It was cold out. No, not the type of cold that brought the snow, but the kind that brought razor winds that seemed to slash through all protective layers and cut right to the bone. Rachel pulled her jacket just a little bit tighter and moved her legs just a little bit faster as she made her way down Petal Avenue. She wasn't quite familiar with the neighborhood, but it looked welcoming enough. Besides, it was only a couple streets over from her own home so she didn't mind the walk. Or, at least that's what she thought before she left the house. Now that she could no longer feel her face, fingers, or toes, she was having second thoughts.
As the house numbers began to rise, she started paying close attention, looking for house 6098.
"House 6092, 94…ah, here we are!" she exclaimed, walking up to the pink house after giving it a brief once over. It was a modest two-story home with a flower garden bordering the porch. A "Beware of Cat" sign rested peacefully on one of the wooden pillars standing on the porch. Rachel couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. If she wasn't sure that this was the Pierce residence before; she was certain now. The colorful handmade sign had the ditzy blonde's name written all over it.
The small brunette brought her hands to the door, ready to knock, when she heard something slam against the wall from inside the house. She could feel the impact from outside on the porch. Her eyes widened in alarm, especially when a screeching noise accompanied soon after. It didn't quite sound like a girl in distress, but it was still unnerving. A few more thumps could be heard and Rachel wasn't sure what to do. She looked around and there was no one else on the street. She didn't want to walk in on a burglary or fight; she wouldn't be of much use, and neither would her screams if no one was around to hear them.
Steeling her nerves, she drew a deep breath and decided to knock anyway. Perhaps Brittany had a really good, and she did mean good, sound system. You know, surround-sound-it-feels-like-you're-in-the-scene type system. Or maybe the blond was getting a head-start on the routine she was to show to Rachel-
"And accidentally slammed herself against the wall? Yea right," Rachel thought to herself. After three modest raps, nothing happened. The mysterious thuds ceased, and everything was quiet. Several seconds passed, and the small diva frowned when she found herself still staring at the number 6098 on the back of the door. She was sure they heard the knocking, why else would the sounds stop so suddenly. After counting to ten, and growing slightly irate at the winter air and impatient at her friend, she knocked again, and this time louder and with a sense of urgency. It was quiet again before she heard scampering. The steps were rapid, like someone was sprinting, and it definitely sounded like more than one pair of feet. Rachel instinctively stepped back, half expecting a family of blondes to come crashing through the door.
What she heard instead was a loud crash that left her convinced that somebody in the house was probably dying now.
"Brittany!" she called out, walking over to the nearest window and cupping her eyes so that she could peer in. "It's me, Rachel Berry. Is everything alright in there? I have my rape-whistle and 911 on speed dial if-"
"Rachie!" the blond squealed excitedly while simultaneously snatching the front door open. She didn't step outside, obviously not dressed for the weather, Rachel noted as she took in the girl's small shorts and tank top. Not to mention the disheveled hair, flushed face, and heavy breathing that she not so subtly tried to regulate. The brunette may have been sexually inexperienced, but she was not stupid. Either Brittany was in the midst of an intense dance routine, or was mid coital.
"Brittany, hi," she smiled uncomfortably, walking over to the girl in the doorway. "I'm not interrupting anything am I? Because although I was told to arrive at this time, I'm aware of the basic human need to procreate and I'd be willing to come back at a later-"
Rachel was silenced by a warm finger pressing itself into her lips. Her eyes popped at the contact, because honestly, where in the hell had that finger last been?
"You talk a lot," the blond giggled, pulling her hand back and ushering the girl on the porch in. Rachel frowned but followed suit. She noticed at least 3 large dents in the wall, and of course the shattered coffee table that lay in innumerable pieces on the floor.
"So that must've been the large crash I heard," Rachel mentally noted. She allowed her eyes to rake over the tall dancer in front of her, inspecting for blood or cuts or any kind of damage, but the girl's skin was flawless.
"So um, what happened here?" the brunette finally asked, unable to ignore the elephant in the room any longer.
"Oh, you know, dance," Brittany shrugged, leading the tiny diva up the stairs and to her room, passing more dents along the way.
"Dance?" Rachel repeated skeptically.
"Mhmm," the blond nodded before continuing. "Just got a little carried away."
"A little?" Rachel scoffed, suddenly nervous. Knocking over a lamp is a little carried away. Breaking a picture frame is a little carried away. Shattering an entire table, body sized imprints in the wall is more than carried away. "Well, try not to get so lost in your craft when you're teaching me the routine." Brittany laughed but the brunette was dead serious. The blond may be able to magically fall through a glass table and walk away unscathed, but the diva seriously doubted that she too had that kind of serendipity.
The blonde opened her bedroom door and walked in, expecting the brunette to follow close behind. She was about to turn around to say something when large furry black legs sticking from under her bed caught her attention. Upon hearing the door open, the legs started scurrying more frantically as if they were trying to propel themselves under the bed. Unfortunately, they only succeeded in drawing large claw marks across the wooden floor.
"Oh crap," Brittany murmured to herself as she backed away from her bed. She chewed down nervously on her lip as she tried not to panic. Maybe it wasn't too late to close the door. Maybe Rachel hadn't seen it yet. She slowly turned back towards her doorway, and sure enough, Rachel was standing in it, eyes wide in fear, mouth frozen open in a silent scream with her hands gripping both sides of the doorframe.
"Um…" the dancer started, unsure of what to say.
"Brittany!" Rachel gasped, as she reached forward and pulled the blond out of the room and slammed the door shut. "W-what was that?"
"My cat?" she responded, sounding unsure of her own answer.
"Your cat?" the singer replied, still in shock. She had deduced that the cat was probably bigger than her, and all she saw were its legs! Suddenly that "Beware of Cat" sign wasn't so cute. It was deceptive. Misleading. "Beware of beast" seemed more appropriate.
"Where did you find that thing?" A low growl emitted from the other side of the door, causing Rachel to jump back and slam into the wall.
"She's not a thing," Brittany clarified, "she's a she. And oh, you know, around."
"Around?" the brunette echoed. Did her parents know she had this thing? Of course they did, they had to, you couldn't exactly miss it. That definitely explains the walls and table. Hold up. If that animal was damaging the house like that, there's no telling what it could do to Brittany.
"Brittany, that thing," another growl erupted.
"She," the blond corrected.
"She," Rachel tried again, slightly exasperated, "is dangerous. We have to get out of here."
"No she isn't," Brittany said. "She's sweet and fun and awesome and just really protective." This time a purr could be heard through the walls.
"She," Rachel said through clenched teeth, "put holes in the walls and was basically clawing through your bedroom floor."
"She was stuck!" the blond exclaimed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Yea because it's completely normal for a cat," she said the word with evident distaste and skepticism, "to get stuck under a bed that's over two feet off the ground."
Brittany rolled her eyes. Talking about the cat apparently wasn't getting through to the girl, so now she had to show her. She reached for the door to push it open but was jerked back before she could.
"What are you doing?" Rachel asked frantically.
"Opening the door so you can see for yourself." She tried to reach forward again but the grip on her arm tightened.
"No, you can't do that!" Rachel's voice dripped with fear and uncertainty.
"Yes, I can silly," Brittany giggled, trying to wiggle herself from the tight hands wound around arms.
"No, you really can't," the tiny diva insisted, as she started pulling her away from the door.
"No, just let me get her so you can meet her," Brittany insisted as she leaned herself towards the door. "You'll love her, I know you will."
"No no no," Rachel struggled. The other girl had an obvious height and weight advantage.
"You should probably stop before she breaks down the door," Brittany said after hearing the long continuous growl that reverberated from the other side.
"Break down the door? See. No. I'm taking you, now!"
"But I can't just leave her locked in-"
"Brittany, NO!" the brunette yelled, fed up with the girl's lack of safety and concern. "That is some kind of mutated animal in there with the brute strength to kill you. She may have not harmed you yet, but there's no telling how stable that creature is!"
There was a loud roar that rippled through the house followed by the cat slamming its body into the shut door. The walls rattled, sending a few family portraits crashing to the floor. Brittany's door swung open and was left dangling on one hinge as it swayed dangerously. Still, those details were minor compared to the ferocious looking feline that now crouched in the unobstructed doorway. The fiery gray eyes were narrowed and focused in on the small brunette cowering against the wall.
"Ugh my mom is going to kill me," Brittany groaned as she looked at the door, almost forgetting about the livid animal and petrified diva.
"Oh my gaahhh!" Rachel screamed as the creature across from her stared her down. It was crouched on all fours, readying itself for the attack. It was all black, with fur that put her in the mind of silk. If it wasn't trying to kill her right now, she would undeniably be admiring the sable coat for its unmatched beauty and shine. Despite its lowered position, she could tell it was huge, definitely not a house cat. If the size didn't disprove that, the protruding fangs that were now on full display, accompanied by the feral growl, definitely left no room for doubt. Brittany, bless her sweet soul, wasn't housing a cat. No, this was a fucking wild animal.
"Sweet Barbra this is it. I'm dead. Before my first Broadway performance. Cruel cruel destiny…" Brittany's thoughts of a pissed off mom were interrupted by Rachel's pleading and rambling. She calmly walked over to Rachel and shook her head.
"See, now you've made her angry." She turned around to make towards the feline but again was pulled back sharply.
"Brittany, no!" the singer yelled, tightening her grip. Did she not see how angry that thing looked?
The black beast allowed a growl to erupt before lunging at Rachel, who in turn screamed and waited for the teeth and claws to maul her alive. After a few seconds of clenched eyes and no pain, she squinted one open to peer out at death. What she saw left her breathless, and utterly confused.
Brittany had knelt down in front of the animal and had her hands lovingly cupping its face. She cooed something that Rachel couldn't quite make out, which resulted in a giant pink tongue lapping at her cheek. It had the potential to be endearing, but Rachel was still trying to recover from almost being eaten alive, so excuse her for not appreciating the moment.
"W-what?" Was all the brunette could get out. She had so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted to ask. Like, why the hell did Brittany have a fucking Jaguar in her room (Although, knowing Brittany as she did, that wasn't completely unbelievable. It was more so, how could her parents allow such behavior)? How did she not die, because she was sure that the animal was about to obliterate her? And basically, what the fuck?
"See," Brittany giggled, trying to stand up but being pulled back down when the animal tugged at her shirt. "Total sweetheart."
"Who just tried to eat my face," Rachel replied under her breath, wanting to stand up (when had she fallen? Oh, probably when that beast lunged at her), but still afraid to move.
The giant cat seemed to look at the singer and if she wasn't so dazed right now, she would've sworn the animal was smirking at her.
"No she didn't," Brittany chuckled. Rachel gave her a disbelieving look so Brittany tried again. "Okay, so maybe she did." That answer wasn't much better as the brunette stared at her horrified. "But, she didn't. She's really protective, and yea, you grabbing me and stuff, not gonna fly around her."
"But I was trying to protect you!" Rachel all but yelled as she jumped up, causing a low growl to be heard.
"Shh, easy San, easy." The cat (fucking panther) seemed to calm down instantly at the soothing words, but still refused to take her fiery eyes off of the diva.
"Um, Brittany," Rachel started with feigned calmness, "I'm not sure you're aware of this or not, but that isn't exactly a cat. Or, house cat rather." She knew her friend wasn't the brightest and probably genuinely believed that it was. She had to approach the conversation delicately.
"Oh, I know," Brittany replied bubbly, as she was now sitting down with the animal's head resting lazily in her lap. "I never said it was a house cat."
Again, the moment had potential to be awe-inspiring, because seriously, who can say they cuddled with a jaguar? But those distrusting silver eyes had yet to leave her small frame.
"You do?" Rachel finally asked, looking away from the sable coat.
"Yes."
"Okay…" Now what? "Well, in case you weren't aware, it isn't exactly safe, or legal for that matter, to try and domesticate wild animals." If that thing growls at me one more time, Rachel thought to herself as the small rumble reached her ears.
"She isn't wild," Brittany said bringing her own head down over the cat's so they were cheek to cheek. "Look at her."
Rachel looked, and for once, the gray eyes weren't trained on her like she was prey. They were looking up adoringly into icy blue ones that were smiling back down at her. When they weren't narrowed into slits, the cat's eyes were nothing short of hypnotic. The luring shade of gray just seemed to pull you in until you drowned in them, like the vast ocean. Calming, deep, but deadly.
She quickly shook her head of the thoughts. This wasn't an adorable puppy. This was a wild animal. Her friend was cradling a wild animal that could claw her in half whenever it felt like it.
"Brittany," she started, voice more serious as she knew she really did need to convince the blond of how dangerous and absurd the whole situation was.
"Rachel, look. I know I may not be the brightest," the singer frowned. Despite thinking it herself, she didn't like when her friend said it aloud, "but I know feelings. And with her, I'm safe. And now, you will be too." If the brunette was buying the blonde's words, she definitely lost the sell with that last line. That thing just tried to kill her, what do you mean she was safe too?
"Just forget about that part and trust me, okay?" The blonde said, as if reading her mind, tone taking a sudden somber approach, which was rare for the bouncy girl.
Rachel painfully bit her lip and then nodded slowly. She was still skeptical, and partly convinced that this was a dream, but she nodded anyway. Brittany's smile lit up her face, and it almost made risking another mauling worth it, almost.
The dancer waved her over and very reluctantly, the diva made her way to the pair. The cat purred as Brittany stroked behind her ears. The gray eyes watched Rachel's every move as she inched closer and closer.
"Now what?" she asked when she was standing in front of them.
"Pet her."
"Just like…pet her?" Rachel asked, nose scrunched in confusion and doubt.
"Mmhmm, just like this," the blond said, scratching behind the neck softly and swiftly.
Rachel exhaled a deep breath of air before kneeling beside the animal. She was reaching her arm out to stroke the silky fur when Brittany's pale finger gripped her wrist.
"No wait!"
"What? What?" Rachel asked, panicked, prepared to die, yet again.
"I need to introduce you guys. And you need to show your submission."
"My what?" Rachel asked, starting to stand back up.
"No, stay down," Brittany said as she pulled Rachel back down by her wrist. "And your submission. She's kind of like an alpha. So unless you show her your submission, she'll think you're wanting to challenge her for dominancy, or worse, zone in on what's hers."
The singer fought the urge to roll her eyes and Brittany could tell she didn't quite believe her. "Fine. If you want to challenge her then…"
"No," the brunette rushed out. "I'll submit. Just, what do I have to do?"
"Easy. Just, bow your head. It means more if you're kneeling when you do it."
Rachel perked her eyebrow, curious as to how and why Brittany knew all of this, but she didn't question it. She just continued facing the creature and bowed her head. When she brought her eyes back up, the piercing gray ones were still staring intently at her as if nothing had changed. Maybe she did it wrong? She was about to bow again when Brittany snatched her chin up.
"No, stop!"
"Ouch, Brittany, what are you doing?"
"Don't bow again!" she looked frantic and that was freaking the brunette out. If Brittany was edgy, she probably should be too.
"What? Why?"
"Because a second bow means you want to consummate with her."
Rachel's jaw practically unhinged as a horrified expression crossed her features. Okay now really, how in the hell did Brittany know that? In fact, never mind, forget she asked. She just nodded, mouth still open, before remembering the job at hand: petting the beast.
She again extended her fingers towards the animal's back, trying to hide the tremble. She looked at the blond, seeking encouragement, who in turn nodded and smiled even bigger as she held her breath in anticipation. After what felt like forever, small hands had finally reached the midnight coat. The fur was unexpectedly soft and cool to the touch. Her ministrations were feathery light at first, but the more comfortable she grew, the more confident her strokes became. She wouldn't go so far as to say she'd willingly be alone in a room with the cat, but she did feel much better about the animal just that fast. Her fingers left a warm trail from the feline's mid-back, up to her left ear. A soft purr made itself known, causing tanned fingers to still and the blond to giggle.
"What was that?" Rachel asked, afraid to start back her petting although strangely really wanting too.
"That means she liked it," the other girl smiled.
The brunette smiled too, relieved to finally be eliciting something other than a growl from the animal.
"That's a good girl," Brittany cooed as she brought her face to the animal's ears. Rachel couldn't help but giggle at the dancer's actions. Leave it to the blonde to treat this wild creature like a family dog.
"So," the brunette started after a few minutes, "did I hear you call her San?"
"Huh? Oh. Uh, yes! That's her name. San..."
"San," Rachel repeated to herself as she mulled it over. Isn't that what she calls Santana? Definitely. And no, it's not unusual at all, cough, to name your pet after your friend (or whatever the hell the two girls were). But at the same time, this is Brittany we're talking about, so no, it really isn't unusual.
"That's um, cute. Quite interesting for a pet name. But then again…" she trailed as she looked down at the animal, "this is quite an interesting pet. So I suppose it is highly fitting." The brunette looked down at the cat when it made a strange sound. It reminded her of a small laugh, but of course, that was absurd. Rachel spent the next few hours with Brittany and the cat? Jaguar? Animal? San. With Brittany and San. The cat was slowly, very very slowly, warming up to the girl, but so long as she wasn't trying to rip her throat out, she was okay with that.
She ended up going home that night without getting any dancing done. It's crazy how distracting a panther tended to be. She declined a ride home, needing the fresh air and walk to clear her head; she still wasn't entirely convinced this wasn't a dream.
