The Assassin

strawberry smoothie

(9:52 PM, Sunday, Domino's Pizza)

God, that gorgeous smile. Did she seriously deserve this? Santana's finger was shaking over the trigger, barely pushing any pressure on it, as she was beginning to get cold feet.

Blaine clenched his jaw, noticing the hesitation, "Santana?"

"Shut it, Grease Monkey."

"Santana, she's going to leave if you don't take the shot."

She was sweating profusely under her uniform, and she was sure that her forehead was coated in droplets of sweat. Just one shot. That's all she needed to take.

Blaine stepped closer towards her and sternly stated, "Take the damn shot, Santana."

She took a deep breath, and took one last look through her scope.

22 HOURS EARLIER

(11:33 PM, Saturday, Section 31 Headquarters)

Santana lazily stumbled through the entrance of their headquarters, shutting the door behind her as quietly as she could. She noticed that it was pitch black in the condo, considering it was relatively late, and everyone would usually be asleep or in their own rooms by now. She took a deep breath and tried to tiptoe her way past the kitchen and towards the staircase, when suddenly, all the lights turned on.

"Fuck! Goddamn-" Santana screamed.

She faced the living room, only to find Quinn and Puck eyeing her from the couch.

"Jesus, Fabray. You scared the crap outta me. Seriously, don't do that."

Quinn rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Really, Santana? You're going to play this game, now?"

Santana began to walk towards them, and she shook her head and replied, "What are you talking about, Q?"

Quinn stood up from the couch and began pacing back and forth throughout the living room.

"You're really going to yell at me, when all day today, you've been out, only God knows where. What in the hell, Santana? You need to explain yourself."

"I don't need to explain myself to you. You're not my fucking mom, Fabray."

Puck stood up and turned towards Santana saying, "Look, we're not trying to strangle you, alright? So cool it. But... you were out with that girl today, weren't you?"

Santana looked at the nearest wall, trying not to make eye contact with either of them.

Quinn folded her arms, breaking the silence, "Disneyland. Seriously? What are you, fucking five?"

"How did you-"

"It's HIVE, Santana. We have technology that shouldn't even exist. Phone tracking isn't exactly the hardest thing to figure out here," Puck cut in.

Santana scowled and replied to him saying, "It's none of your business, Puck. It's not any of yours either, Fabray. Look, I-I'm the team leader here. I don't need to explain my whereabouts to any of you, okay? Go to bed. This conversation is over. Both of you."

Quinn and Puck began to head towards the staircase when Quinn stopped and looked at Santana in the living room.

"You know, Santana? Blaine waited all day for you to pick him up. Puck and I watched our phones every second of today, just in case you'd call. Our team looks up to you, and I've supported you since day one of your leadership for 31, but this is some bullshit, San. If you're going to talk about yourself being a leader and shit, then start acting like one. Complete your mission, and prove yourself. Not for the team, but for your sake. Because I wouldn't snitch on you or anything, but I know Bosley wouldn't exactly appreciate what's going on here. Goodnight, Santana."