Fic: Flashbacks 7/?
Title: Flashbacks 7/?
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Set in the future. Brittany is married.
Author's note: This is the sequel to It's A Nice Day For A White Wedding, although as usual there are little references to other fictions that i've done. This is probably going to be a long haul as Brittany and Santana have a lot of stuff to work through, it'd be great if you stuck with it though :) Mainly from Brittany's point of view though there will be some Santana perspective thrown in!
Chapter One Chapter Six
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Santana was getting frustrated, it was the weekend, she does not work at the weekend, not any more, and that thick skulled ape from the office was bothering her about the Jenkins Case. She had prepped him on everything on Friday, but he seems incapable of processing information. Dude can’t even make a cup of coffee properly. In fact she wouldn’t be surprised if he’s phoning her now thinking it’s a Monday.
‘You know it’s a Saturday? Can’t this wait until Monday? Under decree 167 Jenkins is more than viable. No, that’s 154, it’s 167. Yes 1997 revised. Decree, hang on someone’s at the door, 189 also supports the claim and-’
Brittany? Santana stands in the doorway her phone still pressed to the side of her face, mouth slightly agape taking in the image of the woman she hasn’t seen in three months, since her wedding day, since that day. That idiot is still babbling in her ear although she can barely hear him over the sound of blood coursing through her system.
‘Sorry, I’m going to have to call you back.’ Santana ends the call still staring at the figure in her doorway. If this had happened two months ago, possibly even one, she would have said she was definitely delusional, but she’s been perfectly well for a month now, she’d hardly even thought about Brittany, that’s not strictly true, but she only thought about good things in association with Brittany.
Santana glances down to Brittany’s left hand, the wedding ring still prominently standing out on pale skin, and her chest tightens and begins to ache a little.
‘Hi.’
‘Hello.’
‘I, um, I moved here like last month and thought I’ll come around and say hi.’
‘Well, you’ve said that.’ Santana had tried to be biting and harsh but she couldn’t help but smile as she replied, taking in Brittany’s nervous form.
Brittany laughed lightly, nodding, ‘yeah guess I did! Would you mind if I said some other words too?’
‘You just did.’ Santana leans against her doorway, raising an eyebrow, she couldn’t help but jokingly make Brittany squirm; it was like old times, the banter. Except it wasn’t.
Brittany looked crestfallen for a second before she smiled at Santana. ‘True. But I’d say a lot more than what I am saying now if you didn’t leave me on the doorstep. It’s rude.’
‘Oh I’m awfully sorry Lady Woodfall, please forgive me. I offer my humblest apologies, do please come in.’ This time Santana let the smallest trickle of acid enter her voice, but she fought to make sure her eyes were light and playful as she bowed down and held the door open for the blonde to enter.
Brittany nodded in acquiescence and went through to the kitchen, sitting on one of the wooden chairs.
Santana sits across from Brittany, she’s sitting in the same chair she sat in the day she got the invite. The memory surfaces to the forefront of her mind and her eyes are only seeing Brittany’s and Camden’s name in that delicate handwriting for second, before a flash of darkness interjects, Santana shakes it off, looking directly at Brittany. It’s awkward. They sit in silence for what seems like forever and Santana’s not sure if Brittany’s expecting them to communicate telepathically or something because she’s just staring Santana out. Santana is getting a little annoyed, Brittany shows up at her house and offers no explanation and just stares at her. It’s the tiniest bit creepy only Santana doesn’t scare easily. Brittany is still staring at her and Santana is going to break the eye contact in a minute, not because she’s uncomfortable but just because if she doesn’t they may just sit here for a few hours, as it seems like Brittany is determined not to talk.
‘I thought you said you’d say a lot more when you stepped over the door step? Would you like a coffee or anything?’
‘Haha, yeah sorry, I just kind of zoned out.’
‘Figured. So coffee?’
‘Yeah thanks.’
The sound of the chair against the floor breaks the silence, and then the sound of the kettle boiling fills the gap. Santana’s still puzzling out Brittany’s presence as she’s spooning the instant coffee into two mugs. She wouldn’t come to brag because Brittany wouldn’t do that. Maybe she heard about the state Santana was in after the wedding and came to check on her, but then that means Quinn squealed and she wouldn’t. If she did then she’s not going to know what hits her when Santana sees her next (it will probably be Santana’s fist, unless they’re in a kitchen in which case a frying pan may be used, Santana’s always kind of fancied hitting someone with one.)
Santana places a mug in front of Brittany and sips at her own, observing Brittany over the top of her own mug. Brittany blows on her coffee and gulps down a mouthful, smiling instantly.
‘You remembered how I like it.’
‘Of course I did.’
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Set in the future. Brittany is married.
Author's note: This is the sequel to It's A Nice Day For A White Wedding, although as usual there are little references to other fictions that i've done. This is probably going to be a long haul as Brittany and Santana have a lot of stuff to work through, it'd be great if you stuck with it though :) Mainly from Brittany's point of view though there will be some Santana perspective thrown in!
Chapter One Chapter Six
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Santana was getting frustrated, it was the weekend, she does not work at the weekend, not any more, and that thick skulled ape from the office was bothering her about the Jenkins Case. She had prepped him on everything on Friday, but he seems incapable of processing information. Dude can’t even make a cup of coffee properly. In fact she wouldn’t be surprised if he’s phoning her now thinking it’s a Monday.
‘You know it’s a Saturday? Can’t this wait until Monday? Under decree 167 Jenkins is more than viable. No, that’s 154, it’s 167. Yes 1997 revised. Decree, hang on someone’s at the door, 189 also supports the claim and-’
Brittany? Santana stands in the doorway her phone still pressed to the side of her face, mouth slightly agape taking in the image of the woman she hasn’t seen in three months, since her wedding day, since that day. That idiot is still babbling in her ear although she can barely hear him over the sound of blood coursing through her system.
‘Sorry, I’m going to have to call you back.’ Santana ends the call still staring at the figure in her doorway. If this had happened two months ago, possibly even one, she would have said she was definitely delusional, but she’s been perfectly well for a month now, she’d hardly even thought about Brittany, that’s not strictly true, but she only thought about good things in association with Brittany.
Santana glances down to Brittany’s left hand, the wedding ring still prominently standing out on pale skin, and her chest tightens and begins to ache a little.
‘Hi.’
‘Hello.’
‘I, um, I moved here like last month and thought I’ll come around and say hi.’
‘Well, you’ve said that.’ Santana had tried to be biting and harsh but she couldn’t help but smile as she replied, taking in Brittany’s nervous form.
Brittany laughed lightly, nodding, ‘yeah guess I did! Would you mind if I said some other words too?’
‘You just did.’ Santana leans against her doorway, raising an eyebrow, she couldn’t help but jokingly make Brittany squirm; it was like old times, the banter. Except it wasn’t.
Brittany looked crestfallen for a second before she smiled at Santana. ‘True. But I’d say a lot more than what I am saying now if you didn’t leave me on the doorstep. It’s rude.’
‘Oh I’m awfully sorry Lady Woodfall, please forgive me. I offer my humblest apologies, do please come in.’ This time Santana let the smallest trickle of acid enter her voice, but she fought to make sure her eyes were light and playful as she bowed down and held the door open for the blonde to enter.
Brittany nodded in acquiescence and went through to the kitchen, sitting on one of the wooden chairs.
Santana sits across from Brittany, she’s sitting in the same chair she sat in the day she got the invite. The memory surfaces to the forefront of her mind and her eyes are only seeing Brittany’s and Camden’s name in that delicate handwriting for second, before a flash of darkness interjects, Santana shakes it off, looking directly at Brittany. It’s awkward. They sit in silence for what seems like forever and Santana’s not sure if Brittany’s expecting them to communicate telepathically or something because she’s just staring Santana out. Santana is getting a little annoyed, Brittany shows up at her house and offers no explanation and just stares at her. It’s the tiniest bit creepy only Santana doesn’t scare easily. Brittany is still staring at her and Santana is going to break the eye contact in a minute, not because she’s uncomfortable but just because if she doesn’t they may just sit here for a few hours, as it seems like Brittany is determined not to talk.
‘I thought you said you’d say a lot more when you stepped over the door step? Would you like a coffee or anything?’
‘Haha, yeah sorry, I just kind of zoned out.’
‘Figured. So coffee?’
‘Yeah thanks.’
The sound of the chair against the floor breaks the silence, and then the sound of the kettle boiling fills the gap. Santana’s still puzzling out Brittany’s presence as she’s spooning the instant coffee into two mugs. She wouldn’t come to brag because Brittany wouldn’t do that. Maybe she heard about the state Santana was in after the wedding and came to check on her, but then that means Quinn squealed and she wouldn’t. If she did then she’s not going to know what hits her when Santana sees her next (it will probably be Santana’s fist, unless they’re in a kitchen in which case a frying pan may be used, Santana’s always kind of fancied hitting someone with one.)
Santana places a mug in front of Brittany and sips at her own, observing Brittany over the top of her own mug. Brittany blows on her coffee and gulps down a mouthful, smiling instantly.
‘You remembered how I like it.’
‘Of course I did.’