a/n: Hey ;) I decided to give it a shot at writing a Brittana fic. I watch the show and have read a decent amount of fanfic. I'll try to match up my characters relatively close to the show, but it is an AU story. It's also from Brittany's perspective.

I hope you enjoy it! Please leave a review to let me know what you think, good or bad. Thanks! :)

Chapter 1: Not Jewish

I've never given much thought to getting married. I don't really see myself as the type to have a boyfriend either for that matter. Sure I've kissed guys and done other stuff too, but that's only because they buy me drinks if I go dancing, and that's the only way I can pay them back. I don't have that much money to spend on drinks. Sometimes when I take Mrs. Gunderson shopping or help her clean her house she'll give me money that I can use to buy drinks. Sometimes I just buy special treats for Lord Tubbington instead.

The crowd of people around the park gazebo started clapping, and I squint my eyes against the sun so I can just see the groom lifting his bride up from the dipping kiss. The kiss is always my favorite part of a wedding, at least in movies. I've only ever been to one wedding. I got to be the flower girl for my mom's wedding when she married my stepdad, but I was only three. We looked super happy in the pictures, though, so I'm pretty sure I had fun. That was before Katie was born. I don't think she's ever got to go to a wedding.

The bride and groom are just making their way back up the aisle, hand in hand, and are making their way towards the shiny white limo parked at the curb of the park. They look so happy, and I can't help as the corners of my mouth lift up as I watch them peck each other on the lips before he helps her into the back of the limo. Wedding kisses are my favorite because everyone's so happy.

The wedding crowd slowly starts to disperse as the limo pulls away. I look around the park and realize the ducks have lost interest in me. How long have I been here? My shift probably starts soon. People always tell me that I get distracted too easily. I look down and realize that I've been done eating my lunch for a long time now. Of course it never takes long to eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the park because I can't help throwing pieces of the crust to the ducks. And if one duck gets a piece of crust, it's only fair that they all get a piece. That way they stay happy, and if they're all happy then they'll come back to say 'hi' the next time I spend my lunch break at the park.

I crumple up the plastic sandwich bag in my fist and stuff it into my shorts pocket so I don't accidently litter in the park. I'll have to remember to throw it away at work so it doesn't go through the laundry. Before I stand I run my thumb over the engraving on the bench seat.

M+B. Mom and Brittany. This is our bench. I remember Mom said if we leave our names on it then it will always be ours even if we didn't come to the park together. I didn't know you could carve your name on public benches, but Mom said it was okay because it was so old and no one would even notice. It's not hard for me to find though, but I know where to look for it.

I finally stand up and wave goodbye to the ducks. They quack at me when I walk away, and I think they're trying to tell me 'thank you' or 'goodbye.' I wonder if there are scientists that study what animals say. I should ask Katie. She knows smart things like that.

xXxXx

I push open the glass door into Holly's, and immediately I feel the frigid air from the AC. Rachel turns around from wiping down a table when she hears the bell, and her shoulders drop in an exaggerated sigh when she realizes it's just me.

"There you are, Brittany." She walks the couple steps towards me. "Your shift started 10 minutes ago." I look around the café and notice Bob reading his newspaper at his regular table towards to back. He's here everyday at the same time. Newspaper and black coffee. I think he comes here because he doesn't know what to do ever since he retired, and maybe he has no friends. At least he's never brought a friend with him to the café. I turn back to Rachel and notice she's looking at me like she's expecting an answer. Did she ask me a question?

"Are you supposed to go home? Are you late for something?" I asked her. Maybe she had somewhere to be and couldn't leave until I got here because Bob was still finishing his coffee and reading his paper.

"No, Brittany, I do not have somewhere else to be. My shift doesn't end for another hour, but punctuality is a fundamental business virtue, and I suggest you get a watch so you can get here on time." I look down at my feet and start to scuff the left toe of my converse on the tile floor. "Really, Brittany, this is the real world, and this is your job. You really need to make an effort here. And what have I told you about not slouching?" She grabs my shoulders and pushes them back, forcing me to stand up straight. I lift my chin and meet her eyes, and she gives a satisfied nod before heading back to the table she was wiping down when I got here.

I haven't known Rachel for that long. I started working at Holly's a year and a half ago, and she had only been working here five weeks before me. The way she acted when I got here though you'd think she owned the café. It didn't surprise me that she quickly got promoted to assistant manager. I didn't mind though. I'm not smart enough to make the important decisions, and I think Rachel is good at making important decisions and likes deciding things because it makes her feel important. And even though she can be really bossy sometimes and forces me to do things like wear my hair up in a ponytail and stand up straight (even though there's nothing in the employee manual that says we have to do those things) I like her, and I think we're friends.

I slowly walk around the café counter, head back towards the kitchen and veer off into the small employee room. I walk to my cubby, pull out my black apron, and reach my arms behind my back to make a bow with the apron strings. One time I forgot my apron at home and I dropped a latte all down my front. It was super hot and my legs felt like they were on fire. My boss made me sit in the back and put ice on my legs, and she told me that's why we wear our aprons. Even if she hadn't told me that I still wouldn't forget my apron again. It really hurts to spill hot coffee on you. Now I just leave my apron here all the time so I don't forget it, but Rachel sometimes takes it to her house to wash it for me, but she never forgets to bring it back.

I make my way back out to the café. No new customers, and it looks like Bob is just about finished with his paper, which means he'll be heading home soon too. Afternoon shifts are the worst because there's never anyone here and I get super bored. Although we do sell food too, most people come to the café for coffee in the morning. Once school starts again next week we get busier because college students drink coffee all day long, not just in the mornings. Then it's not so bad to work in the afternoons because there's always people around.

The rustling of newspaper snaps me out of my reverie. Bob slowly folds his paper back up and tucks it under his arm while he stands.

"Brittany," he smiles at me and tips his hat while looking my direction, "always a pleasure, my dear."

I smile back at him and give him a little wave. "Thanks, Bob. I'll see you tomorrow." He smiles one last time before turning and heading towards the door.

I turn my back to walk over to his table, pick up his coffee mug, and take it behind the counter to the dirty dish bin. It's the only dirty dish in the bin. Puck must have grabbed the dishes left from the lunch rush before I got here. I'm surprised he's here already. He's always late to work because he sleeps in too late or is busy hanging out with his friends. He doesn't seem to care that much, but he's a hard worker when he's here. Plus Holly is his aunt, and I think it's against the law or something to fire family members if they work for you. They don't look that much alike though. I wonder if Holly is Jewish too.

I snap my head to the café in search of Rachel so I can ask her if Holly is Jewish. As I turn, my eyes open in shock as they land on a young woman standing at the counter. How did I not hear her coming in the door? She must have snuck in while Bob was walking out.

"Hi." She says with a satisfied smile. She can obviously tell that she's startled me. I just stand there with my eyes wide and my mouth slightly hanging open.

I've definitely never seen her before. I would have remembered her. Her skin was a natural tan that shone radiantly in the sun coming through the front windows. Her dark hair was falling in rolling curls around her shoulders, and her eyes were a warm yet mysterious brown that made me want to lean in to see if I could see something else in them. My eyes slowly dropped down and saw she wore red canvas flats that perfectly matched the red of her slouchy tank top, and short denim shorts that showed off her toned bronze legs. Abruptly, I realize that I still hadn't said a word and snapped my eyes back to her face.

"I'm not Jewish." The words were falling out of my mouth before I even knew what was happening. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Her face changed from an amused smile to one of confusion. Just as quickly it changed back to a smile, but one that seemed to be holding back a laugh.

"That's good to know," she said, finally letting out the little giggle she was holding back. "I'm not either." I don't know what to say, and I don't want to say something stupid again, so I just stare at her, fixated on her deep, dark eyes. I don't know how much time has passed until I feel Rachel standing next to me.

"Brittany! For heaven's sake, what are you doing?" Rachel's question seemed to snap me back to reality. "Did you even take her order?"

I turn to look at Rachel, "Uh, no. I…" I've worked at this job for a year and a half. How did I forget to take her order? "I forgot." I turn back to the girl but get interrupted before I can ask her what she'd like.

"Well why don't you go refill the salt shakers, while I'll take care of the customer." I look back to Rachel, who is impatiently staring at me, then back to the girl, who is now trying (unsuccessfully) to hide her amused grin, then finally back to Rachel.

"Yeah. Okay." I turn quickly on my heels and make a beeline for the back. I can still feel the heat burning my cheeks. I'm sure I must look as red a tomato right now.

I can hear Rachel apologizing to the girl for my behavior as I reach the kitchen door. When I slap the door open, Puck looks up at me. Seeing my flustered red cheeks causes him to smirk.

"What happened?" He asks with a chuckle. He puts down the knife he was using to cut carrots and quickly wipes off his hands before throwing down the towel. He leans both fists against the counter and looks at me expectantly.

"Nothing," I say rather quickly. What did happen? "There was just a girl, a customer, and I forgot to take her order, and then I said something really stupid."

"Haha! Classic Brittany!" Puck threw back his head in an exaggerated laugh. "What did you say?" He looks back at me, his face plastered with a huge grin.

"Um…I said that I wasn't Jewish. I don't even know where that came from." I shake my head and cover my face with my hand. "I am so random!"

"Did she say something back?" Puck mimics me and shakes his head, waiting for me to continue.

"Uh, yeah. She said she wasn't either." I let out an embarrassed laugh. She must think I'm a complete idiot.

"Ah, too bad. My mom keeps bugging me to date a Jewish girl…" His voice trails off and he picks up the towel he tossed down earlier. Suddenly he snaps his eyes back to me and he asks, "Was she hot?"

"What?" I was a little surprised by his question. I shouldn't be surprised; I mean it is Puck I'm talking to after all. He does date a lot of girls and is constantly checking out any decently attractive female that steps into the café. "Oh, I mean, she's…" I didn't know how to describe her. Sure, she was attractive, but hot just seemed like the wrong word.

"Well if the first thing that pops into your head isn't, 'Yeah, Puck, she's smoking!' then I'm not wasting my time with that one." Puck seems to have lost interest in my story. He picks up the knife and continues on the carrots.

I stare at the cutting board, watching the blade go back and forth, up and down. It's not that she wasn't hot. I'm sure Puck would love to go out with her. There's a better word to describe her though. She's…beautiful. Like a kind of beautiful that doesn't belong in a normal place like Lima. She's like a princess from a fairytale. She belongs in a fancy city, or maybe in a magazine advertising makeup or dresses. Maybe she's a model…

I slowly turn around and reach my hands up to tighten my ponytail. I take a deep breath and push open the door to enter the café. Rachel is the only one there, but I still look around to make sure there is no one that can surprise me again.

"If you're looking for the customer you so rudely handled, she left." I shift my eyes down to my shoes again and nervously rub my fingers in front of me. "She just wanted a coffee to go" At least she still ordered something and I didn't completely lose her business by acting like an idiot. I lifted my chin just for a second, long enough to catch Rachel's glance at me before she returns her attention to the napkin tray she is currently refilling.

She continued talking, "Thanks to you she didn't leave a tip, but luckily I'll probably have another chance to win her over." At this my eyes snap back up to Rachel, but I only see the back of her head. "She just moved here. Her family is setting up shop in the vacant lot across the street."