fierceputain (fierceputain) wrote,
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fierceputain

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Of Violins and Short Skirts

Prompt: "All you're good for is being a whore and dancing around in a short skirt."
"Nu-uh, I play the guitar too. I'm totally good at it, I should like, perform or something... *vacant look*"

Figgins lets her play in front of the school. Santana is supportive but not expecting much. Everyone laughs when she comes out because she has a violin, not a guitar, and she looks clueless and confused.

And then she plays this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zrRgfpiCE7I

Brittany's full of surprises.


Brittany stood up, straightening her skirt and getting a better grip on the books she had just picked up. She turned, blushing slightly at the cat calls she was getting from the group of jocks.

"Yeah, baby, you can bend over like that whenever you like," Amizio shouted, earning a few high fives from some other team members.  Brittany smiled shyly, waving to them.

"You shouldn't encourage that type of behavior, Brittany. They're only objectifying you for their own pleasure and enjoyment." Rachel stopped next to the blond, a tray with a plate of overcooked pasta in her tiny hands. She looked up to Brittany. "You're better than that, Brittany. You have the potential to be a strong, independent woman, despite stereotypes regarding your hair color. Think of people like Marilyn Mon-"

"BAM," Karofsky yelled, hitting the tray, the gooey contents now smeared all over Rachel's face and hideous duck themed sweater.

She sniffled as the entire cafeteria erupted in laughter, the roars ringing in her ears.

A small wave of relief came over her as she noticed Brittany's look of concern. "Are you okay," she questioned.

Rachel pursed her lips, nodding. "Y-yeah, I'll be okay. I just have to get cleaned up...again," she whimpered, staring at her ruined outfit.

Brittany looked up, cocking her head. "I was talking to the duck."

*_*_*_*_*

"And five, six, seven, eight!"

The gym was filled with a blur of red and white as girls (and boys) flipped, twirled and tumbled around, forming an array of movements until landing in the perfect pyramid right as the music came to an astounding close.

"DISGRACEFUL! YOU'RE ALL AN ABOMINATION TO THIS SQUAD! ESPECIALLY YOU, LANCE! Hit the showers."

The Cheerios dragged themselves to the locker rooms, ignoring the loud sobs echoing across the large gymnasium.

"Oh, suck it up, Lance," Santana barked, wiping her face and neck with a towel. "It's not like she insulted your new haircut, which by the way, is just really fucking awful. Even for you." She sneered once more, watching him stifle sobs before she turned and paraded out the gym, hips swaying with a smirk on her lips.

She entered the locker room, girls parting the way for her to walk through. She stepped over bags and towels before noticing Brittany furiously tugging on the lock of the locker they shared.

Her face softened. "Need some help, Brit?"

Brittany's face fell, her eye welling up slightly. "I can't remember the password, San. Stupid lock."

Santana smiled gently.  "23-67-2." She turned the knob back and forth for a few seconds before popping it open and pulling the door. "See? Not so bad. Just remember the numbers. I though you had it on your hand."

The blond meekly began pulling her equipment out of the bright red locker, slinging her gym bag over her shoulder.  "I washed it off," she mumbled. She took out the rest of her items before moving aside, making room for Santana to gather her things. "Sorry."

Santana chuckled, pulling out her bag and re-locking the locker. "It's fine. What are friends for?" They giggled, linking pinkies and strolling out the locker room. 

"So," Brittany started, letting their arms swing naturally as they walked, "are you gonna do the talent show? I bet you'd win. You have a really good voice. Kind of like Rihanna, but less annoying."

Santana threw her head back. "Thanks, Brit," she laughed, running her hand against the lockers as they slowly made their way down the hall, getting closer to the exit.  "You should enter, too. Do some really sexy dance number."

"I know a few dances I wouldn't mind seeing you do, baby."

Santana groaned, pulling her hand from Brittany's and turning to give Karofsky a piece of her mind. "Listen, jacka-"

"Dancing isn't the only thing I can do." She turned, surprised that Brittany had spoken up.

Karofsky laughed, smirking. "Oh, really? Because the last time I checked, the only thing you were good at was being a whore and prancing around in the short skirt of yours," he gestured to her legs, eyes lingering a little too long for Santana's liking.

"That's not true," Brittany retorted. "I can play the guitar."

"What?" Santana and Karofsky responded in unison, looks of bewilderment on their faces.

Brittany looked between the two of them. "Yeah, I do."

Santana's face remained the same as Karofsky choked on his laughter. "Do you even know what a guitar is?"

Santana's face softened as Brittany eyes narrowed. "Yes! It's the brown thingy...with the strings. Right, San?" The darker girl could only nod.

The jock just shook his head. "Man, it's a damn good thing you're hot."

"The talent show!" Brittany's face lit up. "I could play it at the talent show. Yeah, I should sign up. Yeah..." The two watched, again with bewilderment as Brittany tilted her head to the side, lost in her own little world.

Karofsky frowned. "Her body always makes me forget how damn weird she is." He gave Brittany a strange look as she rocked back and forth on her feet, clearly not focused on reality, before pushing past them.

"Brit, Brit! Come on, let's go." Santana warily grabbed Brittany's arm, gently leading her down the rest of the hallway, chuckling at the faint smile on her best friend's face.


*_*_*_*


"So, she's really performing?"

Santana groaned, rolling here eyes again. "Yes, for the last time, she is performing. Can you guys just get over it already?"

The rest of the club looked at each other, not wanting to anger the cheerleader. But Kurt wasn't having it.

"Do you even know if she can play? What if she goes up there and makes a complete fool of herself. She'll be more of a joke than people already think she is."

Santana shot up, eyes brooding.  "Listen, Hummel. Brittany may not be the brightest person, but she's never given me a reason to not trust or support her.  If she wants to go up there, I will stand behind her 100%. I don't care if she's great or terrible, I will have her back because someone has to and it doesn't seem like any of you are willing."

Kurt's sneer faltered as Santana's glare cut right through him. It seemed like the entire gymnasium has grown quiet during Santana's rant.  The boy leaned back, crossing his legs and pursing his lips, figners entwined in his lap neatly.

Santana, taking this as a sign of defeat, shot a fake smile at him, before turning around and returning to her spot on the bleachers. The buzz in the room slowly returned as students chattered, some with excitement, others with dullness laced in their voices. 

Santana sighed, checking her phone a few times, replying to a few texts and tapping her foot impatiently before her phone buzzed again.

Look up

"What," she muttered, looking around to finally notice Brittany, waving one arm enthusiastically, the other carefully holding what looked like a violin, the bow between her long fingers and her cell phone in the other.

"Wait, what? I thought she was playing the-" Santana turned, her glare easily returning. 

"Shut it, Hummel." Santana stood, climbing down the bleachers, students automatically giving her room to pass.

She couldn't help but smile as she came closer to Brittany, walking up the steps on the side of the stage. "Aren't you supposed to be backstage already?"

She giggled. "I am, but I just wanted to say hi again." She embraced Santana with a warm, one-armed hug.  "Wish me luck?"

"Of course," she replied, hugging her back. Brittany turned, heading backstage.  "Brittany, wait."

She turned, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Santana hesitated. "I thought you said you played the guitar?"

Brittany cocked her head and looked down at the violin in her hands. "I do. See?" She help up the violin, grinning. 

Santana just smiled. "Okay. Good luck."

"Thanks, San." Brittany's smiled widened as she turned again, moving past the thick red curtain. 

"Dear, God, please let this go down well," Santana prayed, throwing her head back.  This was not looking good.

*_*_*_*

"She thought the violin was a guitar, didn't she?"

Kurt smirked as Santana's dark eyes narrowed. "Fuck off. She'll be fine. I hope," she added quietly to herself.

Figgins came onto the stage and began his introduction, to which Sue made a few not-so-quiet remarks.

Then the first person performed, some random, lanky kid who was super flexible.  Freak, Santana thought, laughing to herself when Sue voiced her exact thoughts as the kid walked off stage.

Next was Becky Johnson was an adorable dance routine.  Even Santana cracked a few smiles and was grateful that no one seemed to make any rude comments towards it. Besides, who could? The Cheerio was adorable.

Naturally, people began losing interest and focus was quickly directed towards other activities such as texting or sucking face with their significant other.

That is, until Figgins introduced Brittany.

"Our next performer is one of our best Cheerios and dancers. She's also a member of the Glee club and celibacy club," (wolf whistles came from all over the gym). "Playing a piece on the guitar, here is Brittany Pierce."

The crowd politely clapped and giggled as Brittany came onstage, holding a violin. She frowned, looking around as people continued to laugh.

Dread pooled in the pit of Santana's stomach as she saw Brittany's face fall. She was not going to let her start crying on stage.

"Hey!" She stood on the bleachers, facing the rest of the crowd. "Shut the hell up and let her play! I didn't see any of you assholes get up there and try to do something."

"Ms. Lopez, that's enough," Figgins droned, not even looking up in her direction.

She scoffed at him, turning to see Brittany shoot a grateful smile at her.  She gave her a reassuring smile and sat again, crossing her fingers at her side and her toes in her white sneakers.

The blond fixed her posture, straightening her back and being her knees ever so slightly. She raised the bow to the strings before back tracking and lowering it again, moving the violin under her arm to tightening the hairs on the bow. She returned to the position again, sliding the bow easily across the strings, checking the pitch of each one.

"Hurry up," Puck yelled, earning a swift kick in the back from Santana. He turned, glaring at her. "Remind me to never sit near you again," he spat through gritted teeth.

She shushed him harshly, anxiously waiting for Brittany to begin. The Cheerio placed her bow on the string and took a deep breath before swiftly beginning.

Holy shit.

That was the only thought Santana could comprehend as she watched Brittany play, fingers swiftly moving across the neck. She rocked to the music, her bow making quick strides on the strings, the sound coming out clear and perfect.

She managed to take a moment to break her stare away from Brittany and noticed that everyone's reaction seemed to match hers. Finn was scratching his head, turning to Rachel to question if he was seeing correctly, only to have his girlfriend stop him, her face a mask of astonishment. Tina and Mike's mouth were both hanging open, Mercedes and Kurt were both wide eyed and Artie sat in his wheelchair, removing his glasses to rub his eyes and replacing them, only to finally realize his eyesight wasn't fooling him.

Santana stayed silent, her eyes fixated on Brittany, amazed at how easy she made it seem.  The way she looked so concentrated but still at complete ease. As the music moved to a more graceful section, Brittany's body rocked more naturally, swaying to the rhythm, arm moving more fluidly. The notes were more legato, the music softer as she conveyed the emotion of the song.

"Are her eyes closed?" Finn's voice cracked, his head shaking in amazement. Santana was fairly sure that he was going to pass out.

The music crescendoed again, delving into another round of fast paced notes, Brittany's control of the instrument astounding everyone.  It was as if it was another part of her body. As if it was just second nature to her.  It was easy to tell she'd been training for a very long time.

"Good Lord," Kurt muttered, holding a hand over his heart.  "Who would've thought?"

Mercedes nodded, dazed. "I know. Girl's got some serious talent."

The room was completely silent, minus Brittany's intense playing. Santana didn't even realize she was leaning forward in anticipation into her knee jabbed Puck in the back. He didn't even flinch.

She watched as the bow struck two strings at once, so forceful that one of the strings suddenly popped, now hanging from the scroll, completely useless. But the blond didn't even hesitate, continuing the song on one string instead. She leaned forward, playing furiously before her body visibly relaxed again as she played the final notes.

The crowd was stunned. Brittany stood on stage, biting her lower lip, her chest visibly heaving.  She smiled before finally noticing the broken string. It was if hse hadn't realized no one had applauded her.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Everyone turned to see Sam, sitting next to one of the jocks, slowly clapping his hands together, a boyish smile on his full lips. Slowly, others started to join in, and not before long, the entire gymnasium was filled with applause. Brittany, finally noticed the attention, looked up, eyes wide like a deer in headlight, before seeming to remember where she was. She smiled innocently, awkwardly curtsied and skipped offstage.

As the applause died down, the natural buzz of excitement returning, Santana felt a proud smirk form on her perfectly glossed lips. She turned towards the rest of the club. "And you all thought she couldn't pull it off."

Kurt nodded solemnly. "We stand corrected."

"Dude," Puck turned to Finn, eyes unfocused. "Is it me or did she just become ten times hotter?"

He was answered with a smack on the back of the head. "Damn it, Lopez!"

*_*_*_*
Tags: brittany, fanfic, fill, gen, glee, prompt
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