How she has a law degree from Harvard, and still manages to end up in Bumfuck, Virginia, she'll never understand. Sure the economy sucks, and she really can't afford to turn down a job opportunity, but still, Mystic Falls is even worse than Lima. She's been in town a week so far, mostly spending her time unpacking her belongings, and setting up the small house she bought with what was left of her trust fund. Her dad had been well off, but not loaded, and her mother had taken off when she was five. So after her father's heart attack, she had enough in her trust fund to put herself through law school, and buy this house.
It's Sunday evening, she's finally all unpacked and she starts work at city hall tomorrow morning, so she really needs a drink. Her number one complaint about Mystic Falls (so far) is that there is only one decent place to get a drink in town, and it also happens to be the hangout spot for all the whiny bitches and assholes that go to high school in town.
She doesn't really have any options, so she grabs her purse as she heads out the door for the short walk to the Grill. People are not subtle in this town, the minute she walks into the Grill almost every pair of eyes in the place are on her and the place is practically silent. She's new in town, but she's also got the kind of confidence that would draw attention anyway, so she's almost used to it by now. Plus her ass looks amazing in these jeans.
A smirk in place she walks directly to the bar, winking at the table of teenage guys that are practically drooling on her way over, and takes a seat right in front of the bartender. The noise level slowly begins to return to normal as she orders her beer. The chick who's bartending gives her a dirty look before going to get her drink, and Santana just rolls her eyes. This town is fucked.
She takes a draw from the bottle placed in front of her and turns on the bar stool to scope out the restaurant. Her eyes scan the crowd, which is mostly rowdy teenagers and families having dinner together, and absolutely no fucking prospects. Which sucks, because she could really use some crazy hot sex to turn this week around.
It's about an hour later, as she's nursing her third beer and just polished of a plate of fries, when he walks in. He's tall and muscular, with dark hair she can tell he's been running his hands through, just enough to mess it up a little. He's wearing black dress pants and a collared shirt he has partially unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She also sees a long, angry scratch visible on his neck. He's basically the sexiest guy she's seen since moving to this crap town. Actually he's the sexiest guy she's seen, well ever she thinks. And he doesn't even look at her as he slides onto the empty barstool next to her.
She's not used to being ignored, it feels way too much like a challenge to her.
The bartender places a whiskey in front of him, smiling and saying it's on the house. Santana watches as he takes a sip while the chick behind the bar looks at him expectantly; bitch is desperate and the guy is clearly not interested. She tries, and fails, to hold back her laugh at the whole thing, but it finally gets his attention.
He gives her this tired smile and raises his glass in the air, "Cheers".
Clearly he's not in the best of moods, she can tell by the slump of his shoulders, and his tired expression. But that's fine she knows how she can cheer both of them up.
"Bad day?" she asks when he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Something like that," is his answer, and she doesn't really know what he means by that. So instead of answering, she finishes her beer and orders a whiskey for herself, and another for tall, dark and broody sitting next to her.
She's not entirely sure how it happens, but she's not complaining when an hour later the mysterious stranger, whose name she found out is Tyler, has her pinned against the door of his apartment. His mouth is hard and demanding on hers, and he's tugging both of them out of their clothing faster than she thought possible. When he pulls his mouth away to get her top over her head, the dark glint in his eye makes her shiver with anticipation, and the slightest hint of fear.
Her last coherent thought as he finally slips into her, is that there is something very different about him.
He's lying wide-awake in his bed recalling the last few hours, and the implications, instead of sleeping like the gorgeous woman to his right and it pisses him off. Partly because he's had a shit weekend, and he could really use the sleep before work the next day, but mostly because he shouldn't be messing up any more lives.
It's all her fault anyway, she was gorgeous, confident, and flirtatious, and he was weak after his transformation on Friday night. He'd needed a distraction, and damn if she hadn't delivered. He'd barely been able to keep his hands off of her until they reached his apartment, and he'd taken her against the door, without even getting her last name. He doesn't even know how he managed to do it, but he held himself back the first time, wanting to watch her orgasm, but feeling her tighten around him as her nails scraped down his back, and hearing her scream his name had snapped something inside of him.
When he got them to his bed, he hadn't held back at all. He'd truly lost control for the first time in his human form, and it scared the hell out of him. Even more so that she had reveled in the animalistic way he'd gone at her.
The twelve years that had passed since the end of high school were fucked beyond belief. The low point being when he'd killed the best friend he'd ever had, and the only woman he'd ever really loved. Their relationship had been doomed from the beginning if he was being honest with himself; they both knew being friends was a huge disaster waiting to happen. But when someone puts their life on the line in order to help you through the scariest thing in your life, it creates an unbreakable bond.
He doesn't know why he's thinking about all this right now, alcohol and a strong will have gotten him through the past seven years pretty well. He guesses he's more shaken than he realized by what happened, and it opened up all his old wounds.
He pushes all thoughts of the past out of his brain, and closes his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep.
Santana wakes up disoriented in the early hours of the morning in an unfamiliar room. When she rolls over to see the man she now knows as Tyler, lying next to her fast asleep, the past night's events come rushing back to her. She can feel the heat in her cheeks as she thinks of what they did, but she's never been embarrassed before, she's not about to start now.
She does however, slink out of bed quietly, and start searching the small apartment for her clothes, shoes and purse. Once she's located everything she had with her the night before at the Grill, she looks in on Tyler one last time, before stealthily slipping from the apartment.
By the time she gets back to her house, it's seven in the morning, and she heads straight into the shower to start getting ready for her first day of work at City Hall. She dresses in a simple cream coloured silk blouse and slate grey dress pants, and finishes with a pair of dark red pumps, because if she's going to make it through this horrific first day in this godforsaken town, at least she could look hot while doing it.
Once she's settled in her new office at City Hall later that morning, she's greeted by a knock at her door and looks up to see the Public Relations woman she'd met earlier that morning when she'd arrived.
Rachel Berry was a petite woman with a gorgeous body, and like Santana, knew how to dress it well. She was also probably the most outgoing and lively person she had ever met.
Santana greeted her with a smile, "Come on in," she said, gesturing to the empty chairs in her office.
Rachel took a seat in one of the comfy, plush chairs on the opposite side of the desk from Santana and placed two cups of coffee in front of her.
"If you're going to survive this place, you're going to need George's French Vanilla lattes," she said with a smile on her face as she pushed one of the cups across the desk towards her, "The only place you'll find decent coffee in town."
Santana picked up the coffee and took a sip, and for the first time in days, felt human again. Rachel was right, good coffee was hard to find here.
"Amazing!" she said placing the cup down on her desk again, "So how did you end up in Mystic Falls, Rachel? You don't seem like the small town kind of girl, trust me, I would know."
"It's a long story, but what it comes right down to is, this was the only place I could get experience, and get paid well to boot. And well, it just kind of stuck, it's the kind of place you learn to love," Rachel answered, a wistful look on her face.
Santana laughed, "Something tells me it's not the town you fell in love with," she said, fixing Rachel with a pointed look.
Rachel blushed, "Guilty," she said holding out her left hand to show her the gorgeous diamond ring glinting on her finger, "His name is Noah Puckerman, he's the football coach at the local high school."
Santana sat back in her chair with a smile on her face and held out her coffee cup to Rachel, as they clicked their cups together, Santana said, "I think you and I are going to get along just fine Rachel."
She chose to ignore the slightly guilty look on Rachel's face at that moment.
The Mayor was an infuriating man to track down, she wanted to introduce herself to the man she suspected she'd be working closely with from now on, but he'd been in and out of his office so frequently that day, she'd missed him many times. However late in the afternoon his receptionist had called to say that he was just finishing up an important meeting and that he would be free to meet with her afterwards. So the grabbed up her purse and packed a briefcase with some files she needed to familiarize herself with that night, and headed towards his office.
It was when she got there though, that her day really took a turn for the worse.
When she walked into the Mayor's office, it was only to come face to face with the man she had spent the previous night with.
"Miss Lopez, I'm Mayor Lockwood," he said holding out his hand for her.
It took a moment for her to react (mostly because she was plotting ways to kill him with her bare hands, that asshole!) but she raised her hand to his and gave him a firm shake, pinning him with a look she hoped conveyed her anger. Tyler simply grinned, and gestured to the man standing next to him. Dressed in a leather jacket, the man with the black hair and piercing blue eyes exuded confidence.
"Damon Salvatore, I imagine we'll be seeing a fair bit of each other Miss Lopez," he said by way of an introduction, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.
Ignoring him and his lewd remarks, she was more than used to men like him thinking they could get with her with a simple nod of the head, Santana returned her attention to Tyler, "A word, Mayor?"
She couldn't wait to here him explain this one.