she could be. Some day soon, she would see to that. Maybe. But for the most part, it was just too hot to move, let alone strategize. "Anyway, welcome to the party, please note the obvious tone of sarcasm. You'll probably love it here, it's like someone shook America over an island-shaped bowl and only straight people managed to hold on.

- Straight guys. Whatever, you get it."

[highf]

Not even being separated by several miles during the school day could keep all rumors of McKinley away from one Kurt Hummel- and even if they had, rumors about what Brittney and Santana could get up to on their own had circulated the halls since the very first day of their freshman year. Still, those rumors were most often handled by Santana with endless aplomb, and more than a little derision; to have her practically stumble over her own words and lack the natural fire that Kurt had, on occasion, been fairly terrified of, seemed unusual. Immediately, his eyes narrowed as they kept an eye on his classmate.

"Well, if there are indeed more people of the LGBT variety," Kurt remarked with a light cock of his head. "I certainly haven't across them. Maybe a couple guys with especially fine hair, but here, with this sun, it might actually be sunbleached. Confuses the gaydar a little."

[straightupbitch]

Of this, Santana needs no reminding, finding it outright offensive how ridiculously blessed the island's gay population is in terms of physical appearance. Evidently, someone didn't think it enough to dash the hopes and dreams of teenage girls and thought to add mass amounts of sexual frustration to the equation for good measure. Besides which, it's disgustingly sexist how few lesbian women there are about as opposed to gay men, but that's something she was bitter about long before Tabula Rasa exacerbated the issue. Like, seriously? It's considered less of a social stigma to be a homosexual male than it is to be a homosexual female? Bullshit.

Whatever. The last thing she desires is to argue the politics of sexual orientation and sexism with Kurt Hummel, who would probably piss himself in glee if he were to know that she were the least bit confused. "No offense, honey, but I think your gaydar's been busted ever since you decided crushing on Finn was in any way advisable."

[highf]

"If you really think that I, for even a second, thought that Finn Hudson was anywhere but on the far end of the Kinsey scale, then I've been giving you far too much credit for your usually uncanny ability to read people," Kurt counters in turn, pointedly raising his brows. While it's true that Kurt spent a fair few weeks pining after the young man who would later become his brother-in-law, he knows full well that it was never really a crush that he expected to realize. Sometimes, simply having a crush is better than having nothing at all, even false hope still capable of putting a smile on someone's face, and dreams being impossible to really keep completely out of one's mind. "He was... nice to me, okay? Nice, and completely lost when it came to what to do with Quinn, and so it was cute. Like the way that you'd look after a lost puppy, or something. If you really wanted to question my gaydar, you'd be better off citing Sam. I swear, for the first few days, I thought he was seriously overcompensating for something

[straightupbitch]

"Of course he was," counters Santana, scoffing. "The boy has lips fuller than all of those hags on Real Housewives of New Jersey combined. I'll admit, he gave it a fair shot, but there's just no distracting from that mouth." She punctuates the sentence with a satisfied smirk, which betrays not the pang that she felt at the mention of Sam. No, he wasn't the best boyfriend, merely the most convenient one, and no, she wasn't actually interested in him, but the simple idea of having a boyfriend does funny things to a girl who's last few months have been marked with varying degrees of loneliness. That dopey, puffed up smile of Sam's would be only too welcome right now. But Kurt, loathe though she is to admit it, isn't that bad a runner-up.

"I care how you feel," she responds, too quick and insistent to sound at all genuine, if ever there was a chance. She rolls her eyes soon after, and amends, "Sometimes. We ladies have to stick together, don't we?"

[highf]

There are certain things, Kurt thinks now, that one misses in their absence. He clearly remembers walking the hallways of Dalton and missing the little things that once got under his skin more quickly than anything else. Finn's inability to close his locker properly. Quinn's habit of looking down her nose to practically all who walked around her, even those several inches taller, all by some impossible means that Kurt has yet to understand. But perhaps there's nothing that grated on Kurt's nerves quite so much as Santana's barbed words, poking and scraping in places that were completely unnecessary

[straightupbitch]

With no regard for grace, Santana slumps down into seat indicated, crossing her arms over her chest as she sinks into the cushion. Looking ahead, they don't seem to have much going for them, she, Kurt, and Puck. The next school semester is soon to start but only lunatics and losers of a different variety completely would care to further their education on an island where it will never really matter. (She is, however, looking forward to the dance classes, which she missed even before the island.) She has to wonder if this is where her life is truly headed, as part of some strange Lima solidarity with displaced Glee Club members. In a year from now, will she come to see Kurt and Puck as family? She really hopes not, least of all because it would mean being trapped here for twelve more months.

"So," she starts, in the loud tone of an announcement, demanding attention at once, "Did you come from before me or after me? They told you that happens, right?"

[highf]

If there's something that Kurt can admire in Santana, it's that lack of fear, that willingness on her part to simply press forward with a conversation, no matter how uncomfortable it might be for the other half. There are times when, no doubt, it would come back to bite a person in the behind, but it does mean that there never has to be that awkward pause around Santana, Kurt knowing that she'll just barrel on ahead for him to follow if he holds his silence for too long. This time, he can give her even more credit than that- the question she asks is a logical one, will probably help anchor her (and him, to an extent) better than any talk of school, or clothes, or other things that cease to matter as fully on Tabula Rasa