We Caught Fire - Ch.1
Title: We Caught Fire
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: R
Pairings: Brittany/Santana. Mention of Brittany/Finn. Implied Santana/Rachel. Slight Puck/Quinn.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Warning: AU. Language. Femslash. Mature themes.
Author's Note: The plot for this greatly amuses me and not everything is as it seems.
Summary: The strange blonde wasn't really attempting to confront her over a carton of ice cream, right? Who in their right mind would do something like that?
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Brittany stared blindly at the large selection of ice cream before her. Brows furrowed above unseeing blue eyes, head canted in contemplation, and a small pout at her lips. She tugged at the dangling string of her cute little animal hat almost nervously. If she was aware of how odd the cute hat looked with her bright yellow sweatpants and oversized college sweatshirt she didn't show it. Despite her somewhat frumpy appearance, the blonde still managed to look beautiful. It was cute even. The mismatched outfit and pensive expression.
Brittany briefly wondered how she managed to make it to the grocery store at all, yet alone out of her front door, after weeks of confining herself within her apartment. The break up with her ex fiancé had left her in shambles and she'd spent every day sulking since despite her friends' efforts to get her to go out or talk about it or move on. Brittany had been almost content with her daily routine of laying in bed, crying her eyes out, and stuffing herself with unhealthy comfort food up until she ran out of rocky road ice cream. Her roommate, Noah Puckerman, had refused to help her “ruin her hot bod over some dumb jock" hence Brittany's impromptu trip to the grocery store. On some level Brittany knew her actions must seem pretty ridiculous but her wounded pride and broken heart skewered any attempt at logical thinking. She just felt broken all over. She felt like she'd been trampled on. Like the past five years of her life had been wasted. She'd invested so much into her relationship with Finn and then, just like that, months away from getting married he broke up with her. The break up had been out of nowhere for Brittany. She thought they were happy. She thought everything was going so well. That they were only months away from happily ever after. And she'd been content, almost ecstatic, up until Finn said the simple sentence that'd shattered it all.
“I think we should take a break.”
Brittany had only stared at him, wide eyed and mouth agape, until her brain finally processed the words that came out of her fiancé's mouth like a knife to her heart. The guilty expression that slipped across his face, the one that made him look like he had to poop really bad, had Brittany springing into action. She remembered jumping out of the bed they'd just finished making love in and scrambling to put her clothes back on. She'd been seething, enraged by his inconsiderate nature. Brittany remembered wondering if he'd planned to have sex with her before telling her he wanted to break it off or if the sex had been the deciding factor. She asked Finn just as much and his hesitance had only further infuriated her.
It made her angry all over again. Remembering the night that she and Finn broke up. She hated the angry feeling because she knew the crying would follow shortly after. It was like she wasn't in control of any of her stupid emotions and she hated it. The familiar prickle at her blue eyes snapped Brittany out of her reverie. She needed to grab the carton of rocky road she chanced going out in public for and she needed to get home ASAP. Brittany didn't know if she'd make it back to her apartment before she turned into a blubbering mess but her favorite frozen treat would be worth the humiliation.
Her attention refocused to the large freezer, gaze trailing along the rows of flavored before landing on the last carton of rocky road. Which was being pulled from its shelf in seemingly slow motion. The ice cream thief made it down the aisle toward the check out counter before Brittany, somewhere between panicked distraught and crazed, regained the functionality needed to chase the culprit. It was her rocky road ice cream. She needed it to stay sane. She strode toward the drop dead gorgeous brunette (not that Brittany noticed in her delusional state) a deep frown marring her otherwise pleasant features.
"Hey!"
The brunette turned to Brittany with an arched brow. "Excuse me?"
"This," Brittany snatched the carton away from the shorter woman. "Is mine."
To Brittany's surprise and utter disbelief the other woman had the gall to snatch the carton back. Turning it over in her hands before offering the blonde a grin. "Hm. I don't see your name anywhere on it."
If Brittany was paying attention she might have noticed the amused glimmer in the woman's sparkling chocolate colored eyes and the flirtatious lilt to her voice. She might have realized the woman's response was an obvious ploy at getting her name. As it was, the blonde remained oblivious and fully intent on leaving the store with the carton of rocky road goodness being held hostage by the brunette. She reached for the carton again only to have it moved out of her reach by the other woman.
Santana had initially been startled and then immediately intrigued by the pretty blonde although she was becoming increasingly apprehensive of the other woman’s strange behavior. The strange blonde wasn't really attempting to confront her over a carton of ice cream, right? Who in their right mind would do something like that?
Brittany lunged for the carton and pulled, trying unsuccessfully to tear the carton away from Santana. "Just give it to me!"
Santana's eyes widened at the blonde's actions and she instinctively tightened her grip while simultaneously taking a step away from the blonde. "Are you serious?"
The blonde merely responded with another harsh tug.
Santana's reaction was pure reflex, she would later lament that she wasn't thinking of the repercussions, but not letting go of the carton seemed like the most logical thing to do. She never intended to get into an impromptu tug-o-war with a complete, and quite possibly insane, stranger. Over a carton of ice cream none the less. Granted, it was rocky road. Rachel's favorite. She couldn't show up to Rachel's apartment empty handed.
Brittany couldn't believe the other woman wasn't letting go. Couldn't believe the brunette was actually fighting her. Brittany could barely believe she was fighting with a stranger over ice cream with a frightened cashier and a crowd of wide eyed shoppers watching them. The rational part of her, or what little was left of it, reasoned that she was in a highly emotional state of mind and simply couldn't control her impulses. It also noted, internally horrified, that people were not only staring or shielding their children from the sight but a few had taken to placing bets. She also vaguely noted that the cashier had finally fallen out of his stupor and into action, his frantic voice calling for security over the crackly PA system.
It was the cover page of the magazine on the check out stand that finally snapped Brittany out of it. Her grip on the carton grew lax; she didn't pay any mind as it slipped from her grasp all together. How could she spare an ounce of attention toward a stupid carton of ice cream when right there on a shelf in a freaking grocery store very much in public was a magazine with a picture of her recent ex fiancé and his new lover who, apparently, was a rising star? She couldn’t care less. The only thing she could register at the moment was the fact that Finn had apparently moved on in the two weeks they’d been broken up.
Santana, who had given a powerful tug at the same moment Brittany let go, flew backwards. Crashing into a display of canned beans. On the brink of losing consciousness, she faintly realized she'd won the idiotic little game. She also realized the blonde was grabbing a magazine off of the check out rack and throwing a few crumpled bills at the frightened cashier. The last thing she saw before the searing pain in her arm made her lose consciousness was the strange blonde practically bolting out of store.
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Santana made her way from her office building to her car. She almost didn't hear her cell phone ringing over the hustle and bustle of the crowded street. Without breaking her purposeful stride, Santana briefly struggled to pull her cell phone from her purse using her only good arm. The incident with the crazed blonde woman at the grocery store had left her with her arm in a sling. The doctor had explained that it was just a mild sprain though she shouldn't over exert herself. She fumbled with the phone, swiping her thumb across the screen the answer the call and nearly dropping the thing in the process. The last thing she needed was to break her brand new cell phone after the week she'd had. Her old phone was broken during her little shopping incident and transferring all of her data over to the new phone had been a complete bitch. It didn't help that once she'd gotten the damn thing set up the first message she received was a link to a video someone had taken of Santana and the crazed blonde fighting over the carton of rocky road ice cream.
"You better not be calling to bug me about that dance class, Mike."
She received a soft chuckle. "What's the excuse this time? You're working late at the office? You have a meeting with an important client? Or is Rachel hogging all of your free time as usual?"
"No, no, and you know Rachel has first dibs." Santana rolled her eyes, a soft smile taking her lips. A jolt of pain shot through her arm when someone bumped into her as they rushed past and her smile faded into a frown.
"So it is a Rachel thing then? And here I was, trying to set you up with a friend of mine who you were supposed to meet last week but couldn't because Rachel-"
"It's not Rachel, although thank you for so subtly suggesting she's the reason I haven't been dating. You know she has nothing to do with it."
Mike had to hold himself back from saying he knew for a fact that Rachel most definitely had something to do with it. Her and the shit storm of a break up. "I just thought it would be good for you to meet someone new."
"I know and I will definitely take you up on your offer as soon as my arm heals. The doctor said it was just a sprain but I shouldn't push it."
"You hurt your arm? What happened?"
Santana chuckled wryly before recanting the horror story to Mike. She told him about the crazed but cute blonde. Told him about the debacle with the ice cream carton and how she'd ended up colliding with a display of canned beans when the blonde presumably snapped out of her crazed stupor and ran. "That, if you can believe it, is what happened."
A peel of boisterous laughter emitted from Mike, causing Santana to pull the phone away from her ear. The brunette huffed as she waited for her friend's laughter to die down. When Mike finally calmed himself enough to speak his tone was set somewhere between amused and taunting. "I knew the brunette in that YouTube video Mercedes sent me looked familiar. I can barely believe you actually fought with some stranger over ice cream, Santana."
"I can barely believe it myself. I just hope I never run into that chick again. She was seriously deranged. I even changed grocery stores which totally sucks because it's literally right down the street from my apartment."
"Come on, what are the chances you'd run into her again. We live in a big city." Mike reasoned comfortingly. "And if your luck is really that bad-"
The sound of his voice was cut off immediately upon the impact of another body crashing in to Santana. Santana reached out blindly, managing to steady both herself and the other person despite the painful throbbing at her injured arm. Dropping her phone completely in the process. Her wide brown eyes landed upon the taller woman and she scowled. Her luck must have been horrible because standing right in front of her was the crazed blonde woman from the market. Santana scowled, two seconds away from ripping the other woman a new one. Vicious brown eyes met shimmering blue and Santana's heart stopped. Her brutal glare softening considerably. There were huge, wet tears in the blonde's eyes and the puffy redness around them had Santana deducing that the woman had been crying for quite some time. There was pain, callous and heartbreaking, swirling in those blue eyes. The bluest most beautiful eyes Santana had ever looked into. The brunette couldn't help thinking no girl that beautiful should have so much pain in her eyes.
Before Santana could force herself out of her stupor, before she could gain back the basic motor functions she needed to attempt speech, the mysterious blonde woman had taken a step back. Slipping out of Santana's hold and she rushing away with a strained barely audible. "Sorry."
Santana simply stared after her, dumbfounded, for the briefest of moments before moving to chase after the blonde. The sound of her expensive new phone cracking beneath the heel of her pumps thwarted the action. Santana stared down at the broken device. The look of worry and determination holding her features morphed slowly into one of unbridled rage. She was sincerely hoping she never ran into that woman ever again. The crazed, mysterious, beautiful blonde only seemed to bring her bad luck.
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"C'mon, Britt! Open up!" Puck tapped another useless knock upon his roommate's bedroom door. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Brittany out of her room and it was seriously beginning to worry him. He was even been forced to call in reinforcements.
"Brittany, sweetie," Quinn spoke softly, sternly, against the closed door. Sparing an accusatory glare at Puck as though the dark haired man was the cause of Brittany's confinement. "You can't stay in there forever. At some point you'll have to come out and talk."
A muffled and sniffle-y, "I don't want to talk!" followed by a clearer, "Just go away!" sounded from inside of the room.
"Quinn is the one the wants to talk!" Puck took the opportunity to clarify. Doubling his efforts to coax Brittany out. "I wanna take you out, get you so drunk you can't see straight, and help you score some-"
"Noah!" Quinn scowled at the man, swatting admonishingly at his bicep. "The last thing she needs to do is have a drunken hook up with a random stranger. She needs to talk about what happened with Finn."
"I don't want to do either of those things!" Brittany's muffled yell sounded again. "Will both of you just leave me alone!"
Puck ran a hand through his mohawk and sighed. Sparing an irritated glance at Quinn from the corner of his eye. "The last thing Britt needs is you forcing her to talk about that douche. He's already hooking up with some hot actress or whatever which is complete bull because there should be a law or something about a dude like that getting chicks that hot."
Quinn huffed in pure annoyance before settling a scathing glare upon Puck, a glare reserved especially for him. "Finn is a decent guy. Him and Britt just had a minor falling out, they'll be back together and happy again once she gets out of this funk."
"You're kidding, right?" He leveled her with an arched brow, incredulous. "You seriously want them to get back together after the shit he pulled?"
"And what exactly would be wrong with that? They've been together for years. They love each other. They'll have a happy life together."
Pick scoffed at the look of determination and self-reassurance written plainly across Quinn's pretty features. "Are you saying that because you really believe they belong together? Or is that what you tell yourself when you realize you're not happy with Bleach Boy."
Her features hardened, hazel green eyes cutting through Puck. It wasn't the fist time he'd insulted her relationship. At least she wasn't like him. At least she found someone who could tolerate her long enough to stay in a relationship with her. All Puck had were countless flings and less than a handful of horrible ex girlfriends. She couldn't recall him having one steady relationship in all the time they'd been acquainted. "I'm very happy with Sam and for the last time, Noah, he doesn't dye his hair."
"There's no way that kinda blonde is-"
"Can you guys go fight about Sam's hair somewhere else?" Brittany popped her head out of her bedroom door. "You're giving me a headache."
Puck's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the heartbroken blonde. She looked like something out of a horror story and he didn't even want to know how that piece of tissue was sticking to her sweatshirt. "Dude... you look like crap."
"Noah!" Quinn slapped at his arm for the second time.
"What?" He spared an exasperated stare at Quinn. Did she seriously have to hit him every time he said something she deemed inappropriate? "I can't have a hot wing woman if she looks like she got hit by a-"
"Brittany isn't going to be your 'wing woman', she's going to work things out with Fi-"
"Both of you just..." Brittany blanched at both of her friends' suggestions. She didn't want a fling and she most definitely didn't want to rekindle her romance with Finn Hudson. "Stop. I don't want Finn back, I just," Brittany rubbed at her throbbing temples, trying and failing to hold back a fresh bout of tears. "It's been, like, two weeks and he's already dating someone else. If anything I just want to make him feel as horrible as I feel."
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Brittany tried, quite unsuccessfully, to pry herself out of her Quinn and Puck’s tight grasps. Her two best friends were practically forcing her into the packed club. Puck on her right with his meaty arm draped over her shoulders and Quinn with her arm looped through Brittany’s. Resistance, it seemed, was futile. The two rarely agreed on anything. Especially when it came to Brittany. Unluckily for the heart broken blonde both of her friends had agreed that she needed a “fun night out”. What they didn’t agree on was how Brittany’s night would end. Puck was still intent on having Brittany be his wing woman and finding her a hot hook up for the night. He claimed that the blonde was in dire need of something uncomplicated and purely physical to get over the break up. Quinn, however, simply wanted Brittany to have a nice night out. Expectation free. She firmly believed Brittany didn’t need a new relationship, however fleeting, to help her get over Finn. It’d taken Brittany hours of convincing for Quinn to accept that she truly didn’t want to get back with her ex.
“Guys,” Brittany whined, giving her friends the most pathetic look she could muster. “I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”
“The only way you’re leaving is with a stranger to take home and have your way with.” Puck shot her his signature grin, steering them further into the club.
Quinn rolled her eyes at his idiocy, giving Brittany’s arm a squeeze and directing a sweet smile at the other blonde. “Don’t listen to him. We’re just here to dance, maybe have a drink or two, and who knows? Maybe you’ll run into a cute guy to flirt with. No pressure, Britt.”
“That’s bull. Don’t listen to her.” The dark haired man started leading them toward the dance floor. He knew Brittany loved dancing. It was her life. If he could get her out onto the dance floor, a little alcohol and an interested party would do the rest. He hated seeing his usually chipper friend so down in the dumps. Plus, she was totally cramping his style. He couldn’t count all the times Brittany managed to sabotage his hook ups over the past couple of weeks. Chicks so didn’t dig having sex while his roommate was bawling in the next room. The sooner Brittany was back to her old self, preferably the pre-Finn self because she was ten times more entertaining, the better. “All you need is some hot-”
Their trek toward the dance floor was halted by a glaring Quinn tugging Brittany in the opposite direction. “Seriously, Noah. Is sex the only thing you think about? Brittany just had her heart broken. She doesn’t need-”
“What she doesn’t need is advice from you. Last time I checked, princess, you’ve been living in a fairytale with Prince Trouty Mouth for half your life. You don’t know what someone needs after a break up.”
“And you do? The guy who prides himself on being a complete man whore. As far as I know you’ve never been in an actual committed relationship.” She let go of Brittany’s arm to set her hands on her hips, glaring at the man before her. “So what makes you the expert?”
“For your information, babe, I have been in an,” He switched into a high pitched voice in order to imitate the glaring blonde. Unhooking his arms from around Brittany’s shoulders to cross them over his chest. “Actual committed relationship and I know a shit ton about heart break and how to make it go away.”
Brittany sighed heavily. Rolling her blue eyes in pure exasperation at her friends’ antics. Their constant bickering was getting super old. She wondered how much longer it was going to take them to admit they were in love with each other. The thought disappeared instantly when she realized she was free from their death grips. Her gaze grazed over the exit, landing on the crowded bar. Maybe Puck had the right idea. Not about the random hook up but the getting plastered until she couldn’t see straight part. The notion did seem tempting. And dancing a bit didn’t sound that bad. She caught the attention of her friends mid argument and motioned toward the bar. “I’m going to get something to drink.”
The bickering pair barely paid any mind to her statement. They simply continued with their catty insults and angry flirting as Brittany headed for the bar. After she managed to squeeze herself past a few rowdy patrons she tried to flag down the bartender. One of the rowdy patrons knocked into her back, forcing her to crash into a short brunette in front of her. Consequently spilling the dark haired woman’s drink all over the both of them.
Santana had finally escaped Mike’s clutches for the first time of the night. He was attempting to con Santana into meeting the someone new they’d talked about just a few days ago. She appreciated his concern, she really did. She just wasn’t ready to start dating again. So what if the break up had been over a year ago and Santana had busied herself with work and family. She had listened to Mike rant and rave about how gorgeous the woman was, how she was Santana’s type, and how they would be perfect for each other. How Santana should follow Rachel’s example and find love. She simply had to get away from the conversation after that. Excusing herself to get another drink at the bar had seemed like the perfect idea up until her drink, and her still sore arm, was being squished between herself and another body. Her beverage spilling all over her favorite skin tight red dress and onto the sexy black halter top the other woman was wearing.
“What the-” Santana was a second away from chewing out the idiot that knocked into her. Dark, furious glare shifting from her damp clothing to her assailant’s face. When she found familiar sapphire eyes staring apologetically down at her she cursed her luck. It was like the cosmos were mocking her.
“I’m so sorry.” Brittany’s brows furrowed and she chewed anxiously at her bottom lip. She faintly noted that the brunette looked familiar. She’d been having bad luck with running into pretty brunettes at the worse possible times.
Santana acknowledged the blonde’s apology with an annoyed grunt and a forced smile before turning back toward the bar. Intent on getting herself another, stronger, drink and getting as far away from the blonde as quickly as physically possible. The last thing she needed was another injury attributed to the crazed, though she appeared significantly more docile at the moment, woman.
Brittany, feeling terrible about the incident, ordered two shots of tequila from the bartender. Sliding one in front of the clearly upset brunette. “I really am sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Santana offered the other woman a curt smile before walking (practically running) away.
Brittany shrugged off the nagging feeling that she’d seen the brunette somewhere before and downed the shot in front of her. She ordered two more shots before heading back toward her friends who were no longer arguing. They also seemed to be wearing matching expressions, a mixture of curiosity and worry.
“So,” Quinn smiled sweetly at the other blonde. “Did you get her name?”
“Who?”
Puck chuckled, his patented grin across his lips. “The hot chick you were just flirting with at the bar.”
“What hot chick?” The confused crinkle at Brittany’s brow had Puck gaping at her.
Quinn arched a perfectly sculpted brow at her friend. “The one you bought a drink for?”
“Oh,” Brittany shrugged. “I didn’t flirt with her.”
“Dude!” Puck’s eyes were nearly bulging out of his skull. Brittany had to be freaking blind not to notice how hot that chick was. He sighed in defeat when Brittany merely stared at him with utter confusion. His gaze moved to the shots in the blonde’s hands. Alcohol would make everything better. “Well, at least you bought the first round.”
“What do you mean?” She downed the shot in her right hand. “These are for me.” The statement was followed with Brittany downing the second shot. She was starting to feel the buzz from the shot she’d had at the bar. It made her skin prickle and her head fuzzy and her body hum. “I wanna dance.”
Her friends were left to stare inquisitively after her as she disappeared into the crowd of writhing bodies. Puck turned to Quinn with an apprehensive smile. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?”
“It was your idea.” Quinn shot back.
And thus the bickering continued.
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Brittany was lost in the beat of the music, enjoying the release that came with dancing. All of her thoughts were drowned out by the music. Her body moving instinctively, thrashing and rocking and pulsing to the sound. She closed her eyes. Surrendering to the feel. The songs changed, the beat slowing and quickening, while her worries simply slipped away.
After what felt like forever, Brittany felt someone brushing against her. Moving with her, chasing the harsh beat. Without a second thought she grabbed a hold of the mystery person and kept dancing. The feel of the warm body against her adding to her oblivion. She felt her dance partner stiffen for the briefest of seconds before they were both writhing together again, closer than before. Brittany twirled around, pressing herself against the front of the woman behind her. She’d deduced from the soft swell of breasts pressing against her back and the soft skin beneath her fingertips that her dance partner was most definitely a woman.
Brittany could feel the woman’s hot breath rushing against her ear, carrying a sultry sound that made her shiver. The woman’s voice was a sultry rasp that had her stomach coiling and that spot between her legs aching with anticipation. She could barely focus on the lyrics her dance partner was practically moaning against her ear. Something about teasing, wanting, needing. Then the woman was spinning Brittany around to face her. Dark chocolate eyes staring up into swirling blue. Brittany vaguely realized she was dancing with the brunette she ran into at the bar. She also realized that Puck was right, the woman was hot. Her darkening gaze flickered to the brunette’s lips and she wondered how they would feel against her own. Wondered if they would feel better than the teasing grind of the brunette’s body against hers. Wondered if kissing the other woman would quell the worsening ache in the pit of her stomach. If kissing a complete stranger would rid her of the lingering malice she felt for Finn and his ability to forget her so quickly. If he could move on, so could she.
They were dancing so close, pressed so intimately against one another that Brittany was able to close the barely there space between their lips before she could talk herself out of it. Before her conscious could kick in, sounding a hell of a lot like Quinn, and force her to second guess the action. Brittany didn’t expect the tingles that shot through her when their lips met. She didn’t expect the way her heart seemed to pause for an entire elongated beat before hammering erratically beneath her chest or the way her stomach was flipping like it was housing an Olympic gymnast. And she most definitely did not expect the uncomfortable ache to worsen when the other woman started kissing her back. She didn’t expect to feel it in her bones the way she was. She hadn’t expected to feel much more than a pleasant tingle. But at that moment she felt a whole lot more than she thought she would and it was scaring her shitless. So she ran. From the feeling. From the mysterious super sexy brunette. From the voice in her head, that sounded far too much like Puck, telling her a hot chick with a dizzying kiss was exactly what she needed to help her move on.
Santana, who was left completely bewildered by the blonde’s sudden exit, stood frozen in the middle of the dance floor wondering how in the hell she’d ended up making out with the crazed blonde woman she’d fought with over a carton of ice cream less than a week ago.
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: R
Pairings: Brittany/Santana. Mention of Brittany/Finn. Implied Santana/Rachel. Slight Puck/Quinn.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Warning: AU. Language. Femslash. Mature themes.
Author's Note: The plot for this greatly amuses me and not everything is as it seems.
Summary: The strange blonde wasn't really attempting to confront her over a carton of ice cream, right? Who in their right mind would do something like that?
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Brittany stared blindly at the large selection of ice cream before her. Brows furrowed above unseeing blue eyes, head canted in contemplation, and a small pout at her lips. She tugged at the dangling string of her cute little animal hat almost nervously. If she was aware of how odd the cute hat looked with her bright yellow sweatpants and oversized college sweatshirt she didn't show it. Despite her somewhat frumpy appearance, the blonde still managed to look beautiful. It was cute even. The mismatched outfit and pensive expression.
Brittany briefly wondered how she managed to make it to the grocery store at all, yet alone out of her front door, after weeks of confining herself within her apartment. The break up with her ex fiancé had left her in shambles and she'd spent every day sulking since despite her friends' efforts to get her to go out or talk about it or move on. Brittany had been almost content with her daily routine of laying in bed, crying her eyes out, and stuffing herself with unhealthy comfort food up until she ran out of rocky road ice cream. Her roommate, Noah Puckerman, had refused to help her “ruin her hot bod over some dumb jock" hence Brittany's impromptu trip to the grocery store. On some level Brittany knew her actions must seem pretty ridiculous but her wounded pride and broken heart skewered any attempt at logical thinking. She just felt broken all over. She felt like she'd been trampled on. Like the past five years of her life had been wasted. She'd invested so much into her relationship with Finn and then, just like that, months away from getting married he broke up with her. The break up had been out of nowhere for Brittany. She thought they were happy. She thought everything was going so well. That they were only months away from happily ever after. And she'd been content, almost ecstatic, up until Finn said the simple sentence that'd shattered it all.
“I think we should take a break.”
Brittany had only stared at him, wide eyed and mouth agape, until her brain finally processed the words that came out of her fiancé's mouth like a knife to her heart. The guilty expression that slipped across his face, the one that made him look like he had to poop really bad, had Brittany springing into action. She remembered jumping out of the bed they'd just finished making love in and scrambling to put her clothes back on. She'd been seething, enraged by his inconsiderate nature. Brittany remembered wondering if he'd planned to have sex with her before telling her he wanted to break it off or if the sex had been the deciding factor. She asked Finn just as much and his hesitance had only further infuriated her.
It made her angry all over again. Remembering the night that she and Finn broke up. She hated the angry feeling because she knew the crying would follow shortly after. It was like she wasn't in control of any of her stupid emotions and she hated it. The familiar prickle at her blue eyes snapped Brittany out of her reverie. She needed to grab the carton of rocky road she chanced going out in public for and she needed to get home ASAP. Brittany didn't know if she'd make it back to her apartment before she turned into a blubbering mess but her favorite frozen treat would be worth the humiliation.
Her attention refocused to the large freezer, gaze trailing along the rows of flavored before landing on the last carton of rocky road. Which was being pulled from its shelf in seemingly slow motion. The ice cream thief made it down the aisle toward the check out counter before Brittany, somewhere between panicked distraught and crazed, regained the functionality needed to chase the culprit. It was her rocky road ice cream. She needed it to stay sane. She strode toward the drop dead gorgeous brunette (not that Brittany noticed in her delusional state) a deep frown marring her otherwise pleasant features.
"Hey!"
The brunette turned to Brittany with an arched brow. "Excuse me?"
"This," Brittany snatched the carton away from the shorter woman. "Is mine."
To Brittany's surprise and utter disbelief the other woman had the gall to snatch the carton back. Turning it over in her hands before offering the blonde a grin. "Hm. I don't see your name anywhere on it."
If Brittany was paying attention she might have noticed the amused glimmer in the woman's sparkling chocolate colored eyes and the flirtatious lilt to her voice. She might have realized the woman's response was an obvious ploy at getting her name. As it was, the blonde remained oblivious and fully intent on leaving the store with the carton of rocky road goodness being held hostage by the brunette. She reached for the carton again only to have it moved out of her reach by the other woman.
Santana had initially been startled and then immediately intrigued by the pretty blonde although she was becoming increasingly apprehensive of the other woman’s strange behavior. The strange blonde wasn't really attempting to confront her over a carton of ice cream, right? Who in their right mind would do something like that?
Brittany lunged for the carton and pulled, trying unsuccessfully to tear the carton away from Santana. "Just give it to me!"
Santana's eyes widened at the blonde's actions and she instinctively tightened her grip while simultaneously taking a step away from the blonde. "Are you serious?"
The blonde merely responded with another harsh tug.
Santana's reaction was pure reflex, she would later lament that she wasn't thinking of the repercussions, but not letting go of the carton seemed like the most logical thing to do. She never intended to get into an impromptu tug-o-war with a complete, and quite possibly insane, stranger. Over a carton of ice cream none the less. Granted, it was rocky road. Rachel's favorite. She couldn't show up to Rachel's apartment empty handed.
Brittany couldn't believe the other woman wasn't letting go. Couldn't believe the brunette was actually fighting her. Brittany could barely believe she was fighting with a stranger over ice cream with a frightened cashier and a crowd of wide eyed shoppers watching them. The rational part of her, or what little was left of it, reasoned that she was in a highly emotional state of mind and simply couldn't control her impulses. It also noted, internally horrified, that people were not only staring or shielding their children from the sight but a few had taken to placing bets. She also vaguely noted that the cashier had finally fallen out of his stupor and into action, his frantic voice calling for security over the crackly PA system.
It was the cover page of the magazine on the check out stand that finally snapped Brittany out of it. Her grip on the carton grew lax; she didn't pay any mind as it slipped from her grasp all together. How could she spare an ounce of attention toward a stupid carton of ice cream when right there on a shelf in a freaking grocery store very much in public was a magazine with a picture of her recent ex fiancé and his new lover who, apparently, was a rising star? She couldn’t care less. The only thing she could register at the moment was the fact that Finn had apparently moved on in the two weeks they’d been broken up.
Santana, who had given a powerful tug at the same moment Brittany let go, flew backwards. Crashing into a display of canned beans. On the brink of losing consciousness, she faintly realized she'd won the idiotic little game. She also realized the blonde was grabbing a magazine off of the check out rack and throwing a few crumpled bills at the frightened cashier. The last thing she saw before the searing pain in her arm made her lose consciousness was the strange blonde practically bolting out of store.
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Santana made her way from her office building to her car. She almost didn't hear her cell phone ringing over the hustle and bustle of the crowded street. Without breaking her purposeful stride, Santana briefly struggled to pull her cell phone from her purse using her only good arm. The incident with the crazed blonde woman at the grocery store had left her with her arm in a sling. The doctor had explained that it was just a mild sprain though she shouldn't over exert herself. She fumbled with the phone, swiping her thumb across the screen the answer the call and nearly dropping the thing in the process. The last thing she needed was to break her brand new cell phone after the week she'd had. Her old phone was broken during her little shopping incident and transferring all of her data over to the new phone had been a complete bitch. It didn't help that once she'd gotten the damn thing set up the first message she received was a link to a video someone had taken of Santana and the crazed blonde fighting over the carton of rocky road ice cream.
"You better not be calling to bug me about that dance class, Mike."
She received a soft chuckle. "What's the excuse this time? You're working late at the office? You have a meeting with an important client? Or is Rachel hogging all of your free time as usual?"
"No, no, and you know Rachel has first dibs." Santana rolled her eyes, a soft smile taking her lips. A jolt of pain shot through her arm when someone bumped into her as they rushed past and her smile faded into a frown.
"So it is a Rachel thing then? And here I was, trying to set you up with a friend of mine who you were supposed to meet last week but couldn't because Rachel-"
"It's not Rachel, although thank you for so subtly suggesting she's the reason I haven't been dating. You know she has nothing to do with it."
Mike had to hold himself back from saying he knew for a fact that Rachel most definitely had something to do with it. Her and the shit storm of a break up. "I just thought it would be good for you to meet someone new."
"I know and I will definitely take you up on your offer as soon as my arm heals. The doctor said it was just a sprain but I shouldn't push it."
"You hurt your arm? What happened?"
Santana chuckled wryly before recanting the horror story to Mike. She told him about the crazed but cute blonde. Told him about the debacle with the ice cream carton and how she'd ended up colliding with a display of canned beans when the blonde presumably snapped out of her crazed stupor and ran. "That, if you can believe it, is what happened."
A peel of boisterous laughter emitted from Mike, causing Santana to pull the phone away from her ear. The brunette huffed as she waited for her friend's laughter to die down. When Mike finally calmed himself enough to speak his tone was set somewhere between amused and taunting. "I knew the brunette in that YouTube video Mercedes sent me looked familiar. I can barely believe you actually fought with some stranger over ice cream, Santana."
"I can barely believe it myself. I just hope I never run into that chick again. She was seriously deranged. I even changed grocery stores which totally sucks because it's literally right down the street from my apartment."
"Come on, what are the chances you'd run into her again. We live in a big city." Mike reasoned comfortingly. "And if your luck is really that bad-"
The sound of his voice was cut off immediately upon the impact of another body crashing in to Santana. Santana reached out blindly, managing to steady both herself and the other person despite the painful throbbing at her injured arm. Dropping her phone completely in the process. Her wide brown eyes landed upon the taller woman and she scowled. Her luck must have been horrible because standing right in front of her was the crazed blonde woman from the market. Santana scowled, two seconds away from ripping the other woman a new one. Vicious brown eyes met shimmering blue and Santana's heart stopped. Her brutal glare softening considerably. There were huge, wet tears in the blonde's eyes and the puffy redness around them had Santana deducing that the woman had been crying for quite some time. There was pain, callous and heartbreaking, swirling in those blue eyes. The bluest most beautiful eyes Santana had ever looked into. The brunette couldn't help thinking no girl that beautiful should have so much pain in her eyes.
Before Santana could force herself out of her stupor, before she could gain back the basic motor functions she needed to attempt speech, the mysterious blonde woman had taken a step back. Slipping out of Santana's hold and she rushing away with a strained barely audible. "Sorry."
Santana simply stared after her, dumbfounded, for the briefest of moments before moving to chase after the blonde. The sound of her expensive new phone cracking beneath the heel of her pumps thwarted the action. Santana stared down at the broken device. The look of worry and determination holding her features morphed slowly into one of unbridled rage. She was sincerely hoping she never ran into that woman ever again. The crazed, mysterious, beautiful blonde only seemed to bring her bad luck.
--------------------
"C'mon, Britt! Open up!" Puck tapped another useless knock upon his roommate's bedroom door. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Brittany out of her room and it was seriously beginning to worry him. He was even been forced to call in reinforcements.
"Brittany, sweetie," Quinn spoke softly, sternly, against the closed door. Sparing an accusatory glare at Puck as though the dark haired man was the cause of Brittany's confinement. "You can't stay in there forever. At some point you'll have to come out and talk."
A muffled and sniffle-y, "I don't want to talk!" followed by a clearer, "Just go away!" sounded from inside of the room.
"Quinn is the one the wants to talk!" Puck took the opportunity to clarify. Doubling his efforts to coax Brittany out. "I wanna take you out, get you so drunk you can't see straight, and help you score some-"
"Noah!" Quinn scowled at the man, swatting admonishingly at his bicep. "The last thing she needs to do is have a drunken hook up with a random stranger. She needs to talk about what happened with Finn."
"I don't want to do either of those things!" Brittany's muffled yell sounded again. "Will both of you just leave me alone!"
Puck ran a hand through his mohawk and sighed. Sparing an irritated glance at Quinn from the corner of his eye. "The last thing Britt needs is you forcing her to talk about that douche. He's already hooking up with some hot actress or whatever which is complete bull because there should be a law or something about a dude like that getting chicks that hot."
Quinn huffed in pure annoyance before settling a scathing glare upon Puck, a glare reserved especially for him. "Finn is a decent guy. Him and Britt just had a minor falling out, they'll be back together and happy again once she gets out of this funk."
"You're kidding, right?" He leveled her with an arched brow, incredulous. "You seriously want them to get back together after the shit he pulled?"
"And what exactly would be wrong with that? They've been together for years. They love each other. They'll have a happy life together."
Pick scoffed at the look of determination and self-reassurance written plainly across Quinn's pretty features. "Are you saying that because you really believe they belong together? Or is that what you tell yourself when you realize you're not happy with Bleach Boy."
Her features hardened, hazel green eyes cutting through Puck. It wasn't the fist time he'd insulted her relationship. At least she wasn't like him. At least she found someone who could tolerate her long enough to stay in a relationship with her. All Puck had were countless flings and less than a handful of horrible ex girlfriends. She couldn't recall him having one steady relationship in all the time they'd been acquainted. "I'm very happy with Sam and for the last time, Noah, he doesn't dye his hair."
"There's no way that kinda blonde is-"
"Can you guys go fight about Sam's hair somewhere else?" Brittany popped her head out of her bedroom door. "You're giving me a headache."
Puck's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the heartbroken blonde. She looked like something out of a horror story and he didn't even want to know how that piece of tissue was sticking to her sweatshirt. "Dude... you look like crap."
"Noah!" Quinn slapped at his arm for the second time.
"What?" He spared an exasperated stare at Quinn. Did she seriously have to hit him every time he said something she deemed inappropriate? "I can't have a hot wing woman if she looks like she got hit by a-"
"Brittany isn't going to be your 'wing woman', she's going to work things out with Fi-"
"Both of you just..." Brittany blanched at both of her friends' suggestions. She didn't want a fling and she most definitely didn't want to rekindle her romance with Finn Hudson. "Stop. I don't want Finn back, I just," Brittany rubbed at her throbbing temples, trying and failing to hold back a fresh bout of tears. "It's been, like, two weeks and he's already dating someone else. If anything I just want to make him feel as horrible as I feel."
--------------------
Brittany tried, quite unsuccessfully, to pry herself out of her Quinn and Puck’s tight grasps. Her two best friends were practically forcing her into the packed club. Puck on her right with his meaty arm draped over her shoulders and Quinn with her arm looped through Brittany’s. Resistance, it seemed, was futile. The two rarely agreed on anything. Especially when it came to Brittany. Unluckily for the heart broken blonde both of her friends had agreed that she needed a “fun night out”. What they didn’t agree on was how Brittany’s night would end. Puck was still intent on having Brittany be his wing woman and finding her a hot hook up for the night. He claimed that the blonde was in dire need of something uncomplicated and purely physical to get over the break up. Quinn, however, simply wanted Brittany to have a nice night out. Expectation free. She firmly believed Brittany didn’t need a new relationship, however fleeting, to help her get over Finn. It’d taken Brittany hours of convincing for Quinn to accept that she truly didn’t want to get back with her ex.
“Guys,” Brittany whined, giving her friends the most pathetic look she could muster. “I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”
“The only way you’re leaving is with a stranger to take home and have your way with.” Puck shot her his signature grin, steering them further into the club.
Quinn rolled her eyes at his idiocy, giving Brittany’s arm a squeeze and directing a sweet smile at the other blonde. “Don’t listen to him. We’re just here to dance, maybe have a drink or two, and who knows? Maybe you’ll run into a cute guy to flirt with. No pressure, Britt.”
“That’s bull. Don’t listen to her.” The dark haired man started leading them toward the dance floor. He knew Brittany loved dancing. It was her life. If he could get her out onto the dance floor, a little alcohol and an interested party would do the rest. He hated seeing his usually chipper friend so down in the dumps. Plus, she was totally cramping his style. He couldn’t count all the times Brittany managed to sabotage his hook ups over the past couple of weeks. Chicks so didn’t dig having sex while his roommate was bawling in the next room. The sooner Brittany was back to her old self, preferably the pre-Finn self because she was ten times more entertaining, the better. “All you need is some hot-”
Their trek toward the dance floor was halted by a glaring Quinn tugging Brittany in the opposite direction. “Seriously, Noah. Is sex the only thing you think about? Brittany just had her heart broken. She doesn’t need-”
“What she doesn’t need is advice from you. Last time I checked, princess, you’ve been living in a fairytale with Prince Trouty Mouth for half your life. You don’t know what someone needs after a break up.”
“And you do? The guy who prides himself on being a complete man whore. As far as I know you’ve never been in an actual committed relationship.” She let go of Brittany’s arm to set her hands on her hips, glaring at the man before her. “So what makes you the expert?”
“For your information, babe, I have been in an,” He switched into a high pitched voice in order to imitate the glaring blonde. Unhooking his arms from around Brittany’s shoulders to cross them over his chest. “Actual committed relationship and I know a shit ton about heart break and how to make it go away.”
Brittany sighed heavily. Rolling her blue eyes in pure exasperation at her friends’ antics. Their constant bickering was getting super old. She wondered how much longer it was going to take them to admit they were in love with each other. The thought disappeared instantly when she realized she was free from their death grips. Her gaze grazed over the exit, landing on the crowded bar. Maybe Puck had the right idea. Not about the random hook up but the getting plastered until she couldn’t see straight part. The notion did seem tempting. And dancing a bit didn’t sound that bad. She caught the attention of her friends mid argument and motioned toward the bar. “I’m going to get something to drink.”
The bickering pair barely paid any mind to her statement. They simply continued with their catty insults and angry flirting as Brittany headed for the bar. After she managed to squeeze herself past a few rowdy patrons she tried to flag down the bartender. One of the rowdy patrons knocked into her back, forcing her to crash into a short brunette in front of her. Consequently spilling the dark haired woman’s drink all over the both of them.
Santana had finally escaped Mike’s clutches for the first time of the night. He was attempting to con Santana into meeting the someone new they’d talked about just a few days ago. She appreciated his concern, she really did. She just wasn’t ready to start dating again. So what if the break up had been over a year ago and Santana had busied herself with work and family. She had listened to Mike rant and rave about how gorgeous the woman was, how she was Santana’s type, and how they would be perfect for each other. How Santana should follow Rachel’s example and find love. She simply had to get away from the conversation after that. Excusing herself to get another drink at the bar had seemed like the perfect idea up until her drink, and her still sore arm, was being squished between herself and another body. Her beverage spilling all over her favorite skin tight red dress and onto the sexy black halter top the other woman was wearing.
“What the-” Santana was a second away from chewing out the idiot that knocked into her. Dark, furious glare shifting from her damp clothing to her assailant’s face. When she found familiar sapphire eyes staring apologetically down at her she cursed her luck. It was like the cosmos were mocking her.
“I’m so sorry.” Brittany’s brows furrowed and she chewed anxiously at her bottom lip. She faintly noted that the brunette looked familiar. She’d been having bad luck with running into pretty brunettes at the worse possible times.
Santana acknowledged the blonde’s apology with an annoyed grunt and a forced smile before turning back toward the bar. Intent on getting herself another, stronger, drink and getting as far away from the blonde as quickly as physically possible. The last thing she needed was another injury attributed to the crazed, though she appeared significantly more docile at the moment, woman.
Brittany, feeling terrible about the incident, ordered two shots of tequila from the bartender. Sliding one in front of the clearly upset brunette. “I really am sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Santana offered the other woman a curt smile before walking (practically running) away.
Brittany shrugged off the nagging feeling that she’d seen the brunette somewhere before and downed the shot in front of her. She ordered two more shots before heading back toward her friends who were no longer arguing. They also seemed to be wearing matching expressions, a mixture of curiosity and worry.
“So,” Quinn smiled sweetly at the other blonde. “Did you get her name?”
“Who?”
Puck chuckled, his patented grin across his lips. “The hot chick you were just flirting with at the bar.”
“What hot chick?” The confused crinkle at Brittany’s brow had Puck gaping at her.
Quinn arched a perfectly sculpted brow at her friend. “The one you bought a drink for?”
“Oh,” Brittany shrugged. “I didn’t flirt with her.”
“Dude!” Puck’s eyes were nearly bulging out of his skull. Brittany had to be freaking blind not to notice how hot that chick was. He sighed in defeat when Brittany merely stared at him with utter confusion. His gaze moved to the shots in the blonde’s hands. Alcohol would make everything better. “Well, at least you bought the first round.”
“What do you mean?” She downed the shot in her right hand. “These are for me.” The statement was followed with Brittany downing the second shot. She was starting to feel the buzz from the shot she’d had at the bar. It made her skin prickle and her head fuzzy and her body hum. “I wanna dance.”
Her friends were left to stare inquisitively after her as she disappeared into the crowd of writhing bodies. Puck turned to Quinn with an apprehensive smile. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?”
“It was your idea.” Quinn shot back.
And thus the bickering continued.
--------------------
Brittany was lost in the beat of the music, enjoying the release that came with dancing. All of her thoughts were drowned out by the music. Her body moving instinctively, thrashing and rocking and pulsing to the sound. She closed her eyes. Surrendering to the feel. The songs changed, the beat slowing and quickening, while her worries simply slipped away.
After what felt like forever, Brittany felt someone brushing against her. Moving with her, chasing the harsh beat. Without a second thought she grabbed a hold of the mystery person and kept dancing. The feel of the warm body against her adding to her oblivion. She felt her dance partner stiffen for the briefest of seconds before they were both writhing together again, closer than before. Brittany twirled around, pressing herself against the front of the woman behind her. She’d deduced from the soft swell of breasts pressing against her back and the soft skin beneath her fingertips that her dance partner was most definitely a woman.
Brittany could feel the woman’s hot breath rushing against her ear, carrying a sultry sound that made her shiver. The woman’s voice was a sultry rasp that had her stomach coiling and that spot between her legs aching with anticipation. She could barely focus on the lyrics her dance partner was practically moaning against her ear. Something about teasing, wanting, needing. Then the woman was spinning Brittany around to face her. Dark chocolate eyes staring up into swirling blue. Brittany vaguely realized she was dancing with the brunette she ran into at the bar. She also realized that Puck was right, the woman was hot. Her darkening gaze flickered to the brunette’s lips and she wondered how they would feel against her own. Wondered if they would feel better than the teasing grind of the brunette’s body against hers. Wondered if kissing the other woman would quell the worsening ache in the pit of her stomach. If kissing a complete stranger would rid her of the lingering malice she felt for Finn and his ability to forget her so quickly. If he could move on, so could she.
They were dancing so close, pressed so intimately against one another that Brittany was able to close the barely there space between their lips before she could talk herself out of it. Before her conscious could kick in, sounding a hell of a lot like Quinn, and force her to second guess the action. Brittany didn’t expect the tingles that shot through her when their lips met. She didn’t expect the way her heart seemed to pause for an entire elongated beat before hammering erratically beneath her chest or the way her stomach was flipping like it was housing an Olympic gymnast. And she most definitely did not expect the uncomfortable ache to worsen when the other woman started kissing her back. She didn’t expect to feel it in her bones the way she was. She hadn’t expected to feel much more than a pleasant tingle. But at that moment she felt a whole lot more than she thought she would and it was scaring her shitless. So she ran. From the feeling. From the mysterious super sexy brunette. From the voice in her head, that sounded far too much like Puck, telling her a hot chick with a dizzying kiss was exactly what she needed to help her move on.
Santana, who was left completely bewildered by the blonde’s sudden exit, stood frozen in the middle of the dance floor wondering how in the hell she’d ended up making out with the crazed blonde woman she’d fought with over a carton of ice cream less than a week ago.