Hey everyone! I've been here on the site for a while now. I'm a MAD fan of Glee and Facts of Life fan fics and thought I'd try my hand at a Brittanna fic. Haven't written fan fiction in a while, so I may be a little rusty. Also, please excuse any inconsistencies between this story and the actual Glee series. You'll see that I have remained quite close to the source material, but did change a few things.
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Glee, only one or two non-Glee characters that might pop up in the story.
I hope you guys enjoy. I'd love feedback and thoughts on the story. Definitely more to come if you all like this one.
In hindsight, maybe she should've never lied. Maybe she shouldn't have spent so much time away, days filled with extra "projects" in the studio, nights of countless calls gone straight to voicemail.
Weeks of creeping into their bedroom, sometimes out, just before the break of day, coming up with shameful excuses for dozens of broken dates and why she was always too tired to make love whenever she was home at night.
Maybe she was too neglectful, though she hadn't intended to be.
Maybe she'd been too careless, though she couldn't have done better at hiding the truth. After all, she'd gone a whole month without getting caught.
Maybe she had fate to blame. It's what brought her face to face with Santana in the heat of the worst possible moment, as the latina had caught her having dinner with another woman, not even a full hour after she'd broken off yet another date night with her.
Over and over the scene plays in her mind, laughing and smiling at playful jokes, as always, enjoying the company of the vibrant and very attractive young red-haired woman.
Then, as if urged by some unheard command, gazing toward the doorway of that damn crowded restaurant to meet the shocked and infuriated face of her wife, whose eyes immediately welled over...trembling mouth seemingly unable to open to speak, twitching hands unstable as she just as suddenly turned and stormed out, not once looking back even as Brittany quickly arose and called out to her.
Only for an instance did she register the presence of Quinn, once next to the Latina, now furiously shaking her head at the other blonde and retreating after Santana. She'd made it out onto the sidewalk of the entrance just in time to see Santana's black Chrysler 300 speed down the sleek, wet street. The loud screeches made from a sudden left turn was like a heavy hearted soundtrack to the moment, matching the heavy rain that fell, quickly drenching her from head to feet and effectively making her feel like crap.
Now, standing before Santana, broken at the sight of this usually strong woman, now visibly fragile from the pain of her betrayal, eyes red and swollen from tears bawled, voice hoarse and strangled as the latina half yelled, half moaned curses at the blonde, as she turned toward the sudden peripheral view of a smashed vase behind her, and turning forward again just in time to see the enraged woman raise a sizeable glass figurine above her head, ready to aim and hurl at her, all Brittany could think at this moment was 'Where the hell is Lord Tubbington to save me when I need him?'
Lost in thought, after dodging the path of her favorite glass feline figurine being tossed at her, her mind found itself stuck on an endless repeat of the night's ill-fated events.
Why did Santana have to walk in at that exact moment? Of all the places she could've been on this night, at that hour, why did it have to be Breadstix? Why was she even there herself?
She hadn't planned on breaking her date with Santana and she definitely hadn't planned on going out with Christina...not tonight. Tonight was supposed to be the last, the end of it all.
They'd met up at their usual spot at the same time as every other 2 nights a week. That'd become the routine for the blonde. She'd finish up with students at her dance studio at approximately 4pm, tidy up in the conviently placed shower rooms she'd built in when she and Mike Chang had opened the studio 6 months earlier. She'd then brief Mike on the agenda foe the following day and entrust him to lock up before heading out to meet with Christina promptly at 5.
Yes, she'd been greatly looking forward to putting an end to the months of sneaking around, keeping secrets and lying to her friends and especially to Santana. And yet, when Christina had suggested they go out to enjoy one of the dancers were begging for extra time to get down a routine for an upcoming May 1st 'May Day' show the studio was putting on in 2 days' time.
In honesty, she had some of the best dance students in the midwest this year. They'd perfected the entire routine weeks ago and were simply polishing their act.
Brittany and Mike had quickly become the #1 dance instructors in the region since opening 3 months after Brittany's wedding to Santana.
Mike had approached the blonde about starting a dance company to serve the communities of their hometown in Lima, Ohio not long after finishing up at the famous Joffrey Ballet School of Dance in Chicago, IL. It was a way to help Lima's youth and adults as wells to discover different interests and expression in the form of dance... in the same manner that they'd discovered themselves in the form of song and performance in glee club during their high school days in New Directions at William McKinley High School.
In a way, it was their way of passing along the valuable lessons their former instructor, Mr. Schuester, had taught them.
A year later, LoChang Dance Studio (derived from both their last names, Chang and Lopez-Pierce) was thriving. Mike and Brittany taught lessons and oversaw the business along with Santana.
New Directions had since been taken over by friend and former classmate Sam Evans as Mr. Schuester had become principal of the school. Mike sometimes assists Sam with glee club lessons as well.
Brittany and Santana had been thriving quite well in Lima, getting the studio off the ground. However, they planned on moving to New York in the fall as they both wanted to continue their respective educations and would be attending NYU together.
They hadn't minded residing in Lima for the time being. The studio brought in a good income for them both and they'd been living in the Pierce family home. They shared it to themselves because Brittany's parents had decided to take a year and a half to travel the world after winning a $30million mega lottery not long after the young women had married. Her parents had been gracious enough to give them use of the house, loan Brittany and Mike the startup money for the dance studio and put up funds for a house for the women upon their impending move.
As one of the area's most lucrative dance centers, it was no surprise to Santana that the blonde would get held up from time to time with the amount of students they taught on a daily basis. With at least two new eager minions wandering in each day, they were pretty much always busy educating about dance and setting up quarterly community performances while Santana would mainly do her part of helping manage their budget and recruit new talent.
It was fairly easy, convincing Santana that she was simply swamped by the amount of preparation going into this upcoming show. In reality, Mike had been covering for her.
She was surprised by his willingness and lack of intrusive questions, but she wasn't going to question it. Everything had worked smoothly.
However, after watching Santana grow more and more restless and confused each day, she was glad she could finally get things with Christina over with.
But since she had always enjoyed spending time with the woman, she simply figured one more night wouldn't hurt.
That is until standing here now, seeing so much hurt and pain on the face of the woman she loves more than life itself… the woman who seemed determined to make her feel that same pain tenfold in the physical aspect.
Only coming into reality with each crash of a vase or figurine that landed at her feet, she was simply zoned out on the latina's ongoing rants. She found she couldn't speak, couldn't even seem to move, much less barely defend herself from Santana's onslaught.
After what had felt like hours of just watching the rain sleeked streets, she had been suddenly jolted by an angry and stern voice
"What the hell were you thinking, Brittany?!"
She turned tepidly, knowing what was coming next, to face Quinn, who emerged from the restaurant's entrance, a large rainbow colored umbrella shielding her from the forces.
As the other blonde got closer, Brittany steeled herself for the words she was sure would come.
"I love you and Santana both as two of my best friends, but as your friend, I have to tell you you've really screwed this one up! I mean, how could you? It's one thing to constantly tell her you're busy night after night…"
Somewhere in the rantings about Christina, Brittany had tuned the girl out. It wasn't that she didn't deserve to be absolutely chewed up and spit out at this moment. She just wanted, no needed to get home and explain herself to Santana.
The two had been so engrossed in their own personal thoughts, they hadn't noticed the red haired woman in question walk out of the restaurant, only taking in her presence upon hearing a tentative "Ummm, excuse me?"
Both blondes looked up to find the woman slowly inching toward them, unsure of the scene before her.
"I-I should go. I paid the bill for both our dinners, so…. Brittany," she started with a small sigh. "I am very sorry ab-"
"No, don't. Just…" Brittany interjected, hand up in protest of the apology that was to come. She wasn't about to let this woman feel bad about something that was clearly all her own fault. 'Christina's done nothing wrong', she thought to herself. 'This is all on me.'
With that, unsure of what else to say, the woman briskly walked away down the sidewalk and out of view.
"Come on", Quinn suddenly demanded, firmly grasping the taller blonde's arm, dragging her off to Brittany's car in the opposite direction.
Brittany supposed she should protest as she should get home and try explaining herself to Santana, but figured she might as well go along with Quinn as they both knew the latina would need a while to calm down.
Also, as much as she truly was in no mood for yet another onslaught of yells she already expected to receive from her wife anyway, she couldn't just leave Quinn stranded there as Santana had left her when she'd taken off angry.
An hour of talking with Quinn and dropping her off at her mother's home (her childhood home) where she was spending the night before a flight back to New York where she lives now, and she was then parked in the driveway of her own home, contemplating what she would say to Santana.
It'd taken all of 10mins to work up the courage to get out of her car and up to the front door, managing to get only a little wet despite the rain storm having picked up considerably.
Walking into the brown brick two-story home, all of the lights appeared to be off, save for the kitchen light.
"I can't believe you!"
She looked up to see Santana emerge from the kitchen, anger still plastered on her weary face.
Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed from obvious crying, her long dark brown hair hung over her shoulders messily and Brittany could tell she'd had a few drinks…more than a few glasses of wine maybe.
She was clad in a red silk robe. The site usually drove Brittany absolutely crazy with lust, but in this moment, she couldn't help but feel heartbroken at the sight of her wife, knowing all too well that she herself had caused this pain.
"Santana, please…" she started to take slow steps toward her, but was stopped
"No! Don't you dare come near me! I can't believe…all the nights you claimed you were working late at the studio, the cancelled plans… I didn't wanna believe it. I refused to believe that YOU of all people would do me wrong, that you would cheat on me!"
"Santana, I-"
HOW COULD YOU BRITTANY?! HOW COULD YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS?!"
The outburst was enough to stun the blonde to silence. She'd seen and heard the latina's anger toward others plenty of times before but never so much pain in her voice and especially not directed toward her.
And all that had led to the current moment of being screamed at and having glass figurines clumsily yet viciously thrown at her.
Even so…that wasn't what scared her most in that moment. It was the fact that the entire time the Latina had been ranting and yelling, she never once spoke a word of Spanish.
Santana Diabla Lopez, who was known for her Spanish-fueled verbal threats to "go all Lima Heights" on people's "sorry asses" hadn't uttered on word outside of the English language
Brittany, by far, definitely was not the smartest person in the world. In fact quite the opposite outside of mathematics where she exceeded exponentially. She'd been called stupid her entire life on matters of "logic" and "common sense".
Yet, one thing she'd always had full understanding of and that was Santana.
She understood that Santana wanted her to fully comprehend every single word that she spoke. She wanted Brittany to know just how much she'd hurt her.
So lost in her own angst over what she'd done, she was barely able to duck the gold picture frame that flew right toward her head.
Santana was really trying to physically hurt her. She couldn't believe this was happening. This was it. She'd had enough of this surge of violence from the latina.
Just as Santana had unbelievably picked up yet another frame to hurl at her, the blonde somehow managed to rush at her, grabbing her tightly from behind and holding her close, gripping the shorter woman's arms to will her to let go of the frame.
"San, please, just calm down and talk to me," she begged, her voice coming out a bit straggled as the small latina struggled against her hold.
"No! Let me go! Let me go, Brittany!" Santana yelled, trying unsuccessfully to get away from the blonde as her hold just tightened.
"Santanaaa! Just-"
"No! Let me go and go back to your pale Raggedy Ann mistress!"
"SANTANA, JUST FUCKING STOP IT, OK?!"
She almost hadn't recognized her own voice. Brittany rarely yelled, let alone almost never swore so it was especially shocking for the both of them to hear her explode this way. She couldn't help it though. The ranting and accusations caused something to snap in her and she refused to go unheard.
Apparently, her surprising outburst worked. At once, Santana halted her movements, stiffening momentarily then going nearly limp in the blonde's arms as a fit of sobs overcame her body once again.
Brittany pulled her even closer, bringing her lips to the woman's ear, speaking vehemently "I'm not having an affair. I have NOT and NEVER will cheat on you, Santana." Tears began to well in her own eyes as she became overwhelmed by the moment as they both grew too weak to stand and collapsed to the floor, Brittany still not letting go of her, yet loosening her grip with the sudden fall.
How could they have gotten to this point? How could she have messed up this badly? She knew she had to fix this right there and then.
In a careful motion, she lifted herself and Santana off the floor, cradling the latina in her arms and carrying her into their bedroom.
Gently, she laid her down on the seat of their bed, allowing herself to drop to her knees, too weak to remain standing.
Santana was everything to her… her wife, her best friend, her entire life and she'd nearly lost that because of a stupid mistake, because she was so careless and clueless, ironically while attempting to be so careful.
The impact of emotions was wracking her body so that she began to tremble. She knew she had to do something.
Leaning up ever so slightly, she reached a shaking hand out to the woman's cheek and was stunned by her quickly pulling away.
Though the act did hurt her feelings a bit, she tried again, this time being allowed to turn the woman's face to meet her gaze.
With all determination in her eyes and voice, she spoke.
"I love you, Santana. I would never cheat on you."
"Except with that red haired bimbo," the latina spewed pointedly.
"Santana, stop it!" The blonde demanded expasperatedly. "Look at me."
She gazed into her eyes, beseechingly, attempting a silent plea for her to listen and believe her.
"Then what were you doing with her?"
Time to let the truth be known.
Slowly standing to her feet, she reached into her jacket pocket.
"When I said I was busy, working late sweetie, I wasn't lying to you, only about what I was working on."
On bended knee, she removed a rather bulky rectangular black velvet box from her pocket and held it in front of her.
This piqued the latina's interest and she immediately sat up, giving the blonde her full attention.
"I wanted to wait until tomorrow, but I guess now is the right time to give you this." She suddenly grew nervous, only now wondering whether the latina would like her gift.
"I was thinking of what to get you for our anniversary tomorrow, more like wracking my mind over it", which says a lot for the blonde, as she hated thinking too hard.
"I wanted it to be special…as special and one of a kind as you are to me. Christina isn't my mistress, some fling or even of any romantic interest to me, San. She's a jewelry designer and instructor. I've been spending the past month in her workshop making this."
Placing the box in her line of vision, Brittany watched expectantly as Santana slowly examined the jewelry box. The top was embroidered with tiny diamonds which spelled out "Santana" in a lovely script.
"Brittany, this is beautiful!"
"Turn it over."
On the bottom side of the jewelry box, made of white gold was the inscription,
"Always in my heart, your love is always in the songs I'll sing. Forever yours. I'll love you beyond infinity."
-Brittany
Underneath that were two perfectly carved song birds facing level to one another, wings spread, song lyrics appearing to flow from their beaks.
The latina then gently opened the box, being immediately welcomed by the sound of her wife's singing, the source, she soon discovered, a tiny audio device installed in the box, just behind a black satin lining.
Recognizing the sweet melody as Fleetwood Mac's songbird, she softly made eye contact with the blonde, realizing the significance in the box's design and this song being one which she herself had sang to the blonde once in high school, sincerely confessing a sweet, unconditional love for her.
For what must have been the umpteenth time that night, tears welled in both their eyes, albeit, happy nostalgic tears this time.
"This song, Santana, besides being the most beautiful one I heard you sing in glee club, is a testament to my feelings for you just like it was for me back then."
She took her free hand in hers, still upon bended knee.
"Do you remember what I said to you that day at the high school at our reunion and I'd kissed you? I've been to different places and have met many different people, done very interesting things and after this time, I know that the best thing that ever happened to me was meeting you and later becoming your wife, San. When I'm with you, my body and mind feel so alive and everything's right."
The latina listened and let out a deep breath she seemed to have been holding in for a while. Then, as if only now noticing it, she gasped at the sight of the platinum diamond necklace lain perfectly inside the box.
She gingerly picked up the necklace and held it in her palm. Shimmering so brightly in the bedroom light, it was a wonder if the woman had seen anything so gorgeous. Or at least that's how she appeared to the blonde.
"Brittany, this is all so beautiful!" she exclaimed softly, throwing her arms around her in gratitude. "How did you do all this?"
"Months of learning the wonderful arts of metal works, stitching, and jewelry design in Christina's workshop." Brittany explained, thrilled that Santana loved the gift.
"I did most of the work myself; Christina put some of the final touches on the box itself. It was super hard getting everything done and hiding it from you. Quinn and Rachel almost gave it away. Then, halfway into it, I had to hold off like a whole week because Lord Tubbington had gotten into some things I'd hidden in the secret compartment in this litter box to make the necklace with."
Santana did a double take at this." Wait a minute. You mean that day Lord Tubbington pooped out diamonds and you said it was because he'd dug up the neighbor's tennis bracelet she had buried in the backyard because she was convinced that the ghost of Marilyn Monroe was out to steal it from her?"
Their next door neighbor, the widow Mrs. Johnson was very…eccentric, for lack of a better word. Actually, a better word for her condition would back bat shit crazy and delusional.
"And you mean to tell me Quinn and Rachel were both in on this?"
"Quinn, Rachel, Mike, Kurt and Mercedes…and my parents. Quinn's actually the one who'd recommended Christina."
Quinn was well aware of Brittany's professional relationship with Christina. She herself had first gotten to know the jewelry maker months before while searching for a birthday gift for Rachel.
Brittany had consulted with Quinn in addition to Christina during the process, though Quinn had been placed in a tough position having to lie to Santana and stand off to the side while her best friend was led to believe that Brittany had been cheating on her. This is what led her to finally have a talk with the other blonde at the restaurant earlier about finally telling the latina what was going on, even though it was a day early.
"And why did you have a secret compartment built into Lord Tubbington's litter box?"
"It wasn't me," the blonde replied innocently and truthfully. "You know Lord Tubbington can be a sneaky little fellow when he wants to be."
This received a hearty laugh from the latina. Brittany simply had a childlike innocence for the most uncommon instances and it, at the moment, did nothing short of lightening the brunette's heart even more so than the necklace and jewelry box Brittany made. While the creation was wonderfully elegant, the blonde's being was a gift of itself.
"I love you, Brittany… so, so much." The woman breathed, gathering the blonde into a comforting embrace.
This brought a smile to the blonde's face.
Pulling back after a moment, the blonde took the opportunity to place her lips upon Santana's, suddenly in desperate need of the connection. She wasn't denied as the latina eagerly returned the kiss.
The latina then moved back, to replace the necklace in the box, laying it upon the nightstand beside the their bed.
"I am so sorry I didn't believe you, Brittany," she spoke sincerely, placing her palms upon the sides of the woman's face.
"No, Santana, it's entirely my fault. I was so careless. I neglected you and made you believe something was going on. You had every right to be mad at me, but I hope you're not mad anymore. If you are still mad, I promise that I'm gonna do everything I can to make up for this and make you happy again."
She could read the obvious pain in her eyes as she responded, "Even though was really hurt and confused by the way you'd been acting, the thought of you cheating should've have never crossed my mind. You've been my best friend like forever and the most considerate and honest person I've ever known. I just should have known better than to think…" she hesitated.
Diverting her eyes out of shame, "I thought you'd found someone better and would leave me," she admitted in the most fragile voice.
This almost made the blonde's heart break all over again. Gently bringing her forefingers to lift Santana's chin to look at her, she spoke softly, yet reassuringly,
"Nothing…nothing is going to take me away from you Santana. After everything we've been through, I want you to know that. I'm here forever. There's nowhere in this world I would rather be. That's part of the reason why I chose to make this gift. I wanted to give you something from my heart…something from my hands to show you and remind you just how I feel about you."
She reached over, removing the necklace from the box and unhooked it. Slightly moving the latina's hair, she placed the glimmering necklace around her wife's neck and allowed her hand to linger at her chest.
"I don't ever want to see you like this again, Santana. It breaks my heart to know that I made you feel that I didn't love you anymore. That I could ever consider being with someone else. I have everything I need right here, in you. I couldn't ask for anything else," she declared, kissing the last remnants of tears from the latina's cheeks.
"If ever again you feel any doubts, I want you to wear this and remember…before I even have the chance to say it again…that I love you, Santana Diabla Lopez. I'm in love with you and nothing will ever change that or take your place. Please believe me."
Santana simply responded by closing in for another kiss. This one, quickly becoming heated as the blonde gently laid her down upon the bed. That night, they made love again and again, trying as they could to wash away the hurt they'd felt earlier in the night as well as to renew the passion and contentment of their marriage…of their love and their life together.
It was hours later that they were lying in bed, naked and holding each other impossibly, yet comfortably close, whispering assurances in one another's ear.
"That…was…amazing!" The blonde gushed while gazing up at the ceiling, reeling from the lovemaking session which was inarguably the best they'd had in a while.
"Yes, you most definitely were beyond amazing, Brit Brit!" Santana gleamed, head propped upon her shoulder, wide smile on her face as she gazed down at the love of her life.
"We should never, ever go without sex again."
"No we shouldn't. I don't think I could take it!" the latina laughed, but with a serious undertone. "I'm sorry I almost hurt you, Brittany. I wasn't thinking. I was so angry and drinking, but I know that's no excuse. I couldn't live with myself if…if-"
"Shhh, baby it's okay. I'm fine. We're past that. We just have a lot of cleaning up to do in the morning," she half joked.
She kissed the blonde's lips and laid her head on her chest.
"Happy anniversary, Brittany", she spoke contently.
The blonde looked over at their nightstand clock to see that it was indeed 12:01 a.m….officially their 1st wedding anniversary.
"Happy anniversary, Santana", she replied while softly placing a kiss to her forehead, holding her in her arms.
Her eyes lingered on the necklace she'd made. She hoped it would become a lasting symbol of her love for the latina.
About an hour later, she found that the latina was fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady.
She was happy that the woman was calm enough to rest throughout the remainder of the night in peace. She, however, found it hard to sleep herself.
As on nearly every night since the incident, her hand found its way to her own chest, fingering the scar left there from nearly two years ago.
Gazing down at her wife's sleeping form, she couldn't stop the thoughts that ran through her mind.
'Did she really want to hurt me earlier? What if I hadn't ducked when she'd thrown those things at me? Will we ever get past this? Will I ever be able to help her get past her fears?'
…TO BE CONTINUED…