Here's a new story, guys!


Santana Lopez has been teaching at McKinley High for six years at the age of 34, but you would never guess it.

Her long, curly, black ad brunette locks flow down her toned back, without the least bit of a wrinkle on her face. Plump, pink lips complement her filled cheeks and endearing dimples. Her body creamy brown and voluptuous has gotten her some stares. Many have asked of her secret; the creams, lotions, and potions she uses. Some even say she discovered the fountain of youth.

Santana Lopez shakes it off, though. Even laughs at it.

Her students love her relative nature to them, and coolness about the class. She may be heading to mid-age, but she still has her 18-year old mindset from ages ago. She knows what's hot and what's not, and what the kids think is funny and otherwise. She also takes it easy on them because she knows what it felt like to be overwhelmed with so much homework. So she's known as the "fun" teacher.

Santana Lopez would teach nothing other than Spanish at McKinley, and sure does a hell of a lot better of a job than Mr. Schuster did in her years.

He simply gave his students verbs to conjugate and his only method of teaching was, "Now, repeat after me. 'Hola' means hello. Say, 'hola'." Santana couldn't stand sitting in the back of his class, feet propped up on the desk in front of her and arms crossed. There was nothing wrong with that position. She even felt quite comfortable with it. But no, that was not why she couldn't stand the class. Santana believed the only way you could teach Spanish effectively to a non-Spanish speaker is to be a native yourself. Not someone who learned it in some preppy college for a few years. She couldn't stand Schuster's wannabe accent also. Since, she was determined to return and take over the Spanish department.

And she did.

Not only is she head of the Spanish department at McKinley, she's head of the entire language department also being the youngest teacher there.

Being head of department gets you the most pay, and Santana uses it to her advantage. Living in what she calls a "vintage apartment", her closet fills with many up to date fashions. That's another thing she is also known for by her students; her sense of style. Rather than wearing dull greys and browns in office attire, Santana aims for more vibrant and vivid colors that don't scream too ostentatious.

This style is vastly different from her younger years, as whenever she didn't have on a Cheerio uniform, she wore dark reds and blacks. She made effort to flatter her body and assets and never missed a mark. Now, for the students, she is a bit more reserved and mature.

Santana hates thinking about it, but she actually has changed since. She guesses everybody does and it's a process called "growing up" but she hates the reality. Back then she didn't need to worry about paying for anything or even the thing she worries most about.

Love.

She wasn't big on relationships, and didn't think she needed one. She hooked up with many guys and girls throughout her high school and college careers, but never wanted to go steady. But, as she ages older and older, Santana realizes that she might end up dying saying that she never loved anyone, and that no one ever loved her. The thought scared her a bit, and even her family and friends keep asking her if there's anyone in her life.

Santana never answers. She brushes the question aside, and quickly changes topics.

Sitting at her desk in the front of the room, Santana reads the last few sentences on a student's free response answer as she sips her morning coffee. Her legs are crossed, and she leans back comfortably in her cushioned swivel chair.

It's 7:55 am, and she begins to wait for student to file in for the 8:00 first period bell.

The classroom is completely silent except for the ticking of her clock until her phone suddenly rings.

The brunette glances at the screen before scrunching her face in delight. Her index finger taps the 'phone' button, and she slides the device under her ear.

"Hello?" she asks being sure that this is the person she thinks called.

"Santana?" a sweet, soft voice answers from the other line.

"Is this really the Quinn Fabray?"

"The one and only, baby," she chuckles.

The corners of the Latina's lips pull up to a half smile as she takes in the reality. "I just can't believe you're actually calling me."

"I told you I wouldn't be gone forever, and you know I keep my promises, Lopez," Quinn replies.

Santana looks down in to her lap smiling to herself because she misses her best friend. "We have a lot to catch up on, little lady! But I actually have to go because class starts in like a minute. Teacher, remember?" she reminds Quinn.

"Oh, right! You weren't kidding when you said you'd take over Mr. Schue's job. Well, okay. Talk to you later….bitch," the petite blonde snickers. Santana can't help but laugh at her because she knows Quinn swears, but every time she does it is so awkward it's funny. Bitch was a term of endearment for them, anyway.

"Okay, bye…..bitch," I laugh along.

"Excuse me, Ms. Lopez?" a jock walks into the room with a few others. "Was that profanity we just heard?"

Santana turns off her phone standing up from her chair. "Shush Jack, you didn't hear anything from me," she winks. It wasn't seductive or anything; just a friendly playful one.

"Whatever, Ms. Lopez!" he throws a ball at another guy across the room.

With cat-like reflexes, Santana somehow manages to catch the ball in the air. "What did I say about throwing in my classroom boys?" she asked with a smirk on her face. The two looked at her mouth agape not answering. "I'll just keep this until class ends, you hear me? And you'll have to ask for it back in Spanish." The brunette tucks the ball under her arm and struts to the back of her desk, heels clinking. She opens a drawer and drops the offender in, locking it up after.

By then, the class really started to fill up and the bell rang a minute later. To the sound of it, Santana walks down the middle aisle to get class started.

"Buenos Dias, clase," she greets.

The class replies in unison, "Buenos Dias, Ms. Lopez" with one smart ass replying, "What's up, homie". Santana looks around the room to see who said it, comes to a sheepish guy in the corner of the room.

"You can't say that unless it's in Spanish, Arnold," she reminds him as she walks his way. His face started to turn the color of his hair; red.

"Um, l-l-lo siento. Que pasa….amiga?" he asks hesitantly sliding down his seat.

Santana reaches his desk and stands behind him to lean down next to his ear. "Work on your accent next time or you may just be spending detention with me afterschool for that smart ass comment," she whispers. The brunette hears Arnold audibly gulp and thinks she intimidated him well enough.

"Anyway, class," she begins again travelling back up to the front of the room. "Today, we'll be learning about when to use the imperfect tense of the verb, or preterit tense. You can't exactly straight up explain the difference in a sentence or two, and it'll take some practicing. For example, if I were to say, 'When I was young, I played with my dolls-'"

"Excuse me, Ms. Lopez?" Santana is rather abruptly interrupted.

She glances at where the voice came from giving full attention. Figgins (yeah, surprisingly he still works here) is standing at my classroom door with his hand on a girl's shoulder.

The girl wore skinny jeans that displayed her long legs and wore a frolic blouse to accompany it. She held her binders close to her chest and she looked down causing her hair to shield her face.

"Um, yes, Principal Figgins?"

"This is Brittany Pierce. She is transferring into your class. Please adjust things for her as needed," he says as if there is some kind of insider Santana is supposed to know about.

But, Santana simply nods in understanding.

"Well, have a good day here at McKinley High, Brittany," Figgins wishes and leaves.

"Want to come in and introduce yourself Brittany?" Santana invites. The girl glances up and looks around the classroom before coming to stand next to the Latina.

"Well, I'm Brittany S. Pierce and –"

"You're who?" a girl in the front exclaims.

Brittany looks at the girl confidently before explaining, "My name is Brittany Susan Pierce, and I usually abbreviate the middle name so my name ends up sounding like Britney Spears. But it is really Brittany-S-Pierce," she enunciates.

Santana raises an eyebrow at the girl to what else she will say.

"I moved here from California because my dad's job relocated and I'm now attending this high school." She glances towards the brunette as a way to see if she got approval as to whether or not she's finish introducing herself or not. Santana smiles and claps her hands, which brings the rest of the class to, also.

"Sorry, Brittany, but the only empty desk we have in this room is up next to me. Is that fine with you?" Santana asks.

"It really doesn't matter," and Santana sees her smile for the first time. The Latina lets her hand signal that Brittany can go to the seat that is behind them at the front of the classroom.

"Anyway, class. As I was saying…"

Santana continued on with her lecture on different tenses all without remembering or realizing that Brittany was sitting at the desk directly behind her. Later, Santana gives out worksheets so that they can practice the tenses and returns to sitting at her desk, next to the blonde.

"So, Brittany," she says getting comfortable in her seat. The student looks up to her as she begins to talk. "Do you understand the difference between the two tenses?"

"I think so," the blonde cocks her head to the side thinking.

"Oh, was I too fast for you? Want me to explain it again, slower?"

"No, I'm not doing all of that again!" Brittany yells out of nowhere. Heads all over the classroom snap up to see what all the commotion is about.

Santana's eyes go wide as the reaction was not expected. "Doing all of what again?"

The blonde gives one last look before digging in one of her binders for something. Some rummaging later, she pulls out a folded sheet of paper and slaps it down in front of the teacher. Santana glances back and forth between the paper and Brittany before picking it up and unfolding it.

Dear faculty/staff of Brittany,

In her last school, our child Brittany found some basic subjects difficult. We are working towards finding what actually is causing this happening. Please understand this as you give her grades and judge her work until further notice.

Susan and Brian Pierce

"See? They think I'm stupid. But I don't want that reputation now that I'm in this new school," the blonde vents . This must have been what Figgins was talking about earlier.

Santana scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she replies, "What? No way a girl as pretty as you could be labelled 'stupid'. You're so much more than that and I know it."

The loud bell for the next period rang as soon as Santana had finished her sentence. Students filed out as they did filed in earlier, leaving a vacant room only to the blonde and brunette.

Brittany begins to put her things in her bag as she begins to realize that the bell rang.

"Ms. Lopez?" she asks quietly.

Santana hums in acknowledgement.

"Could you help me to my next class? This map they gave me is confusing."

The Latina can't help but giggle at the adorableness in her voice.


During her lunch break, Santana called Quinn and the two arranged a meet up afterschool.

As Santana walked into Breadsticks, she instantly heard Quinn yell her name with no shame. A few heads turned, but Santana couldn't care less because of the reunion. The petite, blonde meets Santana halfway engulfing her in a hug.

"It has been so long!" Quinn beams as she pulls away.

"I know! Let's get our table before we play catch up," Santana suggests .

The two find a table, still excited to see each other.

"So," Santana starts. "Where have you been, Fabray? Didn't answer any of my calls all these years!" the brunette say spitting her gum in to a napkin.

Quinn scrunches her face in disgust. "I can't believe you still do that nasty habit, Santana! Don't take your gum out at a dinner table!"

Santana shrugs and returns to waiting to the answer to her question.

"Well, if you must know…"

"And I must."

Quinn raises her eyebrows wondering if Santana will interrupt again. After a moment, she proceeds. "Since graduation, I kind of lost touch with everybody. I went to Yale as you know, but dropped out because it just wasn't the life for me. I want to….travel the world. Go to new places instead of staying in this lame old town called Lima, Ohio. So, after my fourth year in college, I travelled to Africa."

"You did what?"

"Went to Africa for a few years. I really tried to stop myself from using unnecessary technology, which is why I didn't get your calls and you didn't get mine. It was a really nice and interesting experience. After, I went to France and stayed there up until now, when I moved back to Lima," Quinn ends sipping the water in front of her.

"Why'd you come back? Weren't you living the dream?"

"I came back because of my children."

Santana wasn't much of one to hide her emotions and right now her face currently read shock. "What children? With who?"

"Puck. We didn't-"

"Puck? As in the Puck who is a coach at McKinley, who I see every day, and has never mentioned any kids besides Beth who you gave away? That Puck?" if the Latina wasn't confused, she's confused now.

The petite blonde looks down at her lap as she fidgets her thumbs. "We didn't want to exactly announce it. But yes, we have three children. Baylee, Benson, and Beth Puckerman."

"Oh, hell to the no, you two are married, too? What kind of shit is this, Quinn?" Santana begins to raise her voice.

"People are beginning to stare, Santana," Quinn mumbles shielding her face from the public.

"Do you think I care? I thought we were fucking best friends, Fabray. Oh, I mean Puckerman, I was supposed to be your maid of honour for goodness' sake!" Santana slaps her forehead in frustration. "I bet you two don't even love each other and it's pure fucking," she spits.

"Oh, and you would know, Santana," Quinn scoffs. She quickly covers her mouth afterwards as if she didn't mean to say it out loud.

The brunette lifts an eyebrow, cocking her head. "And what the fuck is that supposed mean?"

"It means that I've gotten in touch with everybody from Glee club. They're all settled down! Mercedes married with a boy, Changs are together with a girl, Finn and Rachel had twins, Kurt and Blain are married….we've all settled down and began to really start our lives, and you Santana? Nothing. Who is that special somebody you love? No one. You're probably how you were in high school. Fucking, no loving. And it's honestly pathetic," she fires.

Santana stares at the blonde for a moment before picking up her bag and heading to the exit.


Her ride home was cold and silent as she realizes all her best friend said was true.

As Santana pulled onto her street, she notices a big U-Haul in front of her house and squints her eyes to see who the new neighbours are.

She almost crashes into her own mailbox as she realizes that Brittany S. Pierce is her new neighbour.


For those reading my other stories The Mistress AND Leather Jackets and Overalls, I will be returning to those stories very soon. Work and school has overcame me!