Title: Another life, another time.
Author: Mina Robins
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Summary: Fluffy and has logic only Brittany would understand. Starts with a dream sequence so stay for the ride down a shallow rabbit hole.
A minute later. 'N Santy y did 7 have 2 eat 9' Santana wasn't sure if she could handle going another round of 'explain the anecdote' to Brittany.
…
You shadow her down the richly decorated hall of the ritzy hotel. The walls are lined with portraits of famous men and women who have lived and dined in this location centauries ago. She smiles at you as she leads you up the marble stairs encased by the golden autumn banisters. Her hand reaches for you, automatically you hold out your pinkie. She raises her perfectly plucked brow but you can see mirth dancing in her eyes. She grasps onto your hand and entwines her fingers around yours.
She had been a rather lucky find. You're away on a trip and had decided to casually meet up with the three of them. The first was fun, the second was jealous.
However, this one.
She had been by the pool when you had opt to take a snooze, she cradled you in her arms and you listened to her steady heartbeat. She had enticed you into a swim before offering her room to share for the night.
The pair of you has reached her door. The numbers don't make sense. "7/8/9" are hung on the front of the thick maple wood doors in large elegant gold dusted numerals. You giggle and wonder if she's heard of the joke with the numbers. You've never really understood the pun. You still don't know why seven decided to eat nine.
She walks in first then beckons for you to follow. Her smile so sweet and tempting you follow immediately. She perches herself on top of an antique countertop. Swings her legs idly as you look about her room.
It was smaller than your own, slimmer. To the right and left are glass wall separating this place from the neighboring rooms. Tapestries hang on the walls upper corners. The velvet flows down, shading the left room while the right room's glass walls are open to the view. At the end of the room a queen size canopy bed sits in sight. The sheets are satin and beautifully golden. The pillows and comforters are dark purple almost black. The patterns are hand woven in. Before the bed is a lounge chair. Eighteenth century motif with claw legs and a crimson velvet bench. The room holds little decorations, other than an old record player and a line of Victoria era jewelry that dawns the shelf above the fireplace.
You are dripping water from the pool and causing her plush Arabian carpet some unfixable damage.
She smiles at you welcomingly. And you find yourself in her arms. She smells of Shea butter and sunshine. Her soft chocolate coloured hair cascades over you as she pulls you in. Your bodies are so close her warmth flushes your skin.
"What time is it?" You ask, unsure.
"It's actually 7:40 right now." Her voice holds regret.
You've gone 10 minutes over your allotted time. You wonder if she notices the need in your eyes, as you hungrily look her over. Her bronze body is so soft and warm it pains you to leave.
"Some other time then." You want to play it cool, not wanting to let her know you lust for her madly. You untangle yourself from her embrace but draw close to give her a peck on the nose.
She furrows her brow and grasp onto your hand. "You can't go yet, I'm throbbing, and you are going to fix that."
"But your next client, won't they mind." You look up at her. "I can't have just 10 or 15 minutes, I… I want to take you slow."
"I left my whole evening free," her lips curve up. "For you."
"I don't have that much money…" You nervously chew your tongue; worried you've ruined the mood and the night.
She wraps her arms around you again; leans close and whispers huskily into your ear, "I don't want your money…"
'I want your body' hangs precariously in the air but is left unspoken.
You don't wait for any more encouragement; you grip onto her slim waist and drop her onto the lounge chair. You make short work of her surprisingly dry clothes and kiss your way up from her knees; you suck on her inner thigh making sure to leave a mark and skip her core, making her groan. Your hands wrap around her breast, your thumbs grazing her taunt nipples.
"Get out of your clothes, now!" You nod and obediently follow her command.
You unceremoniously throw off your drenched t-shirt and press your now naked body against hers. A grin appears on your face as she bucks against you. For a moment you wonder where your swimsuit has disappeared to. You could have sworn you had worn a bikini underneath your T-shirt.
Her hands are tangled in your hair. She pulls you close. Your lips crush into hers and she wraps her legs around your hip. She kisses your bottom lip then bites.
You feel the pierce and draw back, confused if you've done something wrong.
That mischievous smile is on her face again. "So you won't forget me in the morning."
"I don't think that was ever possible."
She mumbles 'sweet talker' as you begin sucking on her breast.
You hear a sound from the right window and notice the curtains have been brushed up on both sides and a child from your church is looking at the two of you.
You pull yourself off your soon to be lover's body and move to sit at the edge of the lounge.
The little girl smiles at you and pushes through the glass and enters into the rented room. Then the child's grandparents come through the wall as well. They are fussing and holding the girl's duck stuffy and yellow rain jacket. They seem completely obvious to the pair of you.
You are too astonished to speak and the throbbing between your legs is driving you mad. You glance at the owner of a room and see she's just as confused. Her eyes are round with surprise; however, she has made no move to grab the blanket that is draped on the lounge's arm to hide her nudity.
The door swings open and your father walks in holding fishing gear and suddenly you remember the little girl.
She's you.
And in all the authority a 6 year old can muster she glares at you and orders, "Stop drinking Robitussin before you go to bed."
…
=Reality=
Your eyes snap open and the 8 o'clock winter breeze is licking and frosting up your windows. It's stuffy and hot because of your mother's need to overheat your house. Your hand shoots up to feel where your lip has been pierced but there is no cut.
You suck on your bottom lip longingly, wishing a cut was there. You look to your left and right but the escort isn't here. She isn't here in your room. But the pain, you felt it!
"Oh that's just not fair. That's just not flipping fair!" You throw the covers over your head and hope to fall back into what you now realize is a dream.
But the last of night has left hours ago and nothing will let you return to her arms.
You roll onto your front and bang your head repeatedly into your pillow. Santana, Santana, your best friend and occasional lover. It torments you to see her with anyone other than you. At first you had Mike as your fake gay beard but the boyfriends Santana goes through aren't fake. So you try to match her boy for boy. She wasn't pleased and had told you to stop. But she's not the boss of you and your cat agrees. Santana had said she'll get you for it.
But this, this time she has gone too far!
This is just mean of her. She can't possibly be allowed to taunt you in your dreams and just leave when you want her most.
"Why does she always play unfair!"
….
That morning one Santana Lopez got some damn weird texts from Brittany. Weird even on her girl's standards.
'U r not allowed 2 come in2 my dreams as an realli hawt escort from now on unless u are willin to put out!1!'
Santana decided it was safe to leave that one unanswered.
A couple seconds later.
'O, n I'll stop datin any1 but u from now on, if u do the same, is dat o.k?'
Santana replied 'Y-E-S' in record time.
'Btw, we r goin ice fishin wit my dad 2day.'
The brunette frowned and texted back 'Y, u no i don't like fishin.'
'Yeah, but i don't want my dad to walk in on us if u ever decid to b my escort.'
The youngest Lopez sighed and got up to change, whatever made Brittany happy she guessed.
Whatever made the girl happy. Santana grinned. Whatever made her girl happy.
…
A/N: I honest to god had the hardest time writing the short hand text because I hate it when I see 'u' instead of "you" in a text message, I mean how much more time can it take to add the 'y' and the 'u'. Everyone these days has qwerty. But in glee I know the girls' text in short hand. So here you go. Ugh on the short hand but I hope you like the cuteness of Brittana.