This one's been sitting in the editing phase for a while now. Finally decided to finish it up. Here you go, a little Santana/Sebastian futurefic.


Eight years. Eight solid years of winning in court. Every case. Every appeal. With the exception of one at the beginning of his career, but that one hardly counted when weighed against the rest of his record. He had taken the best of the best and cut them down, whittled away their self esteem over and over again, until there was nothing left. Until their will to fight had been abandoned. Sometimes the process was so slow and so subtle that they never realized it until too late, until they woke up one morning and realized they hated their job, hated their life, and couldn't go on. That was when they stopped showing up to work and he usually heard rumors later of a house in Florida, or Hawaii, or Wisconsin - wherever washed up, emotionally flattened, loser lawyers go to retire. He wouldn't know. He'd probably never know.

But now? He was facing a curvy, attractive Latina woman, clearly a new comer to his neck of the woods, judging by the fact that he'd never seen her before and she wasn't trembling at his feet, who had one thin eyebrow raised in a look that he rarely saw on opponents' faces anymore. Determination.

Her dark almond eyes were narrowed, just the faintest hint of a smirk tipping the corners on her full lips, and although he was gay, he couldn't stop his eyes from tracing down the v-cut of her deep violet top to the edge of her suit jacket, and skirting down to her narrow waist that flared into some serious hips where one of her hands lay. The fluorescent lights in the hallway reflected almost threateningly against the blood red of her perfectly manicured nails.

He met her eyes again, flashing her a false smile that usually left women fanning themselves, and ducked his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he purred.

"Lopez," she answered curtly. "Santana Lopez, with Anderson and Berry Attorneys at Law."

Sebastian snorted internally. Leave it to the old sleaze-ball Jonathan Anderson to hire such a bombshell. He had probably gotten one look at her breasts and handed the girl her first paycheck. In fact, Sebastian would be willing to bet that most of her intelligence was confined to what went on between the sheets. And if that were true, that put Seb in a serious position of power. Sure, he was gay, but he wasn't above using his charm to throw a woman off her game.

"Nice to meet you Ms. Lopez, Mr. Anderson is well known and well respected. I'm sure you'll do him well."

"I'm sure I won't, considering he's gay."

She had caught the innuendo. Sebastian frowned. And since when was Jonathan Anderson gay? Wasn't he married with two kids?

The one eyebrow that had been higher than the other sank down to join its counterpart as she leaned in. "I know who you are, Smythe. I've followed your career for years. I've watched closely as you've broken weaker men than yourself and seduced those you couldn't break. But I'm not weak - and I'm certainly not a man."

Maybe she knew he was gay too. Well, then. If that's how she wanted to play it. "I'm well aware that you're not a man," he answered lowly, his eyes raking up and down her body a couple times. He let them linger a little longer on her breasts than normal before meeting her eyes again.

"Oh, Mr. Smythe," she murmured, her full lips breaking into a very naughty grin. "I'm certainly not one to fall for a man's masculine wiles."

This was almost too easy. Sure, it might mean sleeping with a woman, but what was one more time if it meant he won another case? He was close to making partner and winning this case would certainly put him as a front runner for the position in his firm. Sebastian ducked his head and fixed her with a sensual look that he'd perfected over the years.

"You're sure about that?" he wondered. "Maybe you just haven't met the right man."

She licked her lips. "Oh, I'm sure, Mr. Smythe," she answered. "There's not a man on earth that could lure me into bed."

"Playing hard to get then?"

He watched her eyes drift over his shoulder and a larger smile drift across her face. "Oh, I'm already gotten," she told him.

He thought about pointing out her obvious grammatical error, but instead, his curiosity got the better of him. Sebastian glanced over his shoulder but didn't see anyone that looked like he could be waiting for her. A couple older men, both dressed in cheap shirts, two kids being towed along by a harried and frustrated mother, a pretty blond woman standing with a young, strawberry blond girl, and a security guard.

"That's never stopped women before."

Santana Lopez straightened up and fixed him with a look that he couldn't decipher. "I'm sure it hasn't. But -"

"Aunt Tana?"

The strawberry blonde girl had appeared at her knee, taking the Latina's hand and tugging.

"Oops! I'm sorry," the blond woman said, a little breathlessly as she approached from behind him. "I tried to get her to wait, but she's really hungry and I told her we would get supper as soon as you were finished talking to the slimy man."

Sebastian was about to address the 'slimy' comment, but he was distracted by Ms. Lopez picking up the girl and swinging her easily onto her hip. "I'm hungry, Aunt Tana. Can we go to Burger King?"

The girl wrapped an arm around her aunt's neck and stared at Sebastian for a moment. He had to focus on not shifting under her the stare of her wide, hazel eyes. Something about the look disconcerted him. The girl put her mouth to Santana's ear and whispered, probably so Sebastian wouldn't overhear, even though he did, "he doesn't look slimy."

"You know what?" she answered, glancing at Sebastian, "The word 'slimy' is a word that grown-ups use to describe people who like to lie and cheat, and manipulate people to get what they want."

"Oh…" The girl nodded slowly, as if contemplating the sudden realization. "So, he lies and cheats and mapinu - mapi - man -" The girl sighed. "He's a bad man?"

The blond woman flushed and took the girl by the armpits, removing her from the female lawyer's arms. "We'll talk about this later, okay Lizzie?"

The girl nodded as the blond looked apologetically at Santana. "Sorry."

Santana smiled, a real smile, and slid her hand into the blond's. "It's not a problem. I know how much Lizzie takes after Blaine in regards to his stomach. But -" Santana looked at Sebastian again. "I'd like you to meet Sebastian Smythe, one of Boston's best lawyers. Sebastian, this my wife, Brittany."

What? "Wife?" he managed finally, forcing his self-assured grin to remain on his face. "That's wonderful." He extended his hand towards the blond. "It's nice to meet you."

Brittany gave him a bland, uninterested look. "Most lawyers are reincarnated at bottom-feeders," she told him, not bothering to free a hand to shake his. "Usually as a bristle worm. Or a sea cucumber."

"But not daddy!" the girl chirped. "Daddy's a dolphin!"

This was quickly becoming one of Sebastian's strangest encounters with a fellow lawyer.

"That's right," Brittany answered, bouncing the girl. "Daddy Blaine is a dolphin. And what is Daddy Kurt?"

"Daddy Kurt is a pretty, singing bird!"

"Yes, he is, isn't he?"

Something in Sebastian's head suddenly seemed to come together. He had flashbacks to high school, to nearly fifteen years ago, when he'd attempted to squirm between a boy he was interested in and that boy's boyfriend. It hadn't worked. In fact, things had gone so wrong that - oh Christ. Santana. Brittany. Blaine. Kurt. Shit.

"Brittany, why don't you take Lizzie out to the car? I'll be out in a minute." She kissed the girl's head. "And Daddy Blaine should be done in court right about now. You can call him and see if he wants to join us for dinner at the Palace of Pork-Named-Bovine-Based-Fast-Food-Products. I know Kurt won't be free until his shift is over at the hospital."

Brittany nodded, dropped a quick kiss on Santana's cheek and then lowered the little girl to the ground, took her hand, and led her away. Halfway down the hall he heard giggling, and suddenly the two were skipping. The realization of who he was talking to had must have been displayed on his face because suddenly, Santana's smirk from before was back, only this time, her arms were crossed, and one side of the smirk was higher than the other. Sebastian realized that he no longer held the metaphorical upper-hand.

"Let's get something straight before Monday," she told him. "Yes, I knew you in high school. You were a bastard then and you're a bastard now. I'm well aware that you haven't lost a case in six years, three months, and sixteen days. And yes, I'm still harboring bitterness from what happened nearly fifteen years ago and it's done nothing but fester since we graduated. So I'll let you in on a little secret, Weasel Face. I've been working across the country in San Francisco since I graduated, and like you, I've had one hell of a career. In fact, Greenville v. California, argued and won for Greenville just last year? That was my case."

Lopez. Shit. He'd heard the name and assumed it was a man. And an old one at that. He'd never imagined a young, attractive, female lawyer winning that case.

She paused to let him take that in before continuing. "And I've kept up with your career. I was so intrigued by it, that I decided it was time to move. It was time to move closer to home, closer to family, closer to friends…and so I did. Anderson hired me on immediately, and I'm currently on the fast track to partner." She flashed him a charming smile that almost sent a shiver down his spine. "I'm not the same bitter, disillusioned teenage girl that you knew fifteen years ago. I've grown up." Santana paused and leaned back, as if considering something. "It looks like you haven't though."

Sebastian's smile was merely a front. It was the same smile he gave his coworkers, the smile he used for the barista at the coffee shop around the corner, and the same one he gave his one night stands as the left the next morning with a fingers-crossed promise to call. It was a facade.

"I guess I'll see you in the courtroom, Smythe. I think I've wasted more than enough oxygen conversing with you, and that juvenile hairstyle leaves me wondering when your mother is picking you up from daycare."

She spun on her heel and took a couple strides away before pausing and glancing back.

"In fact, you might want to give her a call. She's probably the only one who won't hide her face in shame after I wipe the floor with your pathetic ass in court."

As he watched her sashay away down the hall, stilettos clicking intimidatingly against the tile floor, he realized that it had been several minutes since he'd spoke. He also realized that this was the first time a woman had left him speechless in years. And finally he realized, with a start, that if she could do that to him outside the courtroom, he was really worried about what she could to do him in a courtroom.