Fixing the Plumbing, Chapter 2
Title: Fixing the Plumbing
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Santana said it’s not cheating if the plumbing is different. So Brittany decided that if the plumbing is really different, then it’s really not cheating. And so Britt - er, Brett - was determined to meet Santana.
Spoilers: Through Original Song
Chapter 1
The whole drive over, Brittany was freaking out a little bit. What if she doesn't like him? she thought to herself. Or, worse, What if she laughs at me?
Brett, in the back of her head, just laughed and said, "Chill out, Britts, it'll be fine."
But of course he would say that - he was so cool and chill, like Santana but without the rage. He didn't know Santana like she did, didn't know how much her words could hurt, didn't know what it was like to see her laugh in someone's face. Brett didn't know how mean Santana could really be.
This also meant that he didn't know how sweet she could be, either - how she always gave Britt the crunchiest french fries when they fell off of Sue's master cleanse bandwagon together because Brittany liked the crispy ones best (though Brittany didn't understand why people called it a bandwagon, there was nothing about wagons or bands, and it wasn't even a real thing); how she loved to play with Brittan'y hair and how she was always so gentle when she did; how she always ended her texts "xx" even when they weren't talking about anything important or romantic or sexy or whatever.
That was Santana. The whole package. And Brett, surprising her by speaking aloud through Britt's mouth, said, "Sounds like my kind of girl."
All of this turmoil took place in probably five minutes, the time it took to drive to Lima Heights which, contrary to what Santana said to everyone, was a pretty nice neighborhood. And there was Santana's house, right at the end of the coldie-sack (if you told Brittany it was actually cul de sac she'd probably cry), beautiful and white and huge. (Santana never had to shoplift if she didn't want to, but Britt knew she liked doing it 'cause it was tough and cool and because she got a thrill from being bad.) And there was Brett again, laughing. Really, my kind of girl!
Brittany just smiled and parked the car, flipping down the visor and checking in the mirror. Brett was still a pretty hot guy, but he was hot in the sort of soft, Nick Carter/Backstreet Boys kind of way. Not at all like Puck in his rough, sort of dangerous way. No, Brett looked like the kind of guy you'd want your daughter to date, except maybe a little bit thinner. Hopefully that wouldn't work against him since Santana tended to go for bigger, hulkier guys like Puck and Finn and Sam and oh man, should she have made Brett a football player?
A couple of deep breaths later, Brett had calmed her down because there was no way he'd ever survive on a football field. Yeah he was fast and lean and stuff, but he'd get murdered under a tackle. Soccer was way safer.
Thanks, Brett.
No prob.
Okay. That meant it was time - like really time. But Britt wasn't sure she should go up and ring the doorbell, because what if Mrs. Lopez said something like "Santana doesn't want to see you, Brittany" because she wouldn't see Brett when she saw Britt's face? No, no doorbell, and no climbing up to Santana's room 'cause that'd be creepy and Brett wasn't creepy, he was cool.
That left calling and hoping Santana would answer. Britt's hands were shaking a little as she got her phone out of her purse - Brett objected to the purse with a loud I'm not carryin' that thing around! in the back of her head, so she got some cash from her wallet, stuck it and her chapstick in Brett's pockets, and then turned again to the phone in her lap. "Okay Brett, here goes..."
The phone rang...and rang...and Santana didn't pick up.
"Well shit," said Brett, and Brittany gasped at the language, clapping her hand over her mouth in shock for a moment before laughing, because Brett apparently had a mind of his own and it wasn't entirely in sync with hers since Brittany didn't really swear.
I guess it makes sense if you have two people living in one head, she thought to herself, and then went on a brief detour of what the inside of her head must look like right now, with Britt in her girly bed on one side and Brett in his dark man-bed on the other, both of them hanging out together - Brett laughing at stuff Brittany said, and Brittany being shocked by a lot of the things Brett said, thinking he must have picked up lots of bad habits from his friends at boarding school.
A glance down at her lap, and Britt remembered she was supposed to be trying to get a hold of Santana, so she took a deep breath and held it as her fingers started texting.
Come 2 the door plz? Brett wants 2 meet u.
Her thumb hit the send button and then she sat there, feeling light-headed, until she remembered she wasn't breathing and let out a huge gust of air all at once. This was it - this was the moment. Maybe, hopefully, curiosity would kill the cat and Santana would come out, only she hoped curiosity wouldn't kill Santana because then all of this would be for nothing anyway. "Please don't kill Santana," she said, glancing nervously at the front door of the Lopez family's house which remained closed.
"Please?" she whispered, and then, like magic (which Brittany supposed it was since she'd said the magic word), the door opened and there was Santana, looking kind of angry but then that was what she always looked like.
Good luck, Brett, she thought, and then Brett was getting out of the car and walking over to Santana with all of Brittany's fluidity and grace and Santana started shaking her head almost immediately.
"What the hell are you doing, Brittany?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and stopping Brett in his tracks.
"Brett wanted to meet you," said Brittany, remembering after she'd spoken what she was doing and what she looked like, so she lowered her voice to try again and Brett said, "I mean, Britt's told me a lot about you."
Santana didn't look any happier. She just stood there in the darkness on the front stoop backlit by the porch light wearing a Lopez Glare, and Brittany quailed a little bit inside since not even she was immune to the Glare.
"Look, I know it's weird but I figure it's better than nothing," Brett said, walking closer even though Brittany found she was kind of afraid.
"What are you trying to do here?" The judgment in Santana's voice was harsh, but at least she wasn't hurling insults. "You look like an idiot." Spoke too soon - there was an insult. Only...Santana never called her any of those names - stupid, dumb, retarded, idiot, and all the variations in between. In fact, she made it her business to take down anyone who tried to talk that way to Brittany. But here she was, calling Brittany an idiot, and it hurt. It hurt even more than Santana telling her about singing to Sam that one day before they got covered in dirt. It hurt more than breaking her arm at six - it hurt more, even, than it had hurt when someone told Brittany that the Tooth Fairy wasn't real and it was just her parents pretending.
The anguish showed on her face, and Brittany turned and started walking back to the car, only to have Brett pop into her head. She can't get away with that, Britts.
Brittany turned back around, the hurt fueling her words. "You're supposed to be the one who doesn't talk to me that way," she said, her voice quavering but coming out stronger as she spoke. "And I..." She swallowed, balling her fists up at her sides. "I won't let you talk to me that way either."
You say it, Britts! encouraged Brett, and Brittany took a deep breath before continuing.
"I didn't come here to have you talk down to me. This was supposed to be me coming to fix stuff and instead you just shove everything back in my face." Her eyes were starting to burn and Brett - Brett couldn't start out looking like a wimp crying in front of a girl, so she swallowed hard against the tears that were threatening.
Santana had the good sense to look stunned and apologetic, and she opened her mouth to speak but Brittany didn't let her, lowering her voice to Brett level again, raising her chin and standing up straighter. "Brittany deserves better than that." Better than you, he thought, but Brittany felt panic well up at that thought and squashed it down because who could possibly be better than Santana? Santana was her everything. Or her everything aside from Artie. Well, Artie was cool too, and she liked him a lot and he was really sweet and nice and funny and she didn't want to hurt his feelings or break her word because she'd told him she'd be his girlfriend and so she would be.
And that's what she was here for - and Brett, too.
Silence fell on them as Britt and Brett stared at Santana and Santana stared back. Then, quietly, Santana said, "I'm sorry, Britt-Britt. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything. It just...came out. I mean, look at you, you're like...all dressed up with nowhere to go."
Suddenly bashful, Brittany looked down at the ground, her face partially obscured by the darkness and Brett's hat hanging down just a little bit; she smiled, and Santana cracked, reaching out and tapping gently at the brim of the hat on Brittany's head, her expression so complex and layered that Brittany couldn't map it all. She got sadness and amusement and something that her heart compared to that day in the hallway and labeled as maybe love. But there was more there, more that Brittany couldn't understand - hurt, maybe? She wasn't sure.
"Can we try this again?" Santana asked.
Brittany nodded, looked back down at her feet, gathering her wits and Brett's wits about her and then looking back up, smiling as she held out her hand. "Brett Pierce."
Santana smiled back, taking Britt - Brett's - hand. "Santana Lopez."
"Brittany's told me a lot about you," Brett replied, not letting go of her hand.
"She hasn't talked about anything but you for the past week," Santana replied, and Brittany, in the back of Brett's head, was laughing and jumping up and down because this was a great game and she thought they were all winning.
"It's 'cause I'm so awesome," Brett replied, and Santana smiled and shook her head, trying to take her hand back but Brett held on.
"Hey, let go."
Brett shook his head. "Say you'll go out with me first."
The obvious What? moment flickered across Santana's face and Brittany stepped back in, taking Santana's hand in both of hers.
"It's the way out," she said, looking down at their hands. "Brett can be your boyfriend and I'll be Artie's girlfriend and then nobody will be cheating."
Stunned silence from Santana, who tried to take her hand back again, only this time Brittany let it go. "There are so many things wrong with this, you know that, right?" Santana said, crossing her arms again and this time Brittany could tell it was because she was scared. Not too many people could read Santana's scared face, but Brittany knew that glint in her eye and she knew the slight tenseness in her jaw and the way she wouldn't look Brittany in the eye. That was Santana's scared face.
"I know. It's weird. My boobs are all squished and I have too much hair and I can't help that I walk like a girl. I dunno if anyone will even believe it but I know if I have you with me it won't matter so much because everyone will be looking at you, not me...because you're beautiful, Santana."
In the darkness Brittany couldn't be sure, but she thought Santana was blushing.
"So will you go out with me?" Oops. "With Brett, I mean."
Santana smiled in that Oh, Brittany, kind of way and looked Brittany - Brett - up and down. "So long as he doesn't try and take me on any double dates with Wheels, I'm down. But I guess I'm off the hook on that one since you can't be two people at once."
Couldn't she? Wasn't she doing it right now? But...that was just with Santana. No, she supposed she couldn't be Brittany and Brett at the same time for anyone else. Nobody else could know that Brett was Britt. She nodded, looking very serious. "No double dates. Pinkie swear," she said, holding up her pinkie.
For a moment she thought Santana wouldn't buy it, but then she laughed and hooked her pinkie with Brittany's. "I hope you know what you're doing, Britt-Britt, 'cause this shit's crazy."
Brittany beamed back. "You won't regret it Santana, I promise." And then, lowering her voice to Brett-level, she added, "For real," and leaned forward to kiss her - but Santana let go of her pinkie and gave Britt a light smack on the cheek. "Hey!"
"You haven't even taken me out. I'm not gonna let you slide so easy," she said. "And don't think you're gettin' none of this," she added, waving her hand at her chest, "until you do somethin' right. Got it?"
"Got it," Brett answered, smiling Brittany's brilliant smile, and suddenly the night looked a little brighter.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Santana said it’s not cheating if the plumbing is different. So Brittany decided that if the plumbing is really different, then it’s really not cheating. And so Britt - er, Brett - was determined to meet Santana.
Spoilers: Through Original Song
Chapter 1
The whole drive over, Brittany was freaking out a little bit. What if she doesn't like him? she thought to herself. Or, worse, What if she laughs at me?
Brett, in the back of her head, just laughed and said, "Chill out, Britts, it'll be fine."
But of course he would say that - he was so cool and chill, like Santana but without the rage. He didn't know Santana like she did, didn't know how much her words could hurt, didn't know what it was like to see her laugh in someone's face. Brett didn't know how mean Santana could really be.
This also meant that he didn't know how sweet she could be, either - how she always gave Britt the crunchiest french fries when they fell off of Sue's master cleanse bandwagon together because Brittany liked the crispy ones best (though Brittany didn't understand why people called it a bandwagon, there was nothing about wagons or bands, and it wasn't even a real thing); how she loved to play with Brittan'y hair and how she was always so gentle when she did; how she always ended her texts "xx" even when they weren't talking about anything important or romantic or sexy or whatever.
That was Santana. The whole package. And Brett, surprising her by speaking aloud through Britt's mouth, said, "Sounds like my kind of girl."
All of this turmoil took place in probably five minutes, the time it took to drive to Lima Heights which, contrary to what Santana said to everyone, was a pretty nice neighborhood. And there was Santana's house, right at the end of the coldie-sack (if you told Brittany it was actually cul de sac she'd probably cry), beautiful and white and huge. (Santana never had to shoplift if she didn't want to, but Britt knew she liked doing it 'cause it was tough and cool and because she got a thrill from being bad.) And there was Brett again, laughing. Really, my kind of girl!
Brittany just smiled and parked the car, flipping down the visor and checking in the mirror. Brett was still a pretty hot guy, but he was hot in the sort of soft, Nick Carter/Backstreet Boys kind of way. Not at all like Puck in his rough, sort of dangerous way. No, Brett looked like the kind of guy you'd want your daughter to date, except maybe a little bit thinner. Hopefully that wouldn't work against him since Santana tended to go for bigger, hulkier guys like Puck and Finn and Sam and oh man, should she have made Brett a football player?
A couple of deep breaths later, Brett had calmed her down because there was no way he'd ever survive on a football field. Yeah he was fast and lean and stuff, but he'd get murdered under a tackle. Soccer was way safer.
Thanks, Brett.
No prob.
Okay. That meant it was time - like really time. But Britt wasn't sure she should go up and ring the doorbell, because what if Mrs. Lopez said something like "Santana doesn't want to see you, Brittany" because she wouldn't see Brett when she saw Britt's face? No, no doorbell, and no climbing up to Santana's room 'cause that'd be creepy and Brett wasn't creepy, he was cool.
That left calling and hoping Santana would answer. Britt's hands were shaking a little as she got her phone out of her purse - Brett objected to the purse with a loud I'm not carryin' that thing around! in the back of her head, so she got some cash from her wallet, stuck it and her chapstick in Brett's pockets, and then turned again to the phone in her lap. "Okay Brett, here goes..."
The phone rang...and rang...and Santana didn't pick up.
"Well shit," said Brett, and Brittany gasped at the language, clapping her hand over her mouth in shock for a moment before laughing, because Brett apparently had a mind of his own and it wasn't entirely in sync with hers since Brittany didn't really swear.
I guess it makes sense if you have two people living in one head, she thought to herself, and then went on a brief detour of what the inside of her head must look like right now, with Britt in her girly bed on one side and Brett in his dark man-bed on the other, both of them hanging out together - Brett laughing at stuff Brittany said, and Brittany being shocked by a lot of the things Brett said, thinking he must have picked up lots of bad habits from his friends at boarding school.
A glance down at her lap, and Britt remembered she was supposed to be trying to get a hold of Santana, so she took a deep breath and held it as her fingers started texting.
Come 2 the door plz? Brett wants 2 meet u.
Her thumb hit the send button and then she sat there, feeling light-headed, until she remembered she wasn't breathing and let out a huge gust of air all at once. This was it - this was the moment. Maybe, hopefully, curiosity would kill the cat and Santana would come out, only she hoped curiosity wouldn't kill Santana because then all of this would be for nothing anyway. "Please don't kill Santana," she said, glancing nervously at the front door of the Lopez family's house which remained closed.
"Please?" she whispered, and then, like magic (which Brittany supposed it was since she'd said the magic word), the door opened and there was Santana, looking kind of angry but then that was what she always looked like.
Good luck, Brett, she thought, and then Brett was getting out of the car and walking over to Santana with all of Brittany's fluidity and grace and Santana started shaking her head almost immediately.
"What the hell are you doing, Brittany?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and stopping Brett in his tracks.
"Brett wanted to meet you," said Brittany, remembering after she'd spoken what she was doing and what she looked like, so she lowered her voice to try again and Brett said, "I mean, Britt's told me a lot about you."
Santana didn't look any happier. She just stood there in the darkness on the front stoop backlit by the porch light wearing a Lopez Glare, and Brittany quailed a little bit inside since not even she was immune to the Glare.
"Look, I know it's weird but I figure it's better than nothing," Brett said, walking closer even though Brittany found she was kind of afraid.
"What are you trying to do here?" The judgment in Santana's voice was harsh, but at least she wasn't hurling insults. "You look like an idiot." Spoke too soon - there was an insult. Only...Santana never called her any of those names - stupid, dumb, retarded, idiot, and all the variations in between. In fact, she made it her business to take down anyone who tried to talk that way to Brittany. But here she was, calling Brittany an idiot, and it hurt. It hurt even more than Santana telling her about singing to Sam that one day before they got covered in dirt. It hurt more than breaking her arm at six - it hurt more, even, than it had hurt when someone told Brittany that the Tooth Fairy wasn't real and it was just her parents pretending.
The anguish showed on her face, and Brittany turned and started walking back to the car, only to have Brett pop into her head. She can't get away with that, Britts.
Brittany turned back around, the hurt fueling her words. "You're supposed to be the one who doesn't talk to me that way," she said, her voice quavering but coming out stronger as she spoke. "And I..." She swallowed, balling her fists up at her sides. "I won't let you talk to me that way either."
You say it, Britts! encouraged Brett, and Brittany took a deep breath before continuing.
"I didn't come here to have you talk down to me. This was supposed to be me coming to fix stuff and instead you just shove everything back in my face." Her eyes were starting to burn and Brett - Brett couldn't start out looking like a wimp crying in front of a girl, so she swallowed hard against the tears that were threatening.
Santana had the good sense to look stunned and apologetic, and she opened her mouth to speak but Brittany didn't let her, lowering her voice to Brett level again, raising her chin and standing up straighter. "Brittany deserves better than that." Better than you, he thought, but Brittany felt panic well up at that thought and squashed it down because who could possibly be better than Santana? Santana was her everything. Or her everything aside from Artie. Well, Artie was cool too, and she liked him a lot and he was really sweet and nice and funny and she didn't want to hurt his feelings or break her word because she'd told him she'd be his girlfriend and so she would be.
And that's what she was here for - and Brett, too.
Silence fell on them as Britt and Brett stared at Santana and Santana stared back. Then, quietly, Santana said, "I'm sorry, Britt-Britt. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything. It just...came out. I mean, look at you, you're like...all dressed up with nowhere to go."
Suddenly bashful, Brittany looked down at the ground, her face partially obscured by the darkness and Brett's hat hanging down just a little bit; she smiled, and Santana cracked, reaching out and tapping gently at the brim of the hat on Brittany's head, her expression so complex and layered that Brittany couldn't map it all. She got sadness and amusement and something that her heart compared to that day in the hallway and labeled as maybe love. But there was more there, more that Brittany couldn't understand - hurt, maybe? She wasn't sure.
"Can we try this again?" Santana asked.
Brittany nodded, looked back down at her feet, gathering her wits and Brett's wits about her and then looking back up, smiling as she held out her hand. "Brett Pierce."
Santana smiled back, taking Britt - Brett's - hand. "Santana Lopez."
"Brittany's told me a lot about you," Brett replied, not letting go of her hand.
"She hasn't talked about anything but you for the past week," Santana replied, and Brittany, in the back of Brett's head, was laughing and jumping up and down because this was a great game and she thought they were all winning.
"It's 'cause I'm so awesome," Brett replied, and Santana smiled and shook her head, trying to take her hand back but Brett held on.
"Hey, let go."
Brett shook his head. "Say you'll go out with me first."
The obvious What? moment flickered across Santana's face and Brittany stepped back in, taking Santana's hand in both of hers.
"It's the way out," she said, looking down at their hands. "Brett can be your boyfriend and I'll be Artie's girlfriend and then nobody will be cheating."
Stunned silence from Santana, who tried to take her hand back again, only this time Brittany let it go. "There are so many things wrong with this, you know that, right?" Santana said, crossing her arms again and this time Brittany could tell it was because she was scared. Not too many people could read Santana's scared face, but Brittany knew that glint in her eye and she knew the slight tenseness in her jaw and the way she wouldn't look Brittany in the eye. That was Santana's scared face.
"I know. It's weird. My boobs are all squished and I have too much hair and I can't help that I walk like a girl. I dunno if anyone will even believe it but I know if I have you with me it won't matter so much because everyone will be looking at you, not me...because you're beautiful, Santana."
In the darkness Brittany couldn't be sure, but she thought Santana was blushing.
"So will you go out with me?" Oops. "With Brett, I mean."
Santana smiled in that Oh, Brittany, kind of way and looked Brittany - Brett - up and down. "So long as he doesn't try and take me on any double dates with Wheels, I'm down. But I guess I'm off the hook on that one since you can't be two people at once."
Couldn't she? Wasn't she doing it right now? But...that was just with Santana. No, she supposed she couldn't be Brittany and Brett at the same time for anyone else. Nobody else could know that Brett was Britt. She nodded, looking very serious. "No double dates. Pinkie swear," she said, holding up her pinkie.
For a moment she thought Santana wouldn't buy it, but then she laughed and hooked her pinkie with Brittany's. "I hope you know what you're doing, Britt-Britt, 'cause this shit's crazy."
Brittany beamed back. "You won't regret it Santana, I promise." And then, lowering her voice to Brett-level, she added, "For real," and leaned forward to kiss her - but Santana let go of her pinkie and gave Britt a light smack on the cheek. "Hey!"
"You haven't even taken me out. I'm not gonna let you slide so easy," she said. "And don't think you're gettin' none of this," she added, waving her hand at her chest, "until you do somethin' right. Got it?"
"Got it," Brett answered, smiling Brittany's brilliant smile, and suddenly the night looked a little brighter.