Brittany Pierce is a kickass dancer in Glee Club, a Cheerio that has helped bring her team to Nationals (and victory) several times, and a loyal friend well liked among everyone. But it's a commonly accepted fact that intelligent is not an appropriate word to describe her. Even her best friend Santana Lopez would attest to that, though she'd never admit it for fear of hurting the pure-intentioned girl's feelings. So that's why one fateful day, Santana's perception of the girl as she'd known her for years is shaken.
After Cheerios practice, she lets herself into Brittany's house and climbs the stairs, walking through Brittany's open door, where she sees Brittany sitting at her desk typing something, wearing glasses.
She smirks. "Since when do you have glasses?"
Brittany, engrossed in whatever she's typing, doesn't acknowledge the statement. Santana certainly doesn't like being ignored, so she crosses her arms discontently and tries again.
"Brit, since when do you have glasses?" She repeats herself, louder this time. Brittany turns to face her, erupting into a wide toothy grin.
"Santana!" She throws her arms around Santana and pounces, so that Santana is forced to wrap her hands around her muscular thighs to hold her up, though she really doesn't mind.
"Hey B," she responds quietly given their proximity. Brittany jumps down but maintains the embrace. She looks into Santana's eyes and gives her a sweet smile, which Santana returns. It amazes Santana how soft this girl makes her. She leans in for a kiss, pulling the blonde girl flush against her and wrapping her arms further around her. She smiles into the kiss as she registers the feeling of Brittany's metal glasses against her face.
When they pull apart, they are both slightly dazed, and Brittany is beaming.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting with Quinn to work on our routine for Nationals."
Santana cocks her head, confused. "We did, B. It's six o'clock."
Brittany looks shocked. "I guess I just got carried away."
"What are you even writing? Our English paper?" Santana steps closer to Brittany and gazes over her shoulder, trying to make out what is on the computer screen.
Brittany laughs. "No, Brendon's doing that for me." As Brendon is Brittany's 7-year-old boyfriend, this slightly concerns Santana, but curiosity gets the better of her.
"Then what is it?"
Brittany makes a 'duh' face. "My new book. What else would it be?"
At first, Santana thinks that she's kidding, but her face is deadpan.
Santana's jaw drops. "A book? Wait, there are old books?" She asks, dumbfounded.
Brittany shrugs, giving Santana a puzzled look. "I thought you knew that S...I told you that I had a publisher."
Santana rummages through her brain for any memory concerning Brittany and a publisher but comes up short. She shakes her head.
"We were at Breadstix?" Brittany offers.
Santana thinks back to all of their Breadstix visits, which are quite numerous. Then she remembers.
"San, my publisher called me. She thinks my book is going to make it big."
But Santana is holding a long, buttery, salty breadstick that she is looking at with an admiration similar to that of a parent holding their first-born child, and she is completely zoned out.
"That's great, Brit," she disconcertedly responds. Then she proceeds to raise the breadstick to her mouth and takes a large bite, reveling in the taste of that warm, slightly garlicky, delightfully moist-
"Yeah, I remember," she says, eyes closed in pleasure from the memory. She feels her stomach grumble. "I wants to go to Breadstix later."
"Okay," Brittany happily replies. She knows that Santana loves Breadstix almost as much as she loves her.
"I'm almost done with this chapter. We can go then." She sits back down and adjusts her glasses, getting back into her story. Santana stands behind the chair and for lack of anything to do, watches her best friend. She feels the urge for physical contact though, so she runs her fingers through Brittany's soft hair affectionately. She switches her position to rub Brittany's shoulders, massaging gently, not hard enough to be a distraction but enough to makes the blonde girl lean gratefully into her touch.
Santana's gaze shifts to the computer screen and she glimpses some of the words that the girl is typing, "...the duckling is no bigger than my hand, Lana thinks as she holds him up, but he has such large responsibility..."
Santana crinkles her eyebrows in thought, as the name and text seem familiar. She thinks about where she might recognize it from...Then realization dawns and she gasps.
"Brittany, did you write 'The Wonderful Duck'?" she questions disbelievingly.
"Yeah, that's what it's called." Brittany sighs as Santana stops her ministrations.
Santana is so shocked that she can't move, her mouth hanging open. "The book that was on the bestseller list for several weeks? That was praised by critics as an allegory for war?"
Brittany turns her head as far as she can to look, befuddled, at Santana's face. "What's an allegory?" Santana shakes her head in amazement for lack of anything better to do. Brittany shrugs when Santana doesn't answer her question, and turns back to continue working.
"All done!" Brittany exclaims exuberantly, leaping off of her chair and saving her work, logging off.
Santana is still open mouthed, but then Brittany pulls her in for another kiss, which deepens as Santana tangles her fingers through her hair. Brittany pulls away and giggles, leaving Santana breathless. She pushes Santana back hard so that she falls backward onto the bed. Brittany quickly straddles her, leaning forward seductively then grinding her hips down on Santana, satisfied with the load groan that emerges from Santana's throat. Suddenly, she flips herself off of Santana, who whimpers, reaching for her.
"I thought you wanted to go to Breadstix?" Brittany asks slyly, raising an eyebrow.
Santana chuckles lightly. "Breadstix is good." She crawls on top of Brittany. "But I know something that tastes even better." Brittany grins ear to ear as she realizes what Santana is implying, and she closes the distance between them for a searing kiss.
Santana knows her best friend is an unintentional literary genius, but if the sounds that Brittany is currently making are any indication, she is a genius at one or two things herself.