Title: The World is a Stage 5/?
Pairing: Brittany/Santana, Brittany/OC
Word Count: 3300
Disclaimer: Glee is copyrighted and belongs to Ryan Murphy 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.
Summary: Sort of AU/Future fic, the lives of Santana and Brittany in their early twenties.
Spoilers: References to Season 1.
A/N: Character back stories will be disclosed as the fic progresses and I’m running with the whole AU aspect of this fic, even though it touches upon events of Season 1, I just hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I am writing it.
Previous chapters here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4
The sun was inching higher in the mass of blue sky, birds sang their own unique little tunes and Santana Lopez was sat on the decking enjoying her continental breakfast of fruit, croissant and coffee. She scanned the pages of the local newspaper for anything worthy of a read when a shadow descended upon her. The brunette looked up through her sunglasses and promptly returned to her reading.
“What are you doing here?” she asked nonchalantly.
“I work for you remember?” Quinn said as she sat down having poured herself a coffee.
“Don’t you have to take Beth to school?” Santana asked.
“I did that already. It’s 9.30.”
“Right.” Santana said, nodding her head and unaware of the time.
“I heard you were last to leave the set last night.”
“Yeah, I was desperate to nail a move.” The brunette said, her attention deviating from the newspaper. She picked up her coffee mug and took a long satisfying sip.
“Gotta keep Berry on her toes. So to speak.” Quinn said.
“Absolutely, there’s no way Berry is going to outperform me on this movie.” The Latina smirked.
Quinn groaned, “It’s going to be one of those ‘anything she can do I can do better’ things isn’t it?”
“Yeah, be prepared for the ride of your life.” Santana laughed. “And remember whose side you’re on Fabray.”
“Always yours Lopez.” The blonde reassured.
“That reminds me.” Santana said wistfully. She paused for a moment before continuing, “Mike’s got a new assistant.”
“Yeah. She was there last night.” The brunette offered.
“Yeah? Elaborate Lopez, what’s she like?”
“Uh-oh.” Quinn responded. Santana frowned at her friend.
“Hey! Nothing’s gonna happen, she’s married.”
“Right, sorry, please continue.”
“She’s slightly taller than me, blonde, blue eyes, sweet, sensitive, caring, funny, a great dancer, very helpful and forthcoming.” Santana risked a look at her friend who was sat with a concentrated look on her face.
“You do realise you described someone just like Brittany right?” When Santana didn’t say anything in return, the realisation dawned on Quinn, “Oh no. No freaking way Santana.” The brunette simply shrugged. “Let me get this straight. Brittany is Mike’s new assistant?” The brunette nodded in affirmation, “On the movie in which you are the star?” again Santana agreed, “And you’re ok with that?”
“I don’t know.” The Latina answered honestly.
“Wow.” Quinn said trying to process the information.
“I know right. It’s like I have so many thoughts going on in my head right now.”
“How dare she.”
“Excuse me?” Santana asked, disbelieving what she just heard.
“How dare she waltz back into your life like that.”
“Hey.” Santana said leaning across the table on her elbows, one finger pointed at the blonde, “You don’t know anything yet so don’t you dare judge her, ok?” Quinn sat back with her hands in the air.
“I don’t think I need to tell you to be careful San. She was the love of your life.”
“Yes, thank you. I am aware of that.” Santana spat. “I just, we’re going to work at being friends again.”
“You think that’s possible?” Quinn asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know Quinn, that’s why we’re going to try.” The Latina raised her voice in frustration. She sighed, “Five years she was out of my life, five long years, I’d rather have her in my life as a friend than not at all.” She explained.
“Ok.” The blonde conceded with a shrug.
“And don’t forget she’s married.”
“You seem ok about that.” Quinn pointed out nonchalantly.
“You don’t seem surprised by that Quinn Fabray.” Santana stated suspiciously with narrow eyes and a tilted head.
“I knew she was married.” The blonde confessed, looking longingly into the bottom of her coffee mug, anything to avoid Santana’s gaze right now.
“You knew? And you didn’t tell me?” the Latina was seething. “How did you know?”
“My mom told me.” Quinn answered, looking up, “You weren’t here San, you were on some press junket or something and were dating that what’s-his-name or what’s-her-face, I don’t know, it’s kinda hard to keep track sometimes. And I guess I just forgot by the time you came home.” The blonde whinged.
“Don’t whine Quinn, it’s unattractive.” Santana said, folding her arms across her chest. “I wish you had told me.”
“What difference would it have made?”
“It would have stopped me from thinking that maybe one day there may still be a chance for us.” Santana yelled.
“Oh.” Quinn said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s too late, she’s here, she’s married, but it’s ok.” Santana tried to sound convincing. She took a swig of coffee to calm herself.
“Do you still love her?” Quinn asked.
“I’ll never not love her. But I fell out of love with her eventually. It’s just seeing her again, it was like she never left you know?”
“That’s what best friends do, they can pick up where they left off with no problem at all.” Quinn answered.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Santana smiled. “I’m not going dwell on this Quinn and I need to stop people treating me like I’m still in love with her ok? I missed my best friend and now she’s back. It can only be a good thing right?” Santana asked.
Brittany was in her living room dancing in front of the television screen, she was going through the dvd’s Mike had given her the previous day. She smiled as she moved through the routine Santana had so much trouble with the night before. It had taken several further attempts, but Brittany got her there in the end. The Latina professing her eternal gratefulness in the next phase of operation kick Berry’s ass.
“Where were you last night?” the gruff voice interrupted her musings.
“I was at my new job, working late.” Brittany offered by way of explanation. Her eyes trained on the screen before her.
“You didn’t think to call me?” Bryan asked slightly disgruntled as he moved further into the room.
“You knew I was doing dance stuff Bryan, it’s never bothered you when I’ve been late before, or even on tour, you know the demands of my job.” The blonde said honestly.
“You haven’t told me anything about this new job.” Bryan stated. “Are you working with him?” he said pointing at a dancing Mike Chang on the screen.
“Yeah. I’m working on a movie, I’m Mike’s new assistant choreographer.” She said proudly.
“How do you know him?” her husband asked.
“I’ve known him since like Junior High. Jeez Bry, what’s with all the questions?”
“I just want to know what my wife is doing and who with.” Bryan stated, taking a seat on the sofa.
“You can be such a moron sometimes.” Brittany said laughing, she continued with her dance moves, never missing a beat.
“And you can be such a retard sometimes.” Bryan retorted. Brittany stopped dancing and suddenly became silent, her head dropping, no one had called her that since High School and she had shrugged it off because they were kids, besides, she had Santana to protect her, no one had dared utter those words for fear of their own safety. Tears began to form in her eyes, it was hurtful. Upon seeing her distress Bryan stood and walked toward her quickly, putting out his arms, “Britt, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it I . . .”
“Santana always said that no one who truly loved me would ever say anything like that to me.” She looked up into his apologetic eyes, tears trickling down her face.
“What has Santana fucking Lopez have to do with this?” Bryan yelled.
“She was my best friend.”
“WAS your best friend Britt, did you fuck that up too?”
“Go away Bryan, I don’t want to see your face.” Brittany requested quietly, turning her back on him and not raising to the bait.
“You called me a moron!”
Brittany spun around, “I always call you a moron, your mother calls you a moron. And you’ve done nothing to prove that you are not a moron.” Brittany shouted uncharacteristically.
“I know, I’m sorry.” He said, his head dropping in shame. “I do you know.”
“Do what?” The blonde asked with a heavy sigh.
“Truly love you.”
“How can you love me if you can hurt me so easily like that?” she asked, her hands on her hips, waiting for a legitimate answer.
“I, I, said I’m sorry.” He offered. “Britt, we’re married, we fight, it happens. Real life is not some fairytale romance where everything is happy and flowery and full of rainbows.”
“It can be.” Brittany hissed through gritted teeth, clearly offended by his new words.
“No it can’t, get a grip Britt and grow up.” He said striding toward the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To the bathroom.” He stated. “I need to pee.”
The blonde could not help but smile, it was almost a comedy situation. So many times had an argument turned into laughter, it was how they were, but this time it felt different. Never before had he said such vile things to her. The anger in the dancer rose again.
“Well don’t pee all over the floor and make sure you put the seat down when you’re done.” She yelled. It was the only thing she could think of in that moment. She felt a sense of satisfaction when she heard the door to the bathroom slam. Seizing her opportunity, Brittany grabbed her belongings and darted toward the front door, she wasn’t going to let Bryan be the one to leave the apartment first.
Dance rehearsal was over for the day. Brittany walked over to the bench and sat down. Grabbing a towel, she wiped at the sweat that had formed on her brow and neck. She then picked a bottle of water out of her bag and took a decent swig before returning the cap to the bottle. The blonde tossed it into her bag and stood to gather her belongs, coming face to face with Santana as she did so.
“Hey.” Brittany said, trying not to look directly into Santana’s beautiful brown eyes.
“Britt what’s up?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” The blonde answered dejectedly.
“You’re not fine, I know that look.” Santana said softly. Brittany looked up and lost herself immediately in the Latina’s stare. The blonde broke eye contact and looked around, there were still people milling about.
“I can’t discuss it right now.” She said.
“That’s ok, come back to my trailer with me.” Santana offered. “If you want to, I mean, you don’t have to, obviously.” The brunette mumbled. Brittany smiled, she had seldom seen the other girl nervous, but found it endearing.
“I’d like that.” Brittany replied with a grin.
“There it is.” Santana smiled “Come on, I’ll make you a coffee.” She said linking her arm in Brittany’s and leading her away from the dance studio.
The trailer wasn’t huge, but it had all Santana needed, a bed, a sofa, a small kitchenette, a table and a tiny bathroom.
“This is cute.” Brittany said as she bounced up and down on the bed.
“Hey, I wouldn’t do that.” Santana said as she poured coffee into mugs, “It’s hardly the Ritz, that thing could snap.” She grinned.
“Oh right. Sorry.” Brittany laughed.
“Come and sit on the sofa, it’s more comfortable.” The Latina offered. Brittany followed instruction and sat with one leg beneath her, the other dangling over the edge. Santana handed her a steaming cup and sat down beside her.
“This is what grown up friends do right?” Brittany asked.
“Sure it is, Quinn and I do it all the time.” Santana smiled adoringly.
“How is Quinn? And Puck, and Beth?” the blonde asked in quick succession.
“They’re all great Britt. Beth has grown so much, it’s scary.”
“That’s cute.” The blonde said.
“Are you going to tell me what’s up or are we going to make small talk all day?”
“Small talk would be easier.” Brittany muttered. She took a sip of coffee before taking a steadying breath. Santana observed her, waiting patiently for her friend to talk when she was ready. “We had a fight.” Brittany revealed.
“Ok, that’s not something you do, or did.” Santana corrected herself.
“I know right? I only ever had one fight with you and it wasn’t even a real fight, well it was but it wasn’t because we weren’t nasty to each other.” Brittany rambled.
“What did he say to you Britt? It was a fight with Bryan right?”
“Yeah. I called him moron.” Santana laughed, it was unlike Brittany to insult anyone, she pretty much liked everyone she came into contact with, and even if she didn’t, she would not say a bad word.
“Why did you call him that?” the brunette asked.
“I always do, his mom does, it’s not really meant as an insult.” The blonde explained.
“So what happened then?”
“He . . .” Brittany paused, “don’t get mad.” The blonde asked.
“I can’t promise you that B, did he hurt you?” Santana asked sitting more upright, she put down her hot cup of coffee knowing she was going dislike what she heard.
“He called me a retard.” The dancer said sadly looking down into her cup. Santana jumped out of her seat.
“He said what!?” Santana all but yelled.
“He called me a retard.” Brittany repeated painfully. Santana stood still, her hands on her hips, she looked skywards and let go of a huge exasperated breath. Clenching her teeth her mind rushed through a million different scenarios, each of them ending with Bryan hitting the deck. She looked at Brittany, the girl looked lost and forlorn. The Latina’s heart broke a little. Brittany was hurt which meant whoever was responsible would at some point experience Santana Lopez’s wrath. She crouched down in front of Brittany, took the cup from her hands and placed it down on the table. The brunette took Brittany’s hands in her own and held them tightly.
“Britt.” She said softly. “Britt,” she tried again, “look at me, please.” Those words were enough to break the blonde, she looked up, tears streaming down her face. “Oh babe.” Santana said, she jumped back onto the couch and pulled the blonde into her, hugging her tightly.
“I’m sorry.” Brittany said.
“Shhh don’t be sorry.” Santana said, stroking the other girls soft blonde locks. Brittany lifted her head, looking intently at the brunette.
“It’s so much to take, Bryan, you, this.” She said.
“It’s been an emotional couple of days, it’s going to get you at some point. But Britt,” she said, “Bryan is your husband he should not be saying things like that to you. No one who truly loves you will ever call you that, or anything that hurts you.” Santana was angry, Brittany deserved so much better than Bryan.
“I told him that.”
“Yeah, it just caused another argument.” Brittany smiled sadly.
“If he wasn’t your husband then he would be sure to receive the full Santana Lopez experience.”
“Wow, he’s really made you mad.” The blonde observed.
“He hurt you Britt and called you names. I won’t let anyone do that.” The Latina fumed.
“You don’t have to San, it’s my fight.”
“You’re fight is my fight Britt.” She said sternly.
“It was.” Brittany said. Santana sighed and inched away from the other woman.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” The brunette realised, they had come together again almost like nothing had changed.
“I love that you still care.” The blonde offered with a smile.
“I’ll never not care.” Santana said sadly. “I promised I’ll always be here for you and I will. And I get that you’re capable of standing up for yourself, but Britt, if or when I ever meet Bryan, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“Ok.” Brittany smiled. “Thanks Santana.”
“For this. I haven’t had a proper best friend since . . . well, you know.” The blonde explained. Santana smiled reassuringly, she had terribly missed their interactions and how easily conversation came. Being friends with Brittany was like putting on an old pair of favourite shoes, you know they fit, they’re comfortable and most of all you can rely on them. Only Brittany was way better than a pair of shoes. “It’s partly my fault.” Brittany said quietly.
“What’s partly your fault?” Santana’s eyes were narrowed again, unsure of what exactly Brittany was talking about. Their break up flashed flew the Latina’s mind, she closed her eyes tightly at the image, willing the visuals and the thought’s to disappear.
“Bryan.” Brittany said. Santana’s eyes flew open.
“Britt, him being a jackass is not your fault.”
“I didn’t tell him about my job.”
“Why?” Santana asked.
“Because of you.” The blonde answered shyly.
“Me?” the brunette asked puzzled, “Does he know about us?”
“He knew were best friends and he only knows that because of the picture on Ellen.”
“You saw that?” Santana asked.
“Yeah, you’re like on TV, billboards and in magazines everywhere.” Brittany smiled.
“It’s crazy right?” The Latina laughed.
“I think it’s great. You’re like the best actress and you’re so pretty.” Santana blushed and tilted her head downwards, somewhat embarrassed by her friend’s words.
“Why don’t you bring Bryan to the set, show him around and then he’ll understand what your job is and why it’s so important to you.” Santana suggested begrudgingly, she really did not want to do anything for Brittany’s husband, but her friend was unhappy and she needed to fix that.
“Can I? That’s a great idea San.” Brittany threw herself at Santana and gave her a bone crushing hug. “He’s a massive fan of yours San, he’ll love me forever if I do that.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do that then.” The brunette laughed nervously.
“Oh San, you’re silly.” Brittany berated, swiping at the other girl’s arm. She sighed loudly and sat back, picking up her coffee.
“There’s something else isn’t there Britt?”
“I don’t want to see him tonight, I don’t want to go home. He needs to know he’s upset me.” Brittany said quietly.
Santana sighed and closed her eyes momentarily, becoming involved in Brittany’s marriage was not what she envisaged, though she supposed this was going to be part and parcel of their friendship. After all, she frequently had either Quinn or Puck on the other end of the phone or in her kitchen bending her ear about their tumultuous relationship.
“I’m going to a party tonight, it’s one of the cast’s birthday, why don’t you come? And if you don’t want to go home after you can stay at mine, I have a couple of spare rooms.” She offered.
“Really? Can I?”
“Sure you can Britt. You’re my friend right?”
“Right.” Brittany said excitedly. “Ohmygosh, what am I going to wear?” the blonde began. She continued to talk animatedly about the plans for the evening, only one thought running through Santana’s mind, remembering how amorous the blonde would become following several alcoholic beverages. She hoped to high heaven that was one thing that had changed for the blonde, or that now she was married she would show greater restraint, because Santana wasn’t sure that she could.