Pairing: Brittany/Santana, Brittany/OC
Word Count: 3000
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.
Her head was pounding, she could barely make out the words on the page before her as her eyelids grew heavier. The cup of coffee on the table was barely having an effect, no matter how strong, tiredness and hangover were winning. She was coming to the end of the page when her trailer door flew open.
“Oh thank god you’re here.” The blonde breathed out of breath.
“Where else would I be?” Santana said now suddenly awake. She flipped over the page of her script as she was running through her lines. Quinn fell through the door and stumbled over to the bed. “Q, what the hell?” Santana asked, questioning her friend’s bedraggled state.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“And you didn’t think to check the trailer first?” Santana asked with a smirk. “What’s up?”
“Have you been on Twitter today?”
“Nope, I’m trying to limit my presence on there, it was becoming obsessive.” She admitted.
“You need to go on there.”
“Why?” The Latina’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Just do it.” Quinn demanded.
“Okaaay.” The brunette drawled as she powered up the laptop on the table before her. “Are you going to give me a clue?”
“There’s a photo.” Quinn said cryptically.
“It’s from last night.”
“Quinn just spit it out, you’re talking to the least patient person on the planet here.” Santana snapped.
“It’s of you and Brittany. Kissing.”
“What? How? Are you sure?” Santana quick fired at the blonde.
“It sure as hell looks like you two.” Quinn said, she stood from the bed and moved to sit next to the actress. Santana selected her web browser, her foot tapped impatiently as she waited for the page to load. “Stop. That.” The blonde said through gritted teeth, her hand firmly placed on Santana’s knee, the brunette turned and scowled at her in true Santana Lopez style. “That look won’t work with me young lady.”
“I am not your child.”
“Sometimes I feel like it.” Quinn sighed.
“Here.” Santana clicked here and there, entered her username and password details and searched for the picture in question. As the image loaded on the screen, Santana’s face drained of all colour. “Oh shit.”
“See, I told you it was you two.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” She said quietly.
“Oh really? Because that looks like a married woman you’re kissing and it’s already doing the rounds on the net.”
“Oh shit, oh shit.” Santana repeated. “But seriously Q, that’s when she literally just pecked me on the lips, I walked away after that. I swear.”
“Ok, ok. There’s not much we can do about it now. You need to post something.”
“Has Brit seen this?”
“Has Brit seen what?” Came a cheerful voice from the trailer door. Santana spun around at the sound of her friend’s voice.
“Jeez, I need to start locking that door.” She said light heartedly.
“But then I wouldn’t be able to get in.” Brittany said. Quinn rolled her eyes, Santana in turn shot her assistant a warning glance. “Oh hey, Santana, Quinn, I want you to meet Bryan, my husband.” Both women focused on the door as a tall, dark haired guy came into view. Santana’s arms crossed instinctively, her scowl firmly set. As Bryan walked towards her, the brunette jumped up out of her seat, trying to hide the picture on the laptop. The tall man held out his hand for Santana to shake.
“Hi Santana, I’m such a huge fan.” The brunette shook his hand reluctantly.
“Hi, nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” She said in true best friend style. She was an actress, and however much Santana despised Brittany’s husband, she could pretend she didn’t with ease.
“Thank you for taking care of my wife.”
“My pleasure.” Santana grinned, ever so tempted to step away from the laptop.
“San.” Brittany squealed as she hurled herself at the brunette, she threw her arms around her friend. “Oh, that looks like . . . oh.” Brittany said, pulling away from the brunette, Santana had closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the onslaught. The blonde laughed. “Bryan look at this.”
Santana was shoved aside; she looked questioningly at Quinn beside her who simply shrugged. The actress watched as Brittany’s husband got closer to the screen. “That’s when Santana was moody, so I gave her a little kiss to cheer her up.”
“Always works for me. That picture is hot, I have to download a copy of that.” Santana opened her mouth in fury, her scowl had been replaced with full on rage, she was about to speak when she felt a hand clap over her mouth.
“Not now.” Quinn said into her ear. Brittany turned around and mouthed an apology to the brunette.
“Hey Santana, you should come over to our place for dinner one night. I’ll have to cook though, Brit’s so bad she burns salad.” Bryan laughed at his own joke.
“You’ll have to arrange that through me. I’m Quinn, Santana’s assistant.” The blonde put out her hand, Bryan took it.
“You went to school with Brit too right?” he asked.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Are you the celibate cheerleader who got knocked up by your boyfriend’s best friend?” Bryan asked.
“Ohmygod Brittany?” Quinn turned her attention and her frustration onto the dancer.
“Bryan, why don’t we go and meet Rachel, she’ll enjoy talking to you.” Brittany said, steering her husband towards the door.
“Brit?” Santana said, “I need for you to go through some steps with me when you have a moment please?”
“Sure, I’ll be about twenty minutes.” Brittany said, following her husband out of the trailer.
“Oh. My. God.” Quinn said slowly.
“He must be a douchebag, you’ve blasphemed twice in the last five minutes.”
“Is she really that stupid?” The blonde asked with disbelief.
“Usually I would kick your ass for saying anything like that about Brittany, but I can’t help but wonder on that one.” Santana said, her arms crossed, her gaze averted to the path Brittany had taken away from her trailer.
“What are you going to say to her?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t know. But, he’s an asshole and we have to make her see that. It’s our job as her friends.”
“Amen to that.” Quinn said. “How was your talk this morning?” the blonde asked Santana, steering the subject in a new direction. The brunette sighed dramatically, flapped her arms up and then down to her sides and threw herself onto her bed.
“It was . . . educational and . . . emotional . . . and please don’t give Brittany a hard time for leaving me. It’s over, it’s in the past. Her behaviour last night was . . . irrational, she was drunk and she regrets it.”
“Is that all?” Quinn asked suspiciously, knowing fully how long the two girls had been talking for.
“No, it’s not all, but there are things I can’t discuss with you right now.” Santana answered. “Please trust me Quinn.” The brunette pleaded when she earned a questioning raised eyebrow from her friend. The blonde threw her hands up in defeat.
“Fine, whatever. Any mess is yours and I won’t be around to clear it up, ok?”
“Ok.” Santana smiled.
“Now, get on that Twitter and write something funny.” Quinn demanded.
“Ooh I love it when you get all forceful.” The brunette winked.
“Pervert.” Quinn shrieked as a pillow flew across the room and hit her on the head. Santana stood and walked over to the laptop.
“Why do I need to explain anything?” the brunette asked. Quinn shrugged.
“If the press get hold of this and figure out Brittany is a married woman, your reputation could be in tatters.”
“Her husband doesn’t care.”
“That’s not the point, if people out there think you’re a home wrecker, you could lose a lot.” Quinn reasoned. Santana sighed.
“Fine. I’ll retweet it.” She relented.
“Who posted it anyway?” Quinn asked.
“Erm, let me see.” Santana’s tongue poked through her lips as she concentrated on the screen before her. “Oh shit.” The brunette muttered once again.
“We need to work on your language.” Quinn stated. “Who was it?”
“My language is fucking great thank you Your Worship.” Santana smirked. “It was Berry.”
“What? Let me see that.”
“Apparently you already have Miss Marple.”
“Yeah only because some of the crew were looking at it.” The blonde defended.
“I am going to kill her. I am actually going to kill Rachel Berry.” Santana said, her fists balling by her sides.
“Ok, but first can you deal with that?”
“Right, let’s see. How can I explain this? Ok, ‘My best friend Brittany, happy to see me after five years’ that is so lame.”
“It’ll do. The lamer the better.”
“If this backfires, it’s your fault.” Santana said to Quinn. The blonde rolled her eyes and picked up the pillow at her feet, she hit the brunette over the head with it before rushing out of the trailer, unwilling to find out what Santana’s retaliation would be.
Twenty minutes later, as promised, Brittany popped her head through the door of Santana’s trailer. The brunette was laying on her bed soundly asleep, seemingly exhausted from the late night and morning of emotional turmoil. The blonde crept further into the room, closing the door behind her. She sat down on the bed beside Santana and smiled at the sleeping beauty. Brittany had always enjoyed watching the Latina sleep and right now she was feeling particularly nostalgic. Tentatively, the blonde stretched out a hand, she stroked the brunette’s hair back from her face and ran her slender fingers through thick, silken locks. She missed this, she missed the intimacy she had shared with Santana, the actress had always been so sweet and tender with Brittany, it made her feel special. Having Santana take care of her last night was just like how it used to be. Bryan had his moments, he could be sweet and attentive, but never had she felt like she did with Santana, what they had could never be replaced. The blonde shook her head, trying to rid the thoughts from her mind, she felt guilty, she was married after all. Santana stirred under Brittany’s touch.
“Santana.” Brittany cooed. The brunette’s eyes fluttered open, she smiled upon seeing Brittany sitting over her, the blonde returned the smile.
“Hey yourself, you looked so cute sleeping.” Brittany admitted with a blush.
“You always used to say that.” Santana said quietly. She struggled to sit up, sleep still heavy throughout her body.
“I’m sorry about Bryan. He was . . .”
“An asshole.” Santana finished.
“I don’t care what he says about me, but when he insinuates stuff about you and insults Quinn, that’s when I have a problem Brit.”
“He doesn’t know about us and what we had, if he did he would have been angry.” Brittany admitted quietly.
“Why?” The brunette asked confused, she rubbed her eyes with the back her hands.
“I didn’t want to share it. I didn’t want him to trivialise what we had.” Explained Brittany.
“Does he know about the baby?” Santana asked.
“No.” The blonde said, she fiddled with the fabric of her sweater, unable to look at the woman beside her.
“Brit I need to ask you something.” Santana said.
“What is it?” Brittany asked, nervously looking up at her friend. Santana scooped up her hand in her own.
“Who was the father?” Brittany was quite taken aback by the question, she hadn’t been expecting it, not at this particular moment anyway. She frowned and pursed her lips, thinking of her reply and then answered her best friend honestly.
“I don’t know.” The blonde answered. “I don’t remember who I . . . you know.” Tears stung her eyes. Santana pulled her closer into a hug. “I pretended she was yours, you’re the only one I remember.” It was true, Brittany had been driven to the brink of insanity trying to work out the father of her baby, so little did she remember about that night and exactly who was there. She knew she was promiscuous, she and Santana had fought to be the most popular girls in schools and their prowess was part and parcel of it. The blonde had ended up convincing herself the baby was Santana’s. It was after that drunken tomfoolery that Santana had convinced them to be exclusive, that from that moment on they only gave themselves to each other. Brittany was elated beyond belief, so many times she had dreamed of the moment as she had been in love with Santana for almost as long as she could remember and as it turned out, Santana had felt the same.
“Oh babe.” Santana said, tears threatening to spill from her brown orbs. She rubbed a hand up and down Brittany’s back in comfort. Truth be told, the Latina had always hoped for a family with the love of her life, had Brittany just told her, it could have been.
“That night was a mistake, I never should have let it happen.” Santana pulled away from the blonde, guilt plaguing her mind.
“It’s who we were then San, we can’t change the past.” Brittany said reflectively.
“I know, you’re right. I’m just sorry.” Santana offered with sincerity. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Why did you marry Bryan?” the actress asked.
“Honestly? Convenience, security, we’d been dating for some time and he loved me. I thought you weren’t coming back.”
“Do you love him?” Santana asked.
“Yeah.” Brittany admitted quietly.
“Ok.” Santana swallowed audibly, the next part would be painful for her to say, “I’ll try to be nice, but if he does or say anything to hurt you again, I really will kick his sorry ass.” The brunette said, attempting a small smile for her best friend.
“Deal. I want to kick his ass sometimes. He’s not the man I married.” Admitted the dancer.
“Have you thought of leaving him?” Santana asked hopeful.
“I can’t leave him because he’s an idiot.” Brittany laughed. “I took vows and I take them seriously.”
“You’re right.” Santana said dejectedly. “I have to get ready for my next scene Brit, I have to get to wardrobe.”
“Ok. Didn’t you want me to help you with some steps?”
“No Brit.” Santana smiled, “It was just an excuse to get you in here to talk to you alone.”
“Oh right. Clever.” Brittany smiled. “I am sorry about Bryan.”
“Don’t apologise for him Brittany.” Santana said, her eyes downcast, a thought hit her and her head shot up, “Where is he anyway?”
“Oh I left him with Rachel, seems they have a lot to talk about.” Brittany said smiling. Santana frowned.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” The brunette asked.
“Why?” Brittany asked, slightly confused, “Oh right.” She said as realisation dawned on her. It was one thing keeping her husband occupied by dumping him on Rachel Berry, but it was quite another when said actress was privy to have known the two women in high school and just how far their friendship extended. Rachel Berry also had a big mouth. Rachel Berry had also posted the picture of Santana and Brittany on Twitter for all the world to see. “What if she says something?”
“Well, we’ll have to trust that she won’t.” Santana replied, “But I’m not holding out much hope.” She said honestly.
“I don’t know how he would react.”
“The way he reacted to that photograph? I won’t be surprised if he tries to jump your bones in the middle of the set.” Santana visibly shuddered at the thought of someone else touching Brittany in a way she felt only she should.
“Or he could take it badly.”
“Brit,” Santana said softly, she pondered her words for a moment before speaking, “we have a past, if he finds out, he finds out. We’ll deal with it ok? If he does take it badly I’m here for you. I’m always here for you.”
“You’re the best San.” Brittany beamed, she pounced on top of the brunette, effectively pinning her to the mattress and she hugged her close. Santana was laughing, she loved the playful side of Brittany, she damn well loved every side of Brittany. But this was fun, it was carefree and it took her back to her childhood when they would roll around innocently, tackling and tickling one another until the other could barely breath. Those were the days. They were memories she had cherished during their five year hiatus. And now here she was, a very real Brittany laughing with her and tickling her like they used to all those years ago.
“Breaaaath. Briiiiiiit. Caaaaan’t. Breaaaath.” Santana struggled for air in between huge gasps of laughter.
“Oh you’re still breathing? I’m not trying hard enough!” Brittany giggled and continued to assault the brunette.
“Pleeeeaaaase.” Santana begged. The blonde relented, unwilling to make her friend suffer any longer. Santana lay on her back, her breathing quick and ragged, she stared at the ceiling, willing her breath to return to normal. She spared a glance over her heaving chest at the blonde. Brittany was sat starring at her, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes bright and loving. She leaned forward and stroked her hand down the soft skin of Santana’s face, her eyes never wavering.
“You’re so beautiful.” She whispered. Santana lay perfectly still, her breathing evening out, though her heartbeat was quickly ascending. She blinked a couple of times, ensuring she was indeed awake, it was confirmed when the blonde moved in closer, she could feel Brittany’s warm breath blanketing her face.
“BRIT.” There was a banging on the trailer door. “YOU IN THERE?”
“Fuck.” The girls muttered in unison as they scrambled to their feet.