Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"

A/N: Okay, so this is so hugely different than anything else I've ever written which was sort of the appeal of writing it, I think. So the story is something of a crossover (but not really) with the video game series Assassin's Creed. Aside from some of the back story which not much of it is here, but it will come into play in later installments.

For those of you unfamiliar with it the short version is that the Knights Templar weren't disbanded in the 15th century, that's just when they cut ties with The Church and went freelance. By the 21st century they are a corporation called Abstergo Industries that has developed a method of accessing memories of our genetic ancestors which are stored in our DNA. What their endgame is isn't clear but Abstergo and The Templars are not good people. Dedicated to fighting them at every turn is The Brotherhood of Assassins, a band of professional killers who train from a young age to preserve innocent life and remain a secret in their endless war against The Templars. There's a lot more to the game but it's not relevant here since those characters and events won't appear here.

Anyway, hope everyone enjoys…

Chapter 1

Waiting, Watching

Santana Lopez always took her time on a job. In her personal time she was quite impatient, but when she was working time didn't matter. It was part of her motto, no surprises, if you took your time and studied your target until you were absolutely certain that you knew all of their habits and routines down to the smallest detail, then you'd never be surprised and there couldn't be any complications. The Brotherhood of Assassins demanded that all targets be taken out cleanly, no evidence, no witnesses and no collateral damage, so for Santana patience was the name of the game.

To that end, this Pierce job was infuriating. When she'd been sent the file for it, Santana thought the job would be a walk, in and out in less than a week. How hard could it be to track and eliminate a 22 year old dancer with seemingly no combat training or any sort of special skills? There was nothing in the girl's file as to why or how she was involved with the Templars and even less to explain why the highly secretive cabal was interested in her, but that wasn't for Santana to worry about. Orders came down from above and they had to be followed or The Brotherhood would fall apart. Without trust, you had nothing. So the orders came down and Brittany Susan Pierce of New York City would die by her hand.

Except that this woman was impossible to predict. She had seemingly no routine, no habits. She woke up anywhere between 6am and 2pm, sometimes she would go to dance classes, sometimes as a student, sometimes as a teacher, sometimes she'd have lunch before, sometimes she wouldn't eat until dinner. Some days she would go to Central Park and feed the ducks three days in a row. Some days she'd go to the Aquarium for hours on end. Some days she'd take the subway, some days a cab, and others she'd walk dozens of blocks. Some nights she'd sit home and watch cartoons, many nights she'd go out but never to the same club in any noticeable pattern, some nights to a dance club, sometimes to gay bars, sometimes to small concert venues, sometimes she'd pick someone up, sometimes she'd be picked up, men or women, she seemed indiscriminate in that regard, other nights she'd fend off everyone that approached her. There was literally no predicting this girl. It was as though she acted purely on impulse alone. Santana found it simultaneously fascinating and infuriating.

One of the first things The Brotherhood teaches recruits about tracking is that human beings are creatures of habit. People instinctively flock to certain places that they feel comfortable or safe. Recruits learn that in a week of watching someone you will always find at least three places a target gravitates toward, and yet in over three weeks of watching Brittany… her target, never personalize targets by thinking about their names, because then they become people with families and that just complicates things… in three weeks of Santana tracking her target, she had never visited the same restaurant, club, bar, or coffee shop more than twice and never in any predictable pattern. The dance studio was out, too many witnesses including lots of children. Santana would never risk the lives or well being, physical or mental, of kids by dispatching a target somewhere they frequented. That left only one other place, the apartment and that wasn't going to be easy.

The fifteenth floor apartment was an open floor plan loft, essentially a huge square with no interior walls other than those of the bathroom and one small closet. Contrary to what you see in the movie and on TV shows, most private residences don't have air ducts big enough for humans to crawl through, maybe some of the more petite members of The Brotherhood like Sister Corazon could pull that off, even then it was risky, but for Santana and her killer curves it was an impossibility. Infiltration of the building was going to be tricky. The floor to ceiling windows didn't open and they let in far too much light for her liking. The roof was less than ideal. The door had an alarm that went off when it was opened and it wasn't designed to be opened from the outside. Santana had training in bypassing alarms but it was never something she excelled at, and she didn't like relying on uncertainties. No surprises. The front door was doable. Security was tight but no security team was perfect, she had aliases a plenty that could get her through the door and even up the elevator, but would Brit… the target be there once she got there? She acted on a whim at seemingly all times. It would take Santana at least fifteen minutes to get from her observation perch to the front door, much less through security and up to the apartment and security wouldn't just let her disappear into the building and never come back out if she wound up having to wait hours or even days on the target to return.

It was missions like this where Santana understood why other assassins preferred to work in pairs or small groups so that someone could do surveillance while others infiltrated, and why others worked with tech. But tech could be compromised and used against you and Santana didn't get along with most people and even if she did she didn't have a partner now nor did she have time to learn to partner with someone for this mission, that took months if not years to become accommodated to how another assassin worked. For good or ill, she'd accepted this mission so that meant it was hers to accomplish, the logistics of it were just something that she'd have to work out.

She contemplated procuring a high powered rifle and taking her down from her observation perch but guns were unpredictable and Santana couldn't account for the glass in the window. How thick was it? Was it bulletproof? And then, of course, she'd have to engineer some way to get the bullet back because that would count as evidence. No, a gun wasn't going to work either. How was it that this girl of no particular importance managed to get herself one of the best defensible apartments in the city?

The best chance she had to get into the apartment with the target without drawing attention was to be invited there which meant contact with the target and that had an element of risk. Contact meant being seen which was generally against the Creed of the Brotherhood. It meant being seen by the target and more problematically it meant being seen near the target, being seen with the target. It meant potential witnesses. Santana usually avoided contact for just that reason. It wasn't ego for Santana to say that she knew that she was strikingly beautiful. It wasn't ego because it was a detriment as often as not, since people tended to remember seeing someone as beautiful as her. Add in the fact that Brittany was… the target was what many would describe as adorably cute and impossibly sexy and that meant that the two of them together for any length of time would catch someone's eye, and probably several someone's.

A cold approach at one of the bars or clubs was the best chance to minimize exposure but it carried a fairly high chance of being rejected and then where would she be? No, that wasn't the right play. It was time to put her seduction training to work. She'd used it plenty of times but she'd never had to use it on a job before, only in her personal time. She wasn't sure if she was eager to try something new, as she usually was, or worried about the unknown, maybe she was both.

Brittany almost never… the target almost never interacted with people in the park, ignoring them in favor of the animals, ducks and geese mostly, so that meant the best chance of catching her attention was at the dance studio. Santana knew how to dance, not as well as the target, but she'd pass for a dance class student easily, so three days later when she tracked the target heading towards the studio again, Santana quickly ducked into a secluded area to quickly don a set of black and red yoga pants and a red tank top. She made her way into the building paying the visitor's fee and quickly found the group her target was in and joined in. It went against every instinct Santana possessed to turn her back on a target but she needed Brittany to notice her. Rule number one of seduction was never make the first move, always let them come to you. To that end Santana positioned herself in front of and slightly to the left her target hoping that the rear view she'd be presenting would be enticing enough for Brittany to take the initiative.

After only a couple of minutes Santana started to feel the prickles at the back of her neck telling her that she was being observed. On instinct, she focused her threat sense, her trained ability to pick up hostile intentions in her immediate area, and found none. She hazarded a glance back over her right shoulder to see if the person watching her was the one she wanted to be watching her. Her eyes met with Brittany's beautiful blues and the bubbly blonde smiled brightly at her... that is to say that she made visual connection with the target and, ah fuck it, this was a seduction job she could think the girl's name. Brittany smiled at her. Santana returned the smile before remembering that she was supposed to be playing it cool and making the girl work for her attention. Basic seduction technique: we pursue that which flees from us. Santana turned her focus back to the front of the room but continued to feel the prickles at her neck. She smiled to herself and tried to convince herself that it was a self-satisfied smirk but it wasn't. She was just flattered and happy.

After the class, Santana stopped by the door to get a bottle of water from the vending machine, or rather that was the story she was planning on telling Brittany when the blonde caught up with her, and right on cue she burst out of the classroom into the lobby and looked around to find the pretty Latina she was making eyes at earlier struggling with the vending machine. She bopped over to her and said, "Hey!"

"Hey," Santana replied. She wasn't sure which role to play with this girl. She'd witnessed her variously picking up or being picked up on several occasions and, once again, all of them were different, but she had to make a decision fast.

"You're a really good dancer," Brittany said to her, "are you in the business?"

Bashful, Bi-Curious Straight Girl, it is. Santana dropped her gaze and said, "Oh, gosh, no, but aren't you sweet for thinking I could be. Are you? I mean you're a lot better than me."

Brittany looked confused, "You only saw me for like a second. I kept wanting you to turn back around…"

"I was by here a couple of weeks ago," Santana clarified, "when I first got to town and I saw you teaching a class. I thought you were amazing." She was buttering the girl up to be sure but she really wasn't lying at all. She knew the girl to be an amazing dancer; weeks of surveillance had shown Brittany to be a virtual master of all forms of dance, even stripping. Santana tried to shake the last image from her head.

"So what's your name?" Brittany asked.

"Santana," she replied and then nearly freaked out on herself. Why the hell had she just done that? She'd just told a target her real name. She had a hundred working aliases and she could pull any of them out. She was supposed to be Christina Vargas, why the hell didn't she say that or any other fucking name other than her real goddamn name? Fuck it, in a couple of days it wouldn't matter.

"That's a really pretty name," she smiled, "I'm Brittany P. There's another Brittany in my circle of friends so she's Brittany L. and I'm Brittany P, but you don't know her so you can just call me Brittany, and I'm totally rambling, sorry about that. Anyways some friends and I are going out tonight," Brittany said, "if you wanted to join us that would be totally awesome."

"Oh, yeah?" Santana was playing the bashful thing to the hilt; she smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear willing herself to blush if she could. "That sounds great but I can't tonight. I told my sister I'd babysit my niece and nephew so her and her husband could go out. It's their anniversary. Thanks so much for inviting me, rain check?"

"Totally! You wanna give me your number?" Brittany asked.

Santana rolled her eyes, "I'm having trouble with my carrier. I'm going there now. I may be cancelling my contract. Can I have yours and I'll text you when I know for sure what's going on?"

"Yeah, sure," Brittany said. She went to the desk just inside the front door, grabbed a scrap of paper, wrote quickly, and walked back to Santana. "Here you go," she said, "we're sometimes out late if your sister comes back early enough." Santana took the piece of paper and saw that Brittany had dotted her I with a smiley face. Santana's natural urge to want to gag at this never came, surprisingly.

"Okay," Santana nodded, "I'll let you know. I'll text you soon."

"K."

Accepting the first offer of a date, especially a group outing, was a rookie mistake. It gave the inviter all the power in the relationship. They could dictate the terms of the relationship, virtually forever. Waiting was always the better option for the group invite. Brittany wanted her, she knew that now, and she thought Santana was some on the verge, baby lesbian so she'd try again and soon, but something more personal with a better chance of getting the invite home. She went to the nearest cell phone store and bought the most impressive looking burner phone she could find and an hour after she left the dance studio, she shot Brittany a text with her number. After that she knew she needed new clothes, clothes to match the personality that was supposed to be Christina Vargas but now was Santana. She was still pissed at herself for that and was trying to figure out why she'd done it, just so that it never happened again. She'd been thinking about the night Brittany brought some guy back to her place and done an elaborate striptease, but so what? It's not like Santana hadn't ever seen a pair of tits before, and even if Brittany's were possibly the most amazingly perfect pair she'd ever seen, that was no reason to be so off her game. What the hell was it about this girl? First Santana couldn't stop calling her by her name even though it's never been a problem before, then she told the girl her real name. Was Santana slipping?

Santana didn't hear from Brittany the next day, not that she expected to. She never came home which was odd since she almost always did, even if it was at four in the morning, but once again this was a girl who had no pattern whatsoever. The subsequent morning she saw Brittany come stumbling in after 9 am. She looked as though she'd been up for two says. Disheveled hair and rumpled clothes, plastic arm bands and neon face paint; Santana guessed she'd likely been to a rave. The exhausted girl shed her dress and collapsed on the bed. She knew she'd have hours before Brittany even so much as moved again, so she went to the dance studio to the class that she'd attended two day previous and afterwards set some bait texting Brittany, "missed u at dance 2day, hope 2 hear from u -Tana". She dared to catch some extra sleep to make up for the absence of any yesterday. Necessity had forced her off Brittany's trail and she hadn't been able to pick the unpredictable girl back up. If she was at a rave that would certainly explain why.

Part of her training with The Brotherhood was learning to go without sleep for long stretches of time and to exist on far less sleep when she did. No graduate of The Academy required more than four hours of sleep in a day and could go for at least three days without any at all. Santana had herself trained down to three and a half hours a day and had once had gone 94 hours before she had to sleep. However, there was no need to press herself now, her target was asleep and likely to stay that way for the better part of the day, so Santana let herself drift off.

The sound of her new phone ringing shocked her awake. She briefly examined the display and found she'd been out for five hours. It was, of course, Brittany calling; she was the only one that had this number. "Hello?"

"Tana?"

"Brittany?" She played dumb.

"Yeah, I didn't recognize your voice there for a second. I thought maybe some other girl with a sexy voice had answered," she said flirty. "I remember you said something about having a sister. I didn't wake you up did I?"

"If you'd called about one minute earlier you would have, but as it happened my alarm clock beat you to it."

"Okay, glad I didn't wake you. So do you like have to babysit tonight?"

"No, those little terrors are their mommy and daddy's problems tonight."

"That bad?"

"Only for me because they know Auntie Tana is such a pushover."

"Is that what everyone calls you? Tana? Cuz I was thinking I was gonna call you San," Brittany said.

"San's fine," she replied with a smile, "I think I like it." Anything that got Brittany to call her something other than her full first name was fine, but she honestly did like the sound of Brittany calling her San… which was problematic. Liking anything about Brittany was going to make what had to be done that much harder.

She tried to push it all down, but then Brittany giggled into the phone and it was easily the cutest thing that she'd ever heard and Santana smiled in spite of herself. "So if you're not babysitting," Brittany said, "can I take you up on your rain check from the other night?"

"Tonight?" Santana clarified. She honestly couldn't believe the girl was up already much less that she had the energy to go out again already. Maybe she had had some sort sleep control training too. The dossier didn't have anything that would indicate it, but it was the only guess Santana had.

"Yeah, totally," Brittany replied, "unless it's not a good night again…"

"No," Santana cut her off very quickly, too quickly for her own liking, "tonight is fine. What did you have in mind?"

"Not sure," she said, "I went to this huge party yesterday and there were so many people around. Wanna do something, just the two of us?" Santana smiled. "Like I dunno, do you wanna get some dinner or something?"

Santana grinned at the phone as though Brittany could see her. "Dinner sounds good," she said, playing up her bashfulness once again, "Maybe something else after if you wanted."

"Something like what?" The question was all eager curiosity.

"Well, like, I don't know... We're both pretty good dancers, I mean I'm pretty good. You're amazing. Maybe we could find somewhere not too crowded to get our dance on." Santana honestly didn't know if this babbling, tongue tied thing was an act anymore or not.

"That sounds awesome. If we're going dancing be sure to dress sexy. As sexy as you feel comfortable with anyway."

"Okay," Santana said, she'd show Brittany what the fuck sexy was, "I don't have a car, do you?" She already knew the answer of course.

"No," Brittany said.

"Okay, do you want to meet somewhere, or I could bring a cab around to get you?"

"Let's just meet," Brittany said, "that way neither of us is waiting on the other while the meter is running, y'know?"

"Smart," Santana said. She left it to Brittany where they ate. She picked a place that Santana hadn't heard of but Brittany assured her would be enjoyable and easy enough for the driver to find. They agreed to meet at 8 which was just over two hours away. Santana hung up and immediately jumped in the shower. When she got out she toweled herself off, opting to let her hair air dry to leave her natural wave for once. She then went about picking out clothes. Black lace push up bra to make her already amazing looking tits look even better and a matching thong. Tight black jeans, a red deep v-neck sweater that clung to her like skin and gray calf length high heeled boots completed the outfit. Brittany said dress sexy.

Santana arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes early to scope the place out. After about five minutes of looking the place over she suddenly realized that she really didn't have to bother. There was nothing that needed secured. She was the predator in this situation. As far as Brittany was concerned this was just a date… or just hanging out… or something. Still Santana's instincts were to know her surroundings and she had time to kill. Being prepared wouldn't hurt anything.

Brittany arrived right on time and Santana was waiting outside the place to greet her. When Brittany stepped out of her cab she could only stare and say, "Whoa, San!"

Santana smiled at her and said, "Yeah, you too." Brittany's hair was in loose curls falling down over both shoulders and she was wearing this tiny black strapless mini dress with cutouts down the left side that demonstrated that the girl was clearly wearing nothing underneath. It was at this point that Santana began to worry that she might be in some trouble tonight.

An hour later, Santana knew she was in trouble when she'd gone twenty straight minutes without thinking about the fact that this night was supposed to end in Brittany's death. She had spent the time listening as Brittany told stories about growing up in Lima, Ohio and someone named Lord Tubbington whom she originally thought to be a household pet until the girl started talking about his recurring smoking habit, laughing at her silly jokes, and basically behaving in all ways as if she were on a first date… not acting like she was on a date, mind, but actually behaving as such. Mentally she berated herself for ever allowing herself to think about Brittany's name rather than just thinking of her as "the target" like she was trained to and for even contemplating the seduction approach, but there was just something about the girl. Santana liked her. Santana settled the bill discretely on the way to the restroom, which Brittany was slightly upset by since she had been the one to ask her out, but Santana figured that The Brotherhood could pick up this lovely girl's last meal.

"So I got to pick where we ate, and you paid," Brittany said, "so you pick where we go dancing and I'll buy drinks."

"Sounds fair enough," Santana smiled and once again turned on the bashfulness, "So there's this club I've been told about called Passion?" It was one of the many places that Santana had tracked Brittany to in the last four weeks. It was also one of the places that Brittany had left alone at the end of the night, so less likely to run into a spurned lover.

"That's…" Brittany's eyes widened slightly and the vaguest hints of a smile appeared at the corners of her mouth, "You know that's a gay night club, right?"

Time for Santana to act her ass off, one side of her mouth crept up in a sly smile and she tried to force herself to blush, tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "That's okay, right? I mean, this…" she feigned embarrassment, "this is a date, right?" Brittany smiled slightly. "I mean, you told me to dress sexy, then you show up in a dress that clearly demonstrates that you aren't wearing underwear, and then you're upset that I paid. It feels like a date to me."

Brittany's lips broke into a huge smile, "It totally is," she said, "I'm sorry for not asking you properly. I wasn't totally sure you were into girls or into me, but I think you're totally hot and I don't really know that much about you but I kinda like you, San."

"It's okay," Santana reassured her, "I knew what I was signing up for when we talked on the phone. I wanted this. I like you, too, Britt." Britt? Really? It was bad enough that she let her have a name, but now she was giving her a pet name, too? Santana began thinking that she was now completely screwed.

Forty five minutes later she knew that she wasn't screwed… she was fucked, completely and utterly fucked. Brittany was dancing with her body pressed tightly against her and she was loving every second of it. Brittany was dancing and smiling and laughing and Santana couldn't help but reflect the sweet girl's mood. Santana hadn't just let go and had fun in a long, long time, maybe not ever, but there was just something so infectiously sweet about Brittany that it was extremely easy to forget that she was in some way associated with an evil cabal bent on world domination. In fact, Santana was finding it harder and harder to believe that Brittany was a Templar. The notion seemed pretty absurd, but she really wasn't thinking about that at the moment. She was thinking about how amazingly sexy Brittany was when she was dancing, about how amazing it felt to be pressed up against her on the dance floor moving and sweating together as one, and about… about what it would be like to make love to Brittany, not just fucking her like she normally did all hands and friction but actually making love to her, pouring feelings and emotion into her touches to make Brittany feel what she feels. That, of course, led her to the sudden realization that to make love to someone you had to first be in love with them… hence why she knew she was fucked.

She was dancing face to face, chest to chest with Brittany, a half consumed and all but forgotten drink in one hand, the other encircling Brittany's waist. Brittany had her arms draped over Santana's shoulders her fingers interlaced behind her head. Santana was completely engulfed in the scent of the taller girl and she didn't know how she knew this but Santana would go to her grave swearing that Brittany smelled like a ray of sunshine.

Santana was trying to think and the scent and sight and sounds of Brittany were distracting… very distracting. She was trying to reconcile her mission and what she wanted. For the first time in her life the two things were at odds. Her mission, The Brotherhood, fighting The Templars had been her whole life up until now. She had forsaken anything approaching a normal life to become an assassin. It was who she was, but being there in Brittany's arms, she wasn't sure it was who she wanted to continue to be, not if it meant killing Brittany to do it. Still it wasn't exactly easy to just decide to throw away everything you've worked for your whole life, especially on someone who very likely would move on to the next person tomorrow or the next day. In nearly a month, Santana had never seen Brittany with the same person more than once and she couldn't give up everything just to be a one night stand.

Then it happened. She was deep in thought about what to do and staring off into the distance when Brittany's soft lips pressed against hers. Santana's body reacted instinctively pressing herself against Brittany, tightening her grip around the girl's waist, and of course, returning the kiss with a mountain emotion behind it. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Assassins and Templars, missions and targets, the ceramic dagger in purse, none it mattered because she was kissing Brittany and that feeling was worth giving up anything, her past, her future, her life… anything, if she could just keep doing it.

Hands roamed over hips and butts and thighs. Santana was reminded of the now annoying drink that was occupying one of her hands that could have been of much better use elsewhere. Momentarily, however, she noticed a waitress nearing them and Santana unceremoniously plopped the glass on her tray and her right hand went to the bare skin of the cutout panel on Brittany's left hip and she lightly grazed the tips of her fingers over the naked skin there. Brittany's entire body shuttered and she finally broke off their kiss. She said, "San, there's something I need to tell you." Was this how she did it? Get someone so incredibly worked up and then tell them that they could be together but only for the night? If so then Santana would still agree. They would be together tonight and then she would complete her mission, and after that she would get herself taken off operations and get transferred to logistics or intelligence or some other department, because if Santana was going to have to kill this beautiful woman that she loved, she would be the last one. "When I was younger," Brittany continued, "and I first started understanding things about, y'know, feelings and stuff, I asked my mom about how I would know who I was supposed to spend my life with, she said that you just have to find someone that you feel an intense connection to, and I always wanted to feel for someone like my mom feels for my dad. Even after almost 30 years, they're so in love that it's ridiculous, and I wanted to find that so bad that I was… I've been what a lot of people would call slutty. I was always safe, but I've slept around a lot. It was always to try to find that connection and I'm telling you all of this because I think it's there between us. I hope me saying this doesn't freak you out because I know it's way early to be saying this sort of thing…"

Santana smiled from ear to ear and in that moment she made a decision. "It's okay, honey. I'm not freaked out," she said, "I feel it too. It's… I don't know it's like nothing I've ever felt before. The past is the past and nothing before tonight matters to me anymore."

Brittany beamed at her, "Do you wanna get out of her? Come back to my place?"

"Hells yes," Santana said.

A/N: So thoughts? This will probably be about four or maybe five parts all told. That is, if you guys like it. (Edit: LOL!)