AN: So, here we go with another one shot. I used to have a really hard time thinking of one shot ideas, I kept getting story ideas, but this is my second I've posted but about the fifth idea I've gotten recently. So, I hope you like it. Just a little idea that struck me. It was a lot of fun to write. Though, I debated on cutting the last bit for a long time. I don't think it works, but, we'll see I guess.
I really do play the game that Brittany teaches Santana about people watching. You should try it. It's great to writing inspiration.
Anyway, enjoy!
The Bar
Santana took another sip of her Bay Breeze. It wasn't her favorite drink but it had been a free; a hopeful male had brought it to her table against the wall and made pleasant conversation. He was nice, but Santana didn't like nice boys. She never had. For some reason they felt like too much work, even though she knew she was the high maintenance one.
But Santana knew she was worth it.
She was hot.
Smokin'.
Any guy in the bar would be lucky to have her. That was the problem, though, wasn't it. See, Santana had slept with a lot of guys. Way more than she actually wanted people knowing. At first she had done it because she thought that's what you were supposed to do. Then she did it some more out of habit. Then she continued because she got angry for some reason she couldn't explain.
So she started sleeping with bad boys that she could toss aside when she was done. Boys who were dark and mysterious and thought they were gods of one night stands until Santana Lopez came along. Until she fiercely bedded them, digging her nails into their back, biting maybe just too hard and then kicking them out the next morning. Making them feel like every other woman they had slept with.
It had become a game. It was sick, she knew it was sick because sex had become just something to do. But she had become insatiable. Not that she was constantly in need of sex, she was in need of something, though. So she tried to fill that need with sex. But every guy she slept with only made her feel more empty, more angry.
But Santana knew why sex was mind blowing for the guys she deemed worthy enough to fuck and mediocre at best for her.
Santana Lopez was a lesbian.
Okay, so she had never exactly been with a woman and she had been with a lot of men but she just knew. Deep down somewhere, she understood what she was and she was afraid of that. She was afraid of the fact that her eyes lingered on women passing by when she should be concentrating on the guy sitting across from her. She was afraid of the way when she really couldn't get off, especially when she was with a guy, if she closed her eyes and thought really hard about another woman about how soft their hands must feel, how soft they could feel on her body...well, let's just say she just knew.
But she hadn't planned on being gay. It had happened. It had surprised her, even. It made her question a lot of things about herself that she thought she knew. It was an odd feeling. As if she had just been acting for so long and now someone had jerked away the script and she was forced to think up her own lines, her own character, who she really was.
And that person was gay.
Still, she had been wondering, maybe it's a phase? She was only 23. Still very young in comparison to how long she was going to live. She had never had sex with a woman, never kissed a woman.
The idea though, it made Santana shiver. It made her squirm in her seat, her legs crossed on their own and she suddenly became very aware of her breathing. It felt almost as if it was forbidden. As if it was something she couldn't have because she wasn't gay.
But that only made her want it more. Crave it.
Like an itch that couldn't be scratched.
So here she was, sitting at this bar. The plan had kind of been a joke to herself. She would go to a few bars and try to pick up a girl instead of a guy. Take her home, get it out of her system, go find a boyfriend who could buy her things the next day.
She had scrunched up her nose at the thought of a boyfriend. Yes, she had had plenty of sex but very few boyfriends. One on and off again fling in high school was all she had to call a relationship. The idea had never struck her. It had never been appealing. Sex, yes, because it felt good and Santana was good at it. She had a tendency to eat boys up, though.
Santana Lopez was a killer. She was a bombshell. She was a bitch and had a smirk that could freeze you in place and make you wish you would just disappear. Santana was confident.
But not anymore.
Not when it came to like...the gay issue.
Santana was confused and a little terrified. But she knew there was only one way to resolve the turmoil she was feeling. She would actually have to go along with her plan.
She had never been afraid or intimidated, like ever. It wasn't in her nature. But the first night she had come to the bar looking for a girl she couldn't bring herself to do anything. All she did was turn down guys and drink free drinks. It was a disaster of a plan. She was playing the wall flower and Santana Lopez wasn't a wall flower.
So she stormed out.
And came back the next night.
If she was honest with herself: she had no idea what the fuck she was doing.
She wanted a girl to pick her up. She wanted a girl to show her what to do, but that was so hard to admit. Admitting that she didn't know. She was so afraid that maybe she was gay. If she was, that meant so much. She felt like she would have to redefine herself. She would have to relearn how to date. She would have to figure so much out. She didn't know anything about lesbianism. Sure, she had gay guys to spare, but girls?
It was kind of a joke to her.
Like all gay girls were supposed to wear flannel and golf. Or like the Home Depot.
Did they even have a Home Depot around here?
Santana felt inadequate. She wasn't stereotypical. She was uneducated. She was too damn stubborn to figure out anything and it was hard. Really hard. She couldn't even tell her friends, especially not them. What if she was just going through a phase? They would mock her relentlessly.
Deep down she knew that it wasn't a phase, though. That they wouldn't mind. But that scared her too. Because then...then it would be real and Santana would be in the dark. She would be 23 and just figuring her shit out and that made her feel...
Weak.
So she would just have to find a woman and fake knowing what she was doing.
The reason that finding a woman hadn't happened yet was because she had been stupid and picked the straightest bar ever. She knew there were gay bars and clubs in the city. She had been to a few with her friend Kurt but she just wasn't ready for that scene.
Still, after five days, she'd been hit on by twelve guys and zero women.
She took a bigger drink.
A whooping laugh caught her attention. She looked to a far corner table and rolled her eyes. A group of people, the same group from almost every night. There were one or two core members and then other people would trickle in and out and tonight Santana even saw people she had never seen before. It was as if they were a never ending string of friends who just got together at this stupid straight bar and had a blast just to piss Santana off. Just because they knew what she was trying to do and their whooping and laughter and fun was just ugh.
That was the only word she had for it. Ugh.
At the heart of the group was a boy and a girl.
Santana hadn't really paid much attention to them before, especially the girl. They had to be dating, they had to. Santana wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to ogle a girl she couldn't get. Get her hopes up for nothing deal.
But she was Santana fucking Lopez. She should be able to get any girl.
She got any guy.
She took two big gulps and her drink was gone. She definitely needed another.
Puck threw back his head and gulped the shot down, closing his eyes tight as he did so and trying not to let the burn of the alcohol show on his face. He slammed the shot glass down on the table and the group hollered and applauded and were genuinely obnoxious.
But this was their bar. It had been forever. He had started coming here and bringing his friends and now everyone came and went when they could. Most everyone was on a first name basis with most of the staff. Puck had even set the manager up with a girl once.
They could be as loud as they wanted, as long as they weren't rowdy.
Which they never were.
Okay, except maybe that one time. But that didn't count. Puck had been really drunk and that guy had been a really big dick.
But whatever. He paid for the table he broke. It was old news.
"Okay, another, another!"
Puck swiveled his head to look at the blonde bombshell beside him. "You trying to get me drunk so you can seduce me?"
Brittany punched his arm playfully. "You know it, dude. Now do another!"
Finn pushed two shots across the table. One in front of Puck, one in front of Brittany. Puck smiled, lifted the glass in a salute to Brittany and threw his head back again. When he slammed his glass on the table, Brittany was inhaling sharply, but fist pumping the air like she always did when the real drinking began.
Puck shook his head and looked around the table. It was a good turn out. Finn showed up with his girlfriend Rachel, Mike had come as well, with Tina in tow. Brittany was always there with him, she had become a party animal. He knew Quinn was on the way and there had even been talk of Sam coming with Mercedes. It would be almost everyone. A good group.
His best friends.
He was going to get wasted with his best friends at his favorite bar in the prime of his life.
Puck wasn't a sentimental guy. He just wasn't. But he felt good. These were memories he could look back on and think, 'Yeah, I had the best times at DeSha's.'
He scanned the room and his eyes landed on a table against the wall.
No, more specifically his eyes landed on the hottie that was occupying that table and looking pretty lonely. He smirked to himself. She looked a little out of her element, even though she dressed like an old pro to the bar scene.
Brittany nudged him in the side. "Earth to Puckasaurus."
"Wha...?" He said, turning his head but keeping his eyes roving over the girl in the corner.
"What're we lookin' at?" Brittany leaned over close to him, leaning against him. "Oh, a girl. Of course." But not just any girl. Brittany had seen that girl here a million times. Had seen the way she acted or didn't act, but sat at her table against the wall and... seemed to just wait.
"She's hot," Puck said, voice far away. He was still looking at the girl. Hot was an understatement. She was...damn. She was hot.
"Yeah," Brittany said quietly beside Puck, nodding her head.
"I think I'm gonna go for it," Puck said turning to look at Brittany, face serious.
Finn let out a bark of a laugh and the rest of the table applauded. Puck wasn't sure what had happened. He looked around the table then up at the girl, she shot a glare to their table and then looked back at her drink. Her almost empty drink.
He quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm totally gonna go for it. Whaddya think she's drinking?"
"Looks like a...," Brittany trailed off, squinting her eyes to try and get a better look.
"Don't stare at her!" Puck said grabbing the hand Brittany had lifted to put over her eyes, as if that would help narrow her vision to find out exactly what the drink was.
She laughed and turned her head to look at him, shrugging. "Bay breeze."
"How can you just...tell?" Puck asked, squinting at the drink himself. It looked like a high ball glass...with ice.
"I saw a guy bring it to her earlier," Brittany said, playing with a coaster on the table. "And I'm a professional bartender."
"Right," Puck said looking at the girl again and tapping Brittany's nose.
She wrinkled her nose and swatted at his hand.
"Wait," Puck said, turning to look at Brittany. "A guy bought it for her? Is he like...in the john?"
Brittany rolled her eyes. "She turned him down."
"Oh," Puck's mouth made an 'o'. He recovered quickly. "Wasn't nearly as hot as me, right?"
Brittany shrugged. "Eh, not my type. Couldn't say."
"I'm gonna go for it."
"Oka-ay," Brittany said drawing out the word and sitting facing forward in her chair. She picked up the coaster and began to roll it across the table like a wheel.
"What?" Puck said, voice dropping and becoming serious. "You don't think I can get that?" He glanced at the girl and pulled at the lapels of his jacket, straightening it. "She's hot, but I'm hot too."
"And sooo modest," Brittany added rolling her eyes and smiling a half smile at him.
He pushed her playfully. "I got this."
"If you say so," Brittany said shrugging. She let her eyes wander to the woman.
Santana stared at her empty drink. She sighed a deep sigh that was expelling more than air. Tonight, as usual was a bust. She pushed her glass away from her and was about to stand up when the seat across from her was miraculously occupied.
She looked up, hoping, praying that it was a girl.
She couldn't help her face falling slightly when she realized it wasn't a girl.
Like at all.
But the guy sitting in front of her was smooth. He was handsome, attractive and had the whole bad boy vibe that Santana loved to take advantage of. But she couldn't bring herself to do the angry one night stands anymore. It just didn't feel right. It felt like lying and it made her feel bad. Bad in a way she had never felt before.
He set another Bay Breeze in front of her. "Saw your drink was low."
She couldn't help but smile and take the drink in her hand, just so she had something to hold onto. "Thanks," she said, looking at the drink.
"I'm Puck," Puck said, sitting back in the chair. She watched him closely, saw the ways his eyes moved shamelessly up and down her body. She didn't really mind though, she was used to it and she knew it was going nowhere so...
"Santana," Santana replied nodding her head at him.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Santana," he said, voice crisp and thick with charm.
She couldn't help but grunt a laugh at him. "You're smooth," she said.
He smiled, a half smile that showed a little tooth. "That's the goal."
"The only goal?" She smirked.
"Oh no, I have another goal in mind."
Santana couldn't help the small laugh that escape from her throat. He was too much. But she felt bad. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing because she didn't want it to happen. Because she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Here was this really good looking guy who wanted to take her home and have lots of mindless sex with her and she felt nothing and wanted nothing to do with it.
She sighed. "Look, I'm just gonna put this train wreck to a stop before it becomes catastrophic," she began, taking her hands off of her drink and putting them in her lap. She looked down for a second then back up at Puck. "I'm flattered that you think I'm hot and wanna have sex with me, but I'm just not feeling it tonight. I appreciate the drink though, and the mild entertainment you provided with your bad boy jacket and your mohawk."
She watched as his mouth fell open slightly, eyes scrunching just a little big as if he was confused. She had tried to tone down the bitch level, but it was hard to tell what was actually offensive and what wasn't anymore. She was just so used to throwing words around. Hell, bitch was an endearment she used on Kurt all the fucking time.
She thought how easy it would be to just tell him it wasn't him, but she was just gay. She was a lesbian and therefore wasn't interested. Not that she wanted to spare his feeling, she really didn't care, he was just a boy who hit on her and they were a dime a dozen. The idea was thrilling. Telling this stranger. It would be the first time to say it out loud. It was right on the tip of her tongue...
"Well," Puck said, standing and stretching slightly. "Can't blame a dude for trying." He half smiled at her again and she once again felt charmed. "Anyway, enjoy that drink." He winked at her and sauntered back towards...the corner table. He sat down by the blonde in the middle of the group and she said something to him and then laughed.
So maybe they weren't dating.
She took a drink of the Bay Breeze.
Just stop looking.
She sighed, grabbed her coat off of the back of the chair and left.
Maybe another night.
Somehow, Santana couldn't really explain it, she had developed a liking for Bay Breezes. Maybe her brain just associated them with being free or at the bar or whatever. She ordered one and took it back to her table, the same table and sat and watched people going in and out. She watched people laughing and sitting with friends or worse significant others.
Ugh.
Again, that was the only word for it.
She had taken a four day break from the bar. From any bar. Choosing to spend her nights reading, exercising, studying, doing whatever to occupy her thoughts. Keep them away from...women. She let her eyes wander. They landed on the hot red head in the corner. The gorgeous brunette at the bar.
The hot blonde at the corner table with her friends and...Puck.
She only remembered his name because it rhymed with fuck.
They were talking, sipping their drinks, being relatively calm, but there were only four of them tonight.
Santana took a sip of her own drink and wondered what the hell she was doing here.
"Please," Mercedes said, jokingly pushing at Sam's arm. She rolled her eyes and looked to Brittany, smile huge.
Brittany watched as Sam smiled back at her, lovingly. Genuine.
It kinda bothered Brittany. Not in the way that she was like, jealous or anything. She wasn't. Samcedes, her mash up name for them, was something that needed to happen. Everyone in their circle knew this. Mercedes was this bold beautiful person who wanted to be loved, who had a hard time seeing the beauty in herself at times. Brittany had seen this quality in her friend for years.
And Sam. Sam was the most genuine, caring guy she had ever met. Finn was good too, but Sam was different. Finn worried about status even when he didn't want to and Sam went to the midnight premier of Harry Potter movies. Not that that was a bad thing, Brittany had gone with him.
Strictly pluto... pluton? They went as friends.
Anyway, Sam really was this great guy and Mercedes was this great girl and so when they started dating it made the group better. It made them smile more, those dopey smiles that Brittany loved to see people give each other. The type of smile that hadn't graced her lips in a long time.
She frowned slightly and sat back in her chair.
Ever since she started hanging out with Puck a lot more, the way she did things had changed. She had stopped dating. She had become one of those one night standers that she couldn't stand, like Puck. The weirdest part was...it hadn't been that hard to do.
She would take a girl home one night, having amazing sex and leave the next day or kick them out.
Only a few seemed to mind.
Still, she felt bad at how easy it was. She knew she should feel worse. But she just didn't. She couldn't. She didn't do it nearly as often as Puck but it happened and each time it was great during, a very short after and then Brittany felt oddly...alone.
Which, wasn't really that odd. Considering she was alone.
But not lonely. Those were different, right? Like alone, she wasn't now. She was surrounded by friends. But she could still be lonely surrounded by her friend, right? Like if she wished she had someone to share a dopey grin with.
So maybe she was a little lonely, but that's okay. Everyone felt lonely every once in a while, right?
She took a sip from her drink and scanned the room.
Her eyes landed on the same girl Puck had gone after a few nights ago. She watched as the woman stared down at her drink. She looked lost, a little unsure and of course, hot, just as she had the night before and before that and before that...
"What're we looking at?" Puck asked in the same tone Brittany had used on him the other night, leaning over in his chair to get a look.
"Nothing," Brittany said, feeling a slight flush in her face. Which was stupid. She was an adult. Puck knew about her...being into women.
"Oh, a girl," Puck said turning to look at Brittany, a knowing grin slapped across his smug face. He did a quick double take. "That's my girl..."
"If I remember correctly, that isn't your girl, like at all," Mercedes said glancing behind her to look at Santana. Brittany had told the story of Pucks rejection...multiple times. Sam turned around to look at the girl causing a commotion among his friends.
"Okay, can everyone stop looking at her," Brittany said, her face becoming redder still.
"Okay, okay," Mercedes said. "I'll get another round, what do we want?"
"Nope, I got this, you stay," Sam said, standing and stretching his legs. He smiled that dopey grin down to Mercedes who returned it.
She mouthed something to him that Brittany couldn't see but it made him smile wider.
She frowned again.
"I'mma go for it," she said taking another drink from her cup.
"What? After the way she turned me down?" Puck looked at her like she was crazy, his face scrunched up.
"I'm pretty sure she turned you down because she plays for my team," Brittany said slowly.
"Yeah right. Wishful thinking, sweetheart," Puck sneered, leaning back in his chair.
"Well, she's turned down one guy tonight, all guys every other night and she's been checking out that hot red head in the corner there all night," Brittany said shrugging looking into her glass, wishing she could disappear into it.
She wasn't usually shy but something about this girl really made her feel ill at ease. Not in a bad way...it was odd. Something she had never experienced. The girl was hot. But she was beautiful. You could tell from the way she held herself she was confident. And yet...
And yet the way she looked now was a little lost. Like she had no idea what she was doing here but she couldn't not be at the bar. Like she needed to prove something.
Like she needed Brittany to over to her.
Brittany was drawn to her. That's what it was. Her body was reacting to the girl before her mind did. That horrible pre-chase flutter in her stomach began. Her muscles below her belt seemed to be clenching and she felt what usually happened when she got in the mind set to approach a girl.
A Pavlovian response at it's best.
Her body wanted this.
No, wanted her. The girl in the corner who screamed danger but looked so right to Brittany. So perfect.
She took another sip of her glass. But how to approach her was something different entirely. This girl had walls. Mile high walls that Brittany could feel but people like Puck didn't really notice. She had turned down every guy but had wandering eyes for the women around the bar.
Brittany held both her hands on her drink and sat, silent, thoughtful.
"Just wing it," Puck said, clapping her on the back.
The action seemed to jump start Brittany's body into motion. She stood up and made her way cautiously across the bar. She felt a lot more nervous than usual. This girl was hot, but hey, so was Brittany.
"Just do it," she mumbled to herself. She held her head high and walked to the table, casually sitting the chair across from the woman.
"Hi," Brittany said, smiling at her, wide, maybe a little too much, but she didn't care. She had learned a long time ago that being genuine was one of the qualities that people appreciated in her.
"Hi," the girl said, voice a little quiet. She smiled back.
Okay, good start.
"I'm Brittany," Brittany said tilting her head slightly in greeting.
"Santana," Santana replied.
Brittany watched as Santana's eyes darted around the bar, searched Brittany's face and then went back to her drink. Her body shifted, she uncrossed and recrossed her legs. It wasn't fidgety, it was...interesting and Brittany couldn't explain why it was also a little endearing. She couldn't quite figure this girl out and that's what Brittany did best.
Besides make some mean drinks.
"So, Santana," Brittany began, sitting back in her chair. "How're you?"
Santana's eyes narrowed slightly, but then quickly blinked back to normal size. "I'm, uh, fine." She shrugged. "You?"
"Oh, I'm good." Brittany looked down at her empty hands and wished she had brought her drink with her, just so she had something to do. "You know, I've seen you here a lot lately."
Santana cleared her throat. "Yeah?"
"Oh yeah," Brittany began sitting up in her chair and leaning forward, putting her elbows on the table in a not very lady like fashion. "I'm always in the loud corner over there." She motioned her hand in the direction of the table in the corner.
"Right, yeah, I've seen you too," Santana said, nodding.
Brittany could tell she was uncomfortable, but it wasn't in a way because she didn't want to be hit on by women. Brittany had seen her careless leering for days now. She looked almost uncomfortable with herself. For a woman that beautiful to be that unsure...
"Well," Brittany said, rolling her eyes, it's hard to miss us some nights. "We're kinda loud people." She half-smiled at Santana and felt her heart flutter when it was returned. It was coy and sweet and Brittany wanted to see how many more smiles she could get from her before the night was out.
"I noticed that too," Santana said jokingly, taking a sip from her drink.
"So, I've got, kinda a personal question," Brittany said, casting her eyes away from Santana, trying to look like something interesting had caught her eye.
"Oh?" Santana's voice sounded pinched.
"Yeah, you see, I see you here a lot." Brittany paused and let her eyes fall on the red head in the corner, hoping Santana noticed where her eyes were. "But you're alone and you turn guys down left and right and you're always watching...people." She turned her eyes to look back at Santana and was surprised at what she found there.
Santana's face had fallen, her eyes were a bit wider, her lips shut tight and her jaw line was slightly clenched. She tilted her head slightly and gave Brittany a questioning look.
"So, I think I know why you're here," Brittany said, watching Santana's face, waiting for something.
"Oh?" Santana repeated.
"Yeah, you're a spy, aren't you?" Brittany smiled and Santana relaxed immediately, she laughed too. But there was something else hiding behind the relief... like disappointment.
"Why do you say that?"
"Well," Brittany began. "I just always assume people who come to bars alone for nights, turn down people, do a lot of watching... You've got to be a spy. But kinda a really bad one because I figured you out."
Santana smiled, it was a real smile, not a smile you use on people who are bugging you with wild theories. Brittany couldn't help but smile in return.
"It's a good thing I'm not a spy or you really would have blown my cover," Santana said, playing along.
Brittany's heart did a little flip, making her start. She was playing along. She hadn't realized how desperate she had wanted her to play along until now. Santana had enchanted Brittany without meaning to because Brittany, she was usually the one doing the seducing.
"Well, maybe you're a writer," Brittany said, tilting her head in the other direction.
Santana smiled again, amused. "A writer?"
"Oh yeah," Brittany said nodding and adjusting her position in her chair. "Writers come to places like bars and coffee shops all of the time because they like the background noise and they can look at people and get ideas."
"So, are you a writer?" Santana asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Oh, definitely not," Brittany said, sitting back in her chair. "I'm a bartender-slash-secretary. Pretty tame."
Santana's face scrunched in the most adorable way. "How can you be a bartender-slash-secretary?"
"Oh, it's easy. Like Bruce Wayne and Batman," Brittany said, voice and face serious.
When Santana rolled her eyes at the joke and chuckled Brittany felt like she was in. They were clicking, flowing, it was working. Her weird little charms that people thought were an act and always marveled when they realized it was just Brittany, were working.
"Well, sorry to bust theory number two, but I'm not a writer," Santana said, shrugging her shoulders and taking another drink.
"Damn." Brittany replied leaning back in her chair again. She let her eyes wander over Santana's face, the way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, her bare shoulders, the straps of her dress hugging sweetly to her arms, and her waist and the curves everywhere...
"You're waiting for someone then," Brittany said, bringing her eyes back up to Santana.
"Oh?" Santana repeated again.
"Yeah, he'll be here soon. Or maybe you're meeting a girl...a friend," Brittany said, dropping another hint. Santana didn't react nearly as much at her last comment, though.
"Maybe I am waiting for someone," She said, holding eye contact.
There was the dangerous side Brittany had sensed. The confidence and the power from having confidence all those years. From being this gorgeous. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but it's been a while...days even you've come to this bar alone. I don't think they're coming."
Santana laughed through a exhale of breath. "You're funny, you know that?"
"I've been told as much," Brittany said shrugging and grinning. "But we'll say you're waiting for someone."
"Okay," Santana said slowly, dragging the word out as if she was confused.
"I'll show you what I do while I wait for my friends," Brittany said. She slid out of her chair and moved it around the table, setting it by Santana and gracefully sitting in it again.
"What?" Santana asked. Her eyes were narrowed again, watching Brittany's movements, watching how close she was.
"I look at the people who come. From this side we have the perfect view of the door," Brittany said turning to look at Santana.
Maybe she had put their seats a little too close. Maybe she made it so she could easily lean over and whisper into her ear if the occasion called for it.
"And you just...look?"
"I make up stories about them, try to figure out who they are, why they're here," Brittany said simply. She could smell Santana. All of her. It was amazing. Perfume mixed with the scene of her drink and maybe a little bit of sweat from the hot bar and it was intoxicating and Brittany wanted nothing more than to bury her face into Santana's neck, just so she could smell more of her.
"Thought you said you weren't a writer," Santana said, eyes looking at every part of Brittany's face. And to Brittany's surprise, darting back to her lips more than once.
Her lips spread surreptitiously into a grin. An almost...dopey grin.
Shit.
Focus.
"I'm what you call a people person, Santana," Brittany said, letting her body lean in just a little closer. "I like to understand people, watch people. It's why I became a bartender."
"Slash secretary," Santana said, voice quiet. She had moved closer too, they were only a few inches apart that Brittany knew she could close in the blink of an eye but...
"So," Brittany said, turning to look at the entrance. She kept her body close to Santana's and pretended not to notice the way she seemed to shake herself and pull away slightly. "Just pick someone coming in and tell me about them."
Santana looked towards the entrance. "No one is coming in." Her voice sounded restrained, guarded. More walls.
Brittany frowned. "Just give it a sec." She turned to look at Santana, who was staring at the door. Her profile was just as interesting to look at...
"Okay, there's a guy," Santana said, sitting up straighter in her chair, excited to play along.
Brittany grinned softly. "What's he wearing?"
"Dark jeans, I can't see his shirt because he's wearing a jacket, like a really nice leather jacket," Santana said. Brittany kept her eyes glued on Santana's face, her profile, the way her lips moved when she talked.
"What else?"
"Like his shoes?" Santana asked, turning to look at Brittany. She stopped talking and let her eyes scan Brittany's face, looking again. She looked back to the guy who had walked in, Brittany was sure if Santana's skin wasn't the perfect shade of caramel she could see a blush on her cheeks.
"Anything you think I should know," Brittany said softly, leaning closer still.
"His shoes are nice, but I don't think they really go with his outfit," Santana said, frowning slightly.
"Why is he here?"
"I don't know," Santana said, shrugging.
"It's part of the game, guess," Brittany said. Their shoulders brushed together slightly when Brittany scooted her chair closer to Santana's. Brittany watched Santana's body freeze, her hands clench at her drink, her head remained diligently straight, watching the guy.
"He's here to meet someone."
"Who?" Brittany spoke quietly. She let her arm wrap around the back of Santana's chair, resting on the top of it. Were Santana to lean back, Brittany could have wrapped her arm around her, pulled her close. Santana sat straight, leaning forward slightly, trying to engross herself in the game.
"Friends, but old friends, that's why he's looking at everyone here." Santana's voice was quieter now, too.
"Where did he meet these old friends?"
"College. Fraternity. His brothers in a fraternity," Santana supplied.
"Why are they meeting?" Brittany whispered, she was so close now, whispering into Santana's ear.
Santana shivered.
Brittany felt her entire body clench and shifted herself just a little bit closer. God, she smelled so good. So, so good.
"Um," Santana spoke in almost a whisper now. "One of his brothers is getting married."
"Is he happy about that?"
"Well," Santana said, taking in a shaking breath. "Yeah, I think so. Maybe he's a little surprised because he hadn't expected his friend to get married so soon."
"Will he be the best man?"
"Probably not, but he's probably the best guy in the group," Santana said.
Brittany smiled. Santana's mind was building a character now, a person. "Will he be upset about that?"
She shook her head, but just barely. Her hair ruffled slightly and Brittany had to resist the urge to inhale it's scent.
"Why not?"
"Because he's happy and they're old friends. He wasn't expecting to be the best man, maybe a groomsmen. It's been a while," Santana quietly.
"You're very good at this, maybe you should be a writer," Brittany said pulling away from Santana only slightly.
"You just ask really good questions," Santana said, voice in between a whisper and talking. She turned to face Brittany and their noses almost touched.
Brittany shrugged and kept her eyes on Santana's. They were so dark, so warm, a little scared. "Years of practice."
Santana turned to look at the door. A girl had just walked in. "Your turn," she said.
Brittany turned to look at the girl that just walked in. "Well, you've seen her, so I don't have to describe her. Short blonde hair, the clothes, shoes, that I think look great," Brittany said shooting Santana a small half-smile.
The girl had stopped just inside the door and was texting furiously.
"Who is she texting?" Santana asked quietly, Brittany could tell she was watching profile, as Brittany had been doing.
"Her boyfriend, he's kind of a needy bastard," Brittany said, looking sideways at Santana.
"Okay, well, why is she here?"
"I asked you that."
"I have to ask different questions?"
"Oh yeah, makes it harder," Brittany said turning to face Santana for a moment.
"Fine," Santana said. She was silent, thoughtful. "Why is she with him if he's so demanding?"
Brittany looked down, then back up at the blonde. "Sometimes, when she gets into relationships, she forgets why you're in them. Forgets its to be with someone you like, instead of just having them to fight away the lonely."
"Oh," Santana said quietly from Brittany's side. "What's her name?"
"Quinn," Brittany said, smiling.
"Pretty name," Santana said, looking at the girl, she sent her text and began walking across the bar.
"Pretty girl," Brittany said. She watched as Quinn moved through the maze the tables and chairs made up and stopped at her corner table. She gave Mercedes a hug.
"Hey," Santana said, jerking her head to look back at Brittany.
Brittany smiled wide and laughed. "I'm sorry, that's my friend Quinn," she said.
For a moment Brittany was afraid she had ruined everything. Santana's eyes flashed angry for a second, angry and scared and then they stopped. She just stopped.
Brittany bit her lip and felt the boldness rushing through her. She put her hand on Santana's thigh just above her knee, gently. Santana jumped and looked down at the contact. Brittany kept her hand there. "I'm having fun."
Santana looked back up at Brittany. The anger was gone, the fear washed away. The walls retracted. She looked genuine, real. "Me too," she nodded and let her eyes dart down to Brittany's hand before up to the bar door.
"Wanna keep playing?" Brittany asked, scooting closer.
Santana swallowed. "Yeah."
So they played. Brittany fed Santana questions and Santana answered each one differently, with three different people. She build characters and lives and traits and Brittany was surprised. Most people didn't like her game, most girls found it boring and the ones that did play were bad. Unable to come up with reasoning or explanations as to why someone was doing something. Santana was different. She seemed to become completely absorbed. Seemed to really think, really dig deep and try to understand. The more they played, the more relaxed Santana became, and the farther Brittany let her hand drag up her leg.
Santana was so different. Brittany could almost feel the layers and layers of her personality, her character. Brittany was a people person. She understood people. She had done poorly in school, which was why going to school to be a bartender had sounded amazing. She loved alcohol, she loved people. But she had learned a lot about people over the years by watching them, playing games like this. She was good at reading people. Santana was a bit of a challenge. Had taken some time.
"Santana," Brittany whispered in her ear.
"Yeah?" Santana kept her eyes on the girl that she had decided was only here to meet up with an ex-boyfriend for a quick chat.
Brittany let her hand sneak under the hem of Santana's dress. Santana didn't jump though, she looked down quickly, then her eyes darted back up at Brittany's. "I wanna play the game now."
"No one walked in." Her voice was quiet.
Brittany was amazed at how warm and smooth Santana's skin felt. "I found someone in the bar."
"Boy or girl?" Santana asked.
"Woman. Beautiful woman."
Santana's eyes were wide. She nodded but just slightly. She swallowed hard. "What is she wearing?"
Brittany's mouth turned up slightly at the corners, she let her hand move gently over Santana's skin, kept her eyes on Santana's. "A beautifully form fitting little black dress. Perfect for this bar, not most though. Not too much, just right."
"Yeah?" Santana asked, voice tight again, almost a whisper.
"Yeah."
"Why is she here?" She was whispering now.
"It took me a while to figure out. She's here a lot, you see, and she turns down men. She does however, let her eyes linger far too long on the women in the bar."
Santana looked away, Brittany felt the walls rising up, felt her body tense as if it was about to move.
"But that's okay," she said quickly.
Santana stopped. Brittany felt the muscles in Santana's legs tighten, she felt like a spring ready to be released under her hand. "I think maybe she's confused. Maybe even a little afraid."
Santana's breathing was shallow.
"I wanted to hit on you the first time you walked in here," Brittany said, dropping the game. "But these guys kept coming up to you. Then Puck finally noticed you. Plus, I wasn't sure. I thought maybe you were a spy or a writer or waiting for someone..." She stopped, her hand stopped.
"Brittany," Santana said, voice hoarse. She cleared her throat.
"I don't know...what I'm doing here."
It was earnest and open and raw. Brittany saw that. She saw the fear of possibly being laugh at, rejected, thought less of. She had felt like she had grown to know Santana, she felt familiar, easy to get along with. They had really clicked.
"Then let's get out of here."
Brittany couldn't help but smile when Santana nodded.
"Oh, god, Britt..." Santana gasped out. Her body arched, legs tense and everything was lost to her, except her hand clutching the pillow underneath her head and her other hand buried in Brittany's blonde hair. She felt like a released coil and her body fell relaxed on the bed. She was breathing deeply and could feel the layer of sweat that was making her body glisten oddly in the light from the streetlamp that was filtering through the window.
Santana leaned her head back and closed her eyes tight. She gasped lightly when she felt Brittany remove her hands and kiss her way gently up to her face.
"How'd you guess my nickname?" She asked playfully kissing Santana's neck.
"I couldn't," Santana stopped to breath. "Finish your name."
Brittany smiled as she kissed just under Santana's ear. "I'm that good, huh?"
"That was," Santana stopped. "Fuck."
Brittany chuckled and straddled Santana, looking down at her. Santana had thrown an arm over her face. "What are you thinking about?"
"I'm a lesbian," Santana said quietly.
"Oh my gosh, me too!" Brittany said in mock excitement.
"No, I mean," Santana said removing her arm and pushing herself into a sitting position. Brittany straddling her lap. "I'm a lesbian." Santana's eyes were wide.
Brittany nodded and gently draped her arms around Santana's neck. She kissed her, full on the lips, kissed her as softly as she could. "That's okay."
"Yeah?" Santana asked, voice still quiet as Brittany moved to kiss down the other side of her neck.
"Yep," she replied, pulling back to look at Santana. "It's really fun, I promise."
Santana laughed. Really laughed. Her body shook and Brittany couldn't help but laugh a bit of her own. "But for now," Brittany said, kissing her lips again, a little harder.
Santana shifted positions, wrapping an arm around Brittany's back and pushing her back onto the mattress. She kissed her neck and moved her way down. "But for now," Santana said, lifting her lips away from Brittany's smooth skin.
Her warm breath made goosebumps erupt on Brittany's skin as she made her way down.
"For now you should teach me another game," Santana said, looking up and making eye contact with Brittany before leaning down a reciprocating. Experimenting. Learning and hopefully, pleasuring Brittany the way she had done to Santana, moments before.