Fic: Empire State of Mind - Chapter 9: Stripped
Title: Empire State of Mind - Chapter 9: Stripped
Author: agentb81
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3200
Disclaimer: Glee is copyrighted and belongs to the creators and Fox. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Use of other personalities is not a reflection of their real lives and is completely fictional. Title taken from Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ Empire State of Mind, this fiction does not use any other material from the song.
Summary: AU Two very different young women find themselves in the big city of New York about to embark on the biggest career moves of their lives.
Spoilers: None.
A/N: For my invisible friends, you guys are amazing!
A/N 2: I realise it has been some time since the last update and for that I apologise, I hope it was worth the wait.
Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1: Sweat and Tears / Chapter 2: Hustle and Bustle / Chapter 3: Will and Hope / Chapter 4: Tiptoe / Chapter 5: Entwined / Chapter 6: New Beginning / Chapter 7: Two Become One / Chapter 8: Unholy Trinity
Stripped.
Laid bare.
Waiting. And waiting. Time ticked by, the second hand on the clock hammering intensely, every second felt like a minute. Heavy pounding hearts contradicting the rhythm of the clock. A trinity, beating in unison. Waiting.
The tension in the air was palpable. Three pairs of eyes darted around the room, unsure of where to look, who to look at, how to perceive the situation. Santana sat awkwardly on the floor, Quinn on the couch, head hung in shame, suddenly sober and facing the stark reality of the situation. It was the person in the doorway who stood with purpose and clarity, reading the situation as it was.
"It's not . . ." Santana began, her voice breaking the eerie silence.
". . .what it looks like?" the sentence was completed for her. The Latina closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, willing her heart to slow.
"It's true." Quinn spoke, quietly, yet with purpose. "It's my fault, I came on to her, I misread the signs."
"Signs?" Santana blasted, finally finding her feet and her steady voice. "There were no signs." she concluded, hands placed firmly on her hips.
"You got me drunk, you told me you couldn't do it any more." Quinn shrugged, "what was I supposed to think?"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Santana asked with exasperation.
"Stop yelling." the calm voice silenced the room once again. Santana's gaze followed the tone, her frown saddened. "Your girlfriend is downstairs." the brown eyes shot up, holding Kurt's accusing stare. "Exactly." he said, as if reading her mind. What if Brittany had been the one to climb the stairs, what if the interruption had been a moment or two later? So many questions, so much pressure yanking on the Latina's heartstrings. She knew nothing had happened, that she did not want anything to happen and it was all Quinn, yet she could not help feeling guilty for getting herself into the situation in the first place.
"I'm sorry." she said quietly to no one in particular.
"Brittany's upset, Santana." Kurt stated impatiently from the door.
"What? Why?" The brunette asked, panicked. She knew the blonde had been upset with her when she left Brittany's apartment, that was apparent, but she had not been expecting to see or hear from Brittany again that evening, they both needed some time alone to take things into perspective. The Maitre D shrugged.
"She wouldn't say." he replied nonchalantly.
"Send her up." Quinn stated, earning a puzzled look from the Latina. "I'll follow you down Kurt. You two can have some privacy. I owe you that much." the blonde said, a small apologetic smile tugging at her lips. Kurt turned and vacated the room, leaving two very guilty looking women alone.
"I . . ." Quinn began.
"Don't." Santana started, shaking her head. "This is such a mess. Why is everything so fucked up?" she asked, her eyes and fists raised to the ceiling in frustration.
"Are you going to tell her?" Quinn asked curiously, slightly nervous.
Santana cocked her head to the side, eyeing her friend with wonder and bemusement, one hand on hip while the other gesticulated wildly. "What, that I spilled my heart out to you over a disagreement I had with my girlfriend and instead of offering advice you came on to me?"
"She came on to you?" Two heads shot toward the voice at the door where a forlorn looking Brittany stood. "You left your phone." she stated simply, holding out Santana's phone in her hand. The Latina's features softened, taking in the bewilderment of the blonde.
"I should go." Quinn said, as she started to move toward the door. She slowed apprehensively as she realised she needed to round Brittany in order to make her exit.
As Quinn approached tentatively, the tall blonde shook her head. "Nu uh." she said with steel grit. Her eyes were wild with something, Santana had a difficult time recognising the look in the blue orbs that were always so loving and playful. The dancer calmly closed the door behind her, the atmosphere in the room was tense. Quinn looked to Santana questioningly, silently begging for answers the brunette did not have. The Latina herself was beginning to quiver with fright, having never witnessed the blonde in such a state before. "I want to hear it." Brittany said with an eerie calmness. Santana opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off from her girlfriend, a hand held up for emphasis. "No, San, I want to hear it from her." Brittany cocked her head to the side, folded her arms across her chest, phone still clasped tightly in her fist and waited. Quinn shot another look toward Santana who just shrugged, she too crossed her arms, awaiting the response.
"Brittany, I am so sorry." she began with a sigh. "I was drunk, I was emotional, I just broke up with Sam and Santana seemed upset too . . ."
"So that gives you free reign over my girlfriend?"
"She said she couldn't do it anymore!" Quinn shot back, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth. Santana was vehemently shaking her head when Brittany's wide eyes reached her.
"No, no, no, that's not what I meant." the Latina clarified defensively. The blonde's blue eyes were now narrowed, waiting for elaboration. Santana sighed. Why did everything have to be so complicated. "I just," she began. Another sigh. Santana formulated her words in her mind. "B, I was frustrated with the whole situation. I love you so much and I just want to be able to show it all of the time. I just can't deal with difficult mothers and asshole ex boyfriends. I just want it to be us Britt." Brittany's frown slowly turned into a shy smile, the words penetrating her mind and her heart, any doubt she had before about Santana's feelings seemed to be long gone.
"What about her?" the dancer asked, nodding her head toward the sheepish restaurateur.
"We work together," Santana said catching the hazel gaze. "I thought we were friends." Quinn rolled her eyes, angry for making a fool of herself.
"I said I'm sorry." she began. "How many times do you need to hear it?" she stalked toward the door not waiting for an answer. "I'll leave you guys alone." she stated. Brittany sidestepped allowing Quinn an escape root. Two pairs of eyes followed her until the door clicked shut again.
Santana shifted her gaze to her girlfriend who started to look weary on her feet. A note of worry etched on her features. The brunette frowned and stepped closer to the blonde, concerned by her appearance. "B, what's wrong?" she asked, placing her hands on Brittany's upper arms, gently rubbing up and down, encouraging the blonde to speak. Her eyes searched the blue orbs before her, searching for any tell tale sign. She knew Brittany was upset, when realization dawned on her. "Did Daniel do something?" she asked, her voice laced with venom. When the dancer's eyes dropped, Santana knew she was right. "What did he do?" she asked. Ever the impatient one, she tried again, "Britt, please talk to me." she stated, "What did he do?" she asked more gently. Brittany's eyes met her own once again, the cool blue now shimmering with unshed tears. "Babe." Santana's plea was enough for a confession.
"He tried to . . ." began Brittany, unable to spit the words out. "He . . ."
"Did he touch you?" Santana asked, her eyes trained on the blue ones before her. Brittany sighed, she motioned over to the coffee table where Santana's tumbler lay, a rich golden liquid clung to the sides of the glass begging to be drank. Santana smiled a little and pulled the blonde over to the couch where she and Quinn had sat earlier. The chef handed the blonde the half full glass who proceeded to down the warm liquid with one gulp. "Hey," Santana said, taking the glass from the blonde as she swiped at her lips with the back of her other hand. "I think that belongs to me." the brunette giggled, taking her phone that was still in the blonde's hands. Brittany smiled, flexing her newly freed fingers. "Tell me Britt." Santana said soothingly, pulling the dancer into her side.
The blonde regaled the tale of the evening, how her own mother had set her up, Daniel's forceful nature, his desire to be with the blonde again and willingness to move to the city. Her last words would haunt Santana, "and then he had me cornered on the sofa and I told him I was with you and that I love you, but he didn't stop. He wouldn't stop talking and as he was talking, planning our future he was forcing me down with his hands. He was pushing me down and climbing on top of me." With every word Santana could feel the anger within bubble. "I managed to push him off, I don't know how, it all happened so fast." She was angry with Daniel, angry with Brittany's mother, but she was also angry with herself for walking out on the blonde when she so obviously needed her. "Don't." Brittany said forcefully after a couple minutes of silence. Santana's silence spoke of her confusion. "Don't punish yourself. None of it is your fault."
"If I had been there, he wouldn't have done that."
"San," the blonde said, she swivelled in her seat and faced her girlfriend, never before had she looked so serious.
"What if you hadn't found that strength Britt? What then? We would be having an entirely different conversation, hell, we might not even be having one at all." the Latina fumed with frustration. She moved to get up, her restless legs willing her to move. However Brittany had her pinned down.
"No San." Brittany said sternly, her eyes seeking out the brunette's attempting to calm her down. The blonde's mind drifted, sidetracked, Santana's 'what if' question played on her own mind. What if she had not turned up to the restaurant, or if she was a moment or two later. What if Kurt had not have interrupted Santana and Quinn. Blue eyes dropped, looking away from the Latina, a frown formed on her brow causing Santana to question her sudden change in emotion.
"Britt?" Santana asked cautiously, causing the blonde to look up slightly. The chef watched the emotions flick across the normally crystal clear blue eyes. The brunette, cocked her head slightly, silently reading the other woman's thoughts, her mouth opened to speak, however her throat restricted as tears threatened to spill from her own eyes. Never before had one woman stirred so much emotion inside of her. She loved Brittany, there was no question about it. However she had always been protective of her own heart. Being an only child and often left to her own devices had taught her that. It was instilled within her. So at the first sign of aggravation in their relationship, Santana did what she knew best. She ran away from the situation, leaving Brittany to deal with it on her own. She had fallen into the boozy trap Quinn had set for her, admitting it would be easier to walk away from the problem than dealing with it head on. "Brittany?" she asked again tentatively, her voice cracking with the sadness she saw in the dancer's eyes. "I love you Brittany Susan Pierce." Santana whispered. "I love you and I want to be with you."
"You have to show me Santana." Brittany replied, her head tilting sideways, her own tears spilling from her eyes. "You can't run away every time you don't like something, or someone."
"Hey, turns out I had very good reason to not like him." Santana defended quickly. "Sorry." she stated upon receiving a curt glance from her girlfriend. "I get that, I do. I'm learning here Brittany. I've never felt so completely helpless, I've always been in control of my own feelings and you come along and do this to me." she said pointing at her tears with a warm smile.
"I'm not going to apologise for loving you, or for you loving me." The blonde stated with an earnest simplicity. Santana's lip quivered at the sentiment. She had to fix this little rift that had formed between them, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and she could not blame her insecurities. This was real. What she had with Brittany was beyond any bond she had formed with anyone in her entire life, and looking past her own fears, she could see a future with the blonde and she wanted it more than anything and that also scared her. But if today had taught her anything, it was to face your fears, take them on and defeat them. She had accomplished it once when she moved to Europe all on her own as a young apprentice, and several other times along the way. If she could not do it now with Brittany, she would lose her and above all else, that scared her the most. Taking a deep breath, she picked up Brittany's hand in her own, observing the patterns of the small lines, her thumb tracking the contours and admiring the smoothness of the skin beneath.
"I don't want you to apologise." she began. "None of this is your fault. I've constantly made this about me and it's not. And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that your mother has a hard time accepting you for the amazing, incredible person you are because that must hurt and at no point did I stop to consider that. She loves you Britt, I can see that, she adores the way you dance, she's incredibly proud of you and what you've become. But to not be able to handle the truth about who you love must be crippling." she watched as the tears silently slid down her girlfriend's face. Santana tenderly reached up with her free hand and wiped at the tear tracks on the blonde's cheeks. "Shhh." the brunette cooed. She shifted slightly in her seat and pulled her girlfriend into her side, holding her close. "I love you Brittany, I'll never walk out on you again." she promised, emphasising her words with gentle caresses and sweet kisses. Swallowing the lump in her own throat, she added, "I will always be here for you."
"She likes you." Brittany sniffled after a few moments of comfortable silence. Santana's mind raced, her thoughts immediately picked out Quinn. She wondered just where the dancer was heading with the statement. "My Mom." The blonde concluded. "She likes you, she always mentions you when we talk on the phone." A smile tugged at the brunette's lips.
"Then we're half way there." Santana stated proudly. "We'll tell her together and it helps that your Dad already knows and is cool with us." She smiled, "He will be an amazing buffer." the Latina concluded with a wink.
"Thank you." replied Brittany. She sat up, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. She leaned closer to Santana, closing the agonising gap between them and placed a gentle kiss upon her girlfriend's inviting lips. "I love you Santana." she said against the brunette's lips before capturing them again. It was a slow, loving kiss, lips gliding easily over one another, conveying apology and promise emphasising earlier words. Santana sighed with satisfaction as her eyes fluttered closed, never tiring of feeling the blonde's lips upon her own. She ached to taste her girlfriend and slipped her tongue with ease, through Brittany's slightly parted lips and into the other woman's waiting mouth. Their tongues found one another, battling in a lazy dual causing both women to occasionally moan with pleasure. Her arms wrapped around the blonde, clinging to her tightly, never wanting to let go. Santana gasped at the realisation she could have been so close to losing this, to never feel Brittany upon her again. With fervour, she kissed Brittany like there was no tomorrow. Brittany whimpered at the ferocity Santana's lips were attacking her, gasping eagerly for breath, only gaining a respite when the brunette untangled their tongues and dislodged her lips to assault the dancer's gracious neck.
"San." Brittany moaned as Santana sucked on her pulse point. Taking it as encouragement, the Latina continued her oral assault. "Mmm Santana." The blonde protested.
"Shhh," began the brunette, who's hands had found their way under the dancer's t-shirt. "Less talking, more macking." she ordered. Her lips found Brittany's collar bone. The blonde giggled, Santana's lips tickling her.
"San," she tried again to gain the chef's attention, "baby, stop, please." she gently nudged her girlfriend backwards and smiled adoringly at her dishevelled state. Santana's hair was wild where Brittany's hands had mussed it up, her eyes heavy lidded, her lips swollen and pouting. Brittany could quite happily gaze at the other woman all day.
"This better be good." Santana mumbled.
"As much as I want to get revenge on Quinn for hitting on my girl, I'm not going to have sex with you, not here in her office, not now, not like this." Brittany stated. The brunette frowned before nodding her head, her libido would have to wait. Brittany was right, Quinn's couch would be all kinds of wrong. Besides, her girl was much classier than that.
"Fair point." Santana nodded. "But for the record, you're super hot and you're getting super lucky tonight."
"Oh I count on that." giggled the blonde. "Give me your phone." she stated suddenly, yet excitedly. Santana narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowed and the lines on her forehead indicated her confusion. Still entangled with the blonde, she struggled to reach into her pocket before pulling the device free of it's confines. Santana handed it back to Brittany without question, only intrigue. She watched as Brittany's eyes lit up the moment the phone did, "I love this picture." the blonde said as she saw the image again, for the umpteenth time that day. On her way over to the restaurant she had constantly stared at it, smiling goofily and becoming teary the closer she physically got to the restaurant and nearer to her girlfriend. Santana smiled, she too loved the picture and was planning of having a copy printed for her bedside very soon.
"Me too." Santana sighed. "We're making memories Britt." she smiled happily, hugging the blonde into her side with an extra squeeze.
"I don't think I want to ever think about today again." The blonde surmised. "Not all of it." she added. Santana took a deep breath, she certainly had not made things easy for her girlfriend that day. What had begun as an incredible afternoon, entangled in one another, embroiled in a hotbed of love and passion. It was the perfect way to spend a day off. Little did they know the course the day would take. How emotions would be turned on their head, feelings questioned and third party advances made. "Things are so much simpler when it's just you and I."
Author: agentb81
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3200
Disclaimer: Glee is copyrighted and belongs to the creators and Fox. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Use of other personalities is not a reflection of their real lives and is completely fictional. Title taken from Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ Empire State of Mind, this fiction does not use any other material from the song.
Summary: AU Two very different young women find themselves in the big city of New York about to embark on the biggest career moves of their lives.
Spoilers: None.
A/N: For my invisible friends, you guys are amazing!
A/N 2: I realise it has been some time since the last update and for that I apologise, I hope it was worth the wait.
Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1: Sweat and Tears / Chapter 2: Hustle and Bustle / Chapter 3: Will and Hope / Chapter 4: Tiptoe / Chapter 5: Entwined / Chapter 6: New Beginning / Chapter 7: Two Become One / Chapter 8: Unholy Trinity
Stripped.
Laid bare.
Waiting. And waiting. Time ticked by, the second hand on the clock hammering intensely, every second felt like a minute. Heavy pounding hearts contradicting the rhythm of the clock. A trinity, beating in unison. Waiting.
The tension in the air was palpable. Three pairs of eyes darted around the room, unsure of where to look, who to look at, how to perceive the situation. Santana sat awkwardly on the floor, Quinn on the couch, head hung in shame, suddenly sober and facing the stark reality of the situation. It was the person in the doorway who stood with purpose and clarity, reading the situation as it was.
"It's not . . ." Santana began, her voice breaking the eerie silence.
". . .what it looks like?" the sentence was completed for her. The Latina closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, willing her heart to slow.
"It's true." Quinn spoke, quietly, yet with purpose. "It's my fault, I came on to her, I misread the signs."
"Signs?" Santana blasted, finally finding her feet and her steady voice. "There were no signs." she concluded, hands placed firmly on her hips.
"You got me drunk, you told me you couldn't do it any more." Quinn shrugged, "what was I supposed to think?"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Santana asked with exasperation.
"Stop yelling." the calm voice silenced the room once again. Santana's gaze followed the tone, her frown saddened. "Your girlfriend is downstairs." the brown eyes shot up, holding Kurt's accusing stare. "Exactly." he said, as if reading her mind. What if Brittany had been the one to climb the stairs, what if the interruption had been a moment or two later? So many questions, so much pressure yanking on the Latina's heartstrings. She knew nothing had happened, that she did not want anything to happen and it was all Quinn, yet she could not help feeling guilty for getting herself into the situation in the first place.
"I'm sorry." she said quietly to no one in particular.
"Brittany's upset, Santana." Kurt stated impatiently from the door.
"What? Why?" The brunette asked, panicked. She knew the blonde had been upset with her when she left Brittany's apartment, that was apparent, but she had not been expecting to see or hear from Brittany again that evening, they both needed some time alone to take things into perspective. The Maitre D shrugged.
"She wouldn't say." he replied nonchalantly.
"Send her up." Quinn stated, earning a puzzled look from the Latina. "I'll follow you down Kurt. You two can have some privacy. I owe you that much." the blonde said, a small apologetic smile tugging at her lips. Kurt turned and vacated the room, leaving two very guilty looking women alone.
"I . . ." Quinn began.
"Don't." Santana started, shaking her head. "This is such a mess. Why is everything so fucked up?" she asked, her eyes and fists raised to the ceiling in frustration.
"Are you going to tell her?" Quinn asked curiously, slightly nervous.
Santana cocked her head to the side, eyeing her friend with wonder and bemusement, one hand on hip while the other gesticulated wildly. "What, that I spilled my heart out to you over a disagreement I had with my girlfriend and instead of offering advice you came on to me?"
"She came on to you?" Two heads shot toward the voice at the door where a forlorn looking Brittany stood. "You left your phone." she stated simply, holding out Santana's phone in her hand. The Latina's features softened, taking in the bewilderment of the blonde.
"I should go." Quinn said, as she started to move toward the door. She slowed apprehensively as she realised she needed to round Brittany in order to make her exit.
As Quinn approached tentatively, the tall blonde shook her head. "Nu uh." she said with steel grit. Her eyes were wild with something, Santana had a difficult time recognising the look in the blue orbs that were always so loving and playful. The dancer calmly closed the door behind her, the atmosphere in the room was tense. Quinn looked to Santana questioningly, silently begging for answers the brunette did not have. The Latina herself was beginning to quiver with fright, having never witnessed the blonde in such a state before. "I want to hear it." Brittany said with an eerie calmness. Santana opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off from her girlfriend, a hand held up for emphasis. "No, San, I want to hear it from her." Brittany cocked her head to the side, folded her arms across her chest, phone still clasped tightly in her fist and waited. Quinn shot another look toward Santana who just shrugged, she too crossed her arms, awaiting the response.
"Brittany, I am so sorry." she began with a sigh. "I was drunk, I was emotional, I just broke up with Sam and Santana seemed upset too . . ."
"So that gives you free reign over my girlfriend?"
"She said she couldn't do it anymore!" Quinn shot back, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth. Santana was vehemently shaking her head when Brittany's wide eyes reached her.
"No, no, no, that's not what I meant." the Latina clarified defensively. The blonde's blue eyes were now narrowed, waiting for elaboration. Santana sighed. Why did everything have to be so complicated. "I just," she began. Another sigh. Santana formulated her words in her mind. "B, I was frustrated with the whole situation. I love you so much and I just want to be able to show it all of the time. I just can't deal with difficult mothers and asshole ex boyfriends. I just want it to be us Britt." Brittany's frown slowly turned into a shy smile, the words penetrating her mind and her heart, any doubt she had before about Santana's feelings seemed to be long gone.
"What about her?" the dancer asked, nodding her head toward the sheepish restaurateur.
"We work together," Santana said catching the hazel gaze. "I thought we were friends." Quinn rolled her eyes, angry for making a fool of herself.
"I said I'm sorry." she began. "How many times do you need to hear it?" she stalked toward the door not waiting for an answer. "I'll leave you guys alone." she stated. Brittany sidestepped allowing Quinn an escape root. Two pairs of eyes followed her until the door clicked shut again.
Santana shifted her gaze to her girlfriend who started to look weary on her feet. A note of worry etched on her features. The brunette frowned and stepped closer to the blonde, concerned by her appearance. "B, what's wrong?" she asked, placing her hands on Brittany's upper arms, gently rubbing up and down, encouraging the blonde to speak. Her eyes searched the blue orbs before her, searching for any tell tale sign. She knew Brittany was upset, when realization dawned on her. "Did Daniel do something?" she asked, her voice laced with venom. When the dancer's eyes dropped, Santana knew she was right. "What did he do?" she asked. Ever the impatient one, she tried again, "Britt, please talk to me." she stated, "What did he do?" she asked more gently. Brittany's eyes met her own once again, the cool blue now shimmering with unshed tears. "Babe." Santana's plea was enough for a confession.
"He tried to . . ." began Brittany, unable to spit the words out. "He . . ."
"Did he touch you?" Santana asked, her eyes trained on the blue ones before her. Brittany sighed, she motioned over to the coffee table where Santana's tumbler lay, a rich golden liquid clung to the sides of the glass begging to be drank. Santana smiled a little and pulled the blonde over to the couch where she and Quinn had sat earlier. The chef handed the blonde the half full glass who proceeded to down the warm liquid with one gulp. "Hey," Santana said, taking the glass from the blonde as she swiped at her lips with the back of her other hand. "I think that belongs to me." the brunette giggled, taking her phone that was still in the blonde's hands. Brittany smiled, flexing her newly freed fingers. "Tell me Britt." Santana said soothingly, pulling the dancer into her side.
The blonde regaled the tale of the evening, how her own mother had set her up, Daniel's forceful nature, his desire to be with the blonde again and willingness to move to the city. Her last words would haunt Santana, "and then he had me cornered on the sofa and I told him I was with you and that I love you, but he didn't stop. He wouldn't stop talking and as he was talking, planning our future he was forcing me down with his hands. He was pushing me down and climbing on top of me." With every word Santana could feel the anger within bubble. "I managed to push him off, I don't know how, it all happened so fast." She was angry with Daniel, angry with Brittany's mother, but she was also angry with herself for walking out on the blonde when she so obviously needed her. "Don't." Brittany said forcefully after a couple minutes of silence. Santana's silence spoke of her confusion. "Don't punish yourself. None of it is your fault."
"If I had been there, he wouldn't have done that."
"San," the blonde said, she swivelled in her seat and faced her girlfriend, never before had she looked so serious.
"What if you hadn't found that strength Britt? What then? We would be having an entirely different conversation, hell, we might not even be having one at all." the Latina fumed with frustration. She moved to get up, her restless legs willing her to move. However Brittany had her pinned down.
"No San." Brittany said sternly, her eyes seeking out the brunette's attempting to calm her down. The blonde's mind drifted, sidetracked, Santana's 'what if' question played on her own mind. What if she had not turned up to the restaurant, or if she was a moment or two later. What if Kurt had not have interrupted Santana and Quinn. Blue eyes dropped, looking away from the Latina, a frown formed on her brow causing Santana to question her sudden change in emotion.
"Britt?" Santana asked cautiously, causing the blonde to look up slightly. The chef watched the emotions flick across the normally crystal clear blue eyes. The brunette, cocked her head slightly, silently reading the other woman's thoughts, her mouth opened to speak, however her throat restricted as tears threatened to spill from her own eyes. Never before had one woman stirred so much emotion inside of her. She loved Brittany, there was no question about it. However she had always been protective of her own heart. Being an only child and often left to her own devices had taught her that. It was instilled within her. So at the first sign of aggravation in their relationship, Santana did what she knew best. She ran away from the situation, leaving Brittany to deal with it on her own. She had fallen into the boozy trap Quinn had set for her, admitting it would be easier to walk away from the problem than dealing with it head on. "Brittany?" she asked again tentatively, her voice cracking with the sadness she saw in the dancer's eyes. "I love you Brittany Susan Pierce." Santana whispered. "I love you and I want to be with you."
"You have to show me Santana." Brittany replied, her head tilting sideways, her own tears spilling from her eyes. "You can't run away every time you don't like something, or someone."
"Hey, turns out I had very good reason to not like him." Santana defended quickly. "Sorry." she stated upon receiving a curt glance from her girlfriend. "I get that, I do. I'm learning here Brittany. I've never felt so completely helpless, I've always been in control of my own feelings and you come along and do this to me." she said pointing at her tears with a warm smile.
"I'm not going to apologise for loving you, or for you loving me." The blonde stated with an earnest simplicity. Santana's lip quivered at the sentiment. She had to fix this little rift that had formed between them, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and she could not blame her insecurities. This was real. What she had with Brittany was beyond any bond she had formed with anyone in her entire life, and looking past her own fears, she could see a future with the blonde and she wanted it more than anything and that also scared her. But if today had taught her anything, it was to face your fears, take them on and defeat them. She had accomplished it once when she moved to Europe all on her own as a young apprentice, and several other times along the way. If she could not do it now with Brittany, she would lose her and above all else, that scared her the most. Taking a deep breath, she picked up Brittany's hand in her own, observing the patterns of the small lines, her thumb tracking the contours and admiring the smoothness of the skin beneath.
"I don't want you to apologise." she began. "None of this is your fault. I've constantly made this about me and it's not. And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that your mother has a hard time accepting you for the amazing, incredible person you are because that must hurt and at no point did I stop to consider that. She loves you Britt, I can see that, she adores the way you dance, she's incredibly proud of you and what you've become. But to not be able to handle the truth about who you love must be crippling." she watched as the tears silently slid down her girlfriend's face. Santana tenderly reached up with her free hand and wiped at the tear tracks on the blonde's cheeks. "Shhh." the brunette cooed. She shifted slightly in her seat and pulled her girlfriend into her side, holding her close. "I love you Brittany, I'll never walk out on you again." she promised, emphasising her words with gentle caresses and sweet kisses. Swallowing the lump in her own throat, she added, "I will always be here for you."
"She likes you." Brittany sniffled after a few moments of comfortable silence. Santana's mind raced, her thoughts immediately picked out Quinn. She wondered just where the dancer was heading with the statement. "My Mom." The blonde concluded. "She likes you, she always mentions you when we talk on the phone." A smile tugged at the brunette's lips.
"Then we're half way there." Santana stated proudly. "We'll tell her together and it helps that your Dad already knows and is cool with us." She smiled, "He will be an amazing buffer." the Latina concluded with a wink.
"Thank you." replied Brittany. She sat up, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. She leaned closer to Santana, closing the agonising gap between them and placed a gentle kiss upon her girlfriend's inviting lips. "I love you Santana." she said against the brunette's lips before capturing them again. It was a slow, loving kiss, lips gliding easily over one another, conveying apology and promise emphasising earlier words. Santana sighed with satisfaction as her eyes fluttered closed, never tiring of feeling the blonde's lips upon her own. She ached to taste her girlfriend and slipped her tongue with ease, through Brittany's slightly parted lips and into the other woman's waiting mouth. Their tongues found one another, battling in a lazy dual causing both women to occasionally moan with pleasure. Her arms wrapped around the blonde, clinging to her tightly, never wanting to let go. Santana gasped at the realisation she could have been so close to losing this, to never feel Brittany upon her again. With fervour, she kissed Brittany like there was no tomorrow. Brittany whimpered at the ferocity Santana's lips were attacking her, gasping eagerly for breath, only gaining a respite when the brunette untangled their tongues and dislodged her lips to assault the dancer's gracious neck.
"San." Brittany moaned as Santana sucked on her pulse point. Taking it as encouragement, the Latina continued her oral assault. "Mmm Santana." The blonde protested.
"Shhh," began the brunette, who's hands had found their way under the dancer's t-shirt. "Less talking, more macking." she ordered. Her lips found Brittany's collar bone. The blonde giggled, Santana's lips tickling her.
"San," she tried again to gain the chef's attention, "baby, stop, please." she gently nudged her girlfriend backwards and smiled adoringly at her dishevelled state. Santana's hair was wild where Brittany's hands had mussed it up, her eyes heavy lidded, her lips swollen and pouting. Brittany could quite happily gaze at the other woman all day.
"This better be good." Santana mumbled.
"As much as I want to get revenge on Quinn for hitting on my girl, I'm not going to have sex with you, not here in her office, not now, not like this." Brittany stated. The brunette frowned before nodding her head, her libido would have to wait. Brittany was right, Quinn's couch would be all kinds of wrong. Besides, her girl was much classier than that.
"Fair point." Santana nodded. "But for the record, you're super hot and you're getting super lucky tonight."
"Oh I count on that." giggled the blonde. "Give me your phone." she stated suddenly, yet excitedly. Santana narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowed and the lines on her forehead indicated her confusion. Still entangled with the blonde, she struggled to reach into her pocket before pulling the device free of it's confines. Santana handed it back to Brittany without question, only intrigue. She watched as Brittany's eyes lit up the moment the phone did, "I love this picture." the blonde said as she saw the image again, for the umpteenth time that day. On her way over to the restaurant she had constantly stared at it, smiling goofily and becoming teary the closer she physically got to the restaurant and nearer to her girlfriend. Santana smiled, she too loved the picture and was planning of having a copy printed for her bedside very soon.
"Me too." Santana sighed. "We're making memories Britt." she smiled happily, hugging the blonde into her side with an extra squeeze.
"I don't think I want to ever think about today again." The blonde surmised. "Not all of it." she added. Santana took a deep breath, she certainly had not made things easy for her girlfriend that day. What had begun as an incredible afternoon, entangled in one another, embroiled in a hotbed of love and passion. It was the perfect way to spend a day off. Little did they know the course the day would take. How emotions would be turned on their head, feelings questioned and third party advances made. "Things are so much simpler when it's just you and I."