Ship: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17/M
Summary: There's a new girl at the Lima Bean. Santana Lopez notices her soon, so much that it gets Sebastian Smythe's attention. So they bet: if Santana is really indifferent to this girl, she has got ten days to sleep with her.
A/N: Hi there! Just another story! I've already written several chapter for this and I can't wait to translate them for you – hopefully going to update twice in seven days if I can, because I'm going on a holiday then. Not very much to say besides I hope you enjoy and leave me a comment to tell me if it sucks or not! Bye 3 - xoxo
Beta: Haiti2013.
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Prologue
Not only did the place smells like home for her but it's the place where she spends most of her time lovingly insulting those who, theoretically, are supposed to be her best friends.
It's stronger than her: Santana Lopez isn't made for sappiness and she's never going to be.
She is never going to apologize to Sebastian for everything they throw at each other when they fight, nor she's going to hug Kurt or Quinn, whispering words of affection. But one thing is sure: she really loves those crazy idiots.
Above all, she has no idea what she would do to occupy her days without them and this table (she probably would have spent her life muttering insults in Spanish on the sidewalks of Lima Heights, the filthy neighborhood where she has spent her childhood and where she still lives) . They're a bit like a drug: she knows they're dangerous to her mental health, but she can't help it.
And she is right here with them having their typical when it happens: it starts as a relatively stupid game, especially since Santana doesn't know it's going to change her life.
They are sitting at the usual table at the Lima Bean, laughing, joking and talking about silly things, rather than studying (which, in fact, is the excuse they use almost every day to meet).
In short, it's a usual day.
"We didn't even have plans for this weekend ..." Quinn sighs, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and resting her chin on one hand.
"It's Monday, Quinn." Kurt mutters, stretching his elbow to hit his boyfriend, who is dangerously leaning towards his neck. "We've got all week to make plans."
"You-don't-understand!"
These three words coming out of Quinn's mouth represent the point in which Santana starts losing her interest in the discussion: it's quite clear that Quinn is still drunk from last night and she's hopelessly trying to sober up the whole weekend.
Not that she despises her for having too much alcohol - she did the same too -, simply she doesn't want to appease a drunk Quinn, since she easily loses her temper when she's fucked up.
She drops her eyes on the book in front of her; her eyes focus on the history notes regarding the Revolution, but she can't really focus on it: she hasn't been drinking excessively over the weekend but still feels tired and nervous, so much that she has to re-read the same sentence four times before it starts to make any sense in her head.
"I need another coffee ..." She moans, attracting the eyes of the trio on herself.
"Are you okay, Santana?" Kurt asks, blinking as to analyze her (Kurt is the most thoughtful person in the group and he's always worried about everything and everyone).
Sebastian, beside him, giggles.
"Yeah, Carmen San Diego: If you get bags under your eyes, even that your plastic boobs won't distract people from your little face, prematurely consumed from the night life."
Sebastian gets another hit from Kurt and, if she had the strength to, Santana would stretch to slap Quinn who is laughing heartily.
"Stop it." She mumbles, taking a look around: she is looking for a waiter, or someone who can bring her damn coffee to her, because she doesn't have the strength to stand up and reach the counter.
"You look bad, really." Kurt insists, while Quinn nods with her eyebrows lifted (she probably doesn't understand anything going on). "I wouldn't want to call an ambulance."
Santana immediately shakes her head: she's from Lima Heights, she can surely handle some tiredness.
She doesn't give up at the first attempt and, resting her head on her arm, she begins to snap her fingers in the air: she has a physical need of coffee and has no intention of giving up on it.
Her fingers snap continuously and stop only when she hears footsteps getting closer.
When that unknown body stands beside her, Santana doesn't even look up before she's speaking.
"Por favor, can I have a coffee?" She asks, relaxing her temples against her arm resting on the table (if she thinks about it, in fact, it probably isn't a good show for anybody who is looking at her).
"What can I get you?"
This voice, however, manages to get her attention, just when Santana is thinking she could keep her head resting on the table forever: it's a female voice, not too sharp, indeed, there is a depth in that tone, something low and warm, but that seems also strangely pleasant and not at all intrusive.
She doesn't even manage to wonder if it's possible to resist the temptation to check who might own a voice like that; she is already raising her gaze.
She doesn't realize now how much this misstep can be fatal, but she understands, however, that there is something wrong.
She knows it since the moment she realizes that she has stopped breathing, lost in contemplation of this wonderful hypnotic blue she's staring into.
The girl in front of her - an angel descended on earth, certainly - is smiling spontaneously and sweetly (one of those smiles that are able to warm you deep down in your soul). She wishes she has the right words to comment on this vision within her head, but the truth is that, as she runs with her eyes that smooth blond hair, Santana Lopez has forgotten any existing word, in both English and Spanish.
She has lost the ability to speak momentarily, which becomes a problem because the angel is still waiting for her order which, however, is slow to come.
"I know you!" Quinn's shrill voice makes her jump, she's awakened from the spell against her will (it's a strangely pleasant vision, so she sort of hate the interruption?).
She turns for a few seconds towards Quinn, beginning to fear that alcohol would make her say something terribly stupid.
"Then you must have hit something with your face because I don't really remember you..."
The words uttered by this girl would usually sound extremely unpleasant and annoying, but there's something sweet and innocent in her voice that makes them sound kind instead.
Santana is still trying to understand if she is serious or not, when her eyes begin to wander over her body.
"You're Brittany Pierce," Quinn says while Santana's eyes stop on a soft scarf wrapped around her probably pale neck, too easy to mark and on which signs remain for days, "the cheerleader who didn't wear panties at Nationals!"
Santana instinctively swallows as her eyes trace the shape of the girl's chest covered by a tight white t-shirt and the Lima Bean apron.
"I couldn't pick out which to use to celebrate," Brittany shrugs – Santana has already learned her name – way too serious for the explanation she's giving, "So I thought that choosing might have created some sort of conflict into my drawer and … I don't want it to happen. I love all my panties equally."
Santana really wants to focus on whatever she's saying but her eyes are tracing those hips that perfectly fit the rest of her body …
"I'm waiting for your order …" Brittany gets her attention though, making her startle once again.
Of course.
The order.
Coffee.
"Simple with one spoon of sugar is going to be just fine." She whispers without even realize she's smirking.
Sebastian's fake cough though makes her shake her head, just in time to see Brittany Pierce walk away and disappear between the tables.
Something had just happened.
Santana can feel that it had: it had been a delicious encounter, and she's already drooling over the idea of this girl as her gaze goes down on her modeled ass right on the triumph of gorgeous long legs. This angel has just walked away as Santana's grin turns into a devilish smirk.
"Aww, look at her. The hottest bitch in Lima with heart eyes on." Sebastian jokes. "It seems like you've just seen a rainbow."
Santana's face doesn't shift, not even at these words, and not just because she's used to Sebastian's annoying joke, but also because her mind is still too focused on these muscled asscheeks walking by: she could paint them and she's sure it would be a masterpiece of those you stare at for hours without ever getting bored.
Not to mention the rest of her body.
"I didn't know she worked here." Quinn is talking again, looking apparently more sober, just because she can't really give up on some good gossip, can she? "I didn't even know she worked, actually …"
"What about high school?" Kurt asks, turning to Quinn as Sebastian and Santana roll their eyes, already knowing what's coming. When they want to, they can be such gossipers at times.
"Maybe she wasn't smart enough." Sebastian comments, unable to keep the ironic comment. "Why should she waste time on high school then?"
Santana immediately tighten her eyelids, throwing daggers at him with her eyes.
"She can't be stupid. If she is, well, congrats: she's got a job and we haven't." She complains, making Sebastian wince the word 'job'.
"You're already defending her?" He suggests, ironically. "When's the wedding, Mrs. Lopez-Pierce?"
"I'm never going to be Mrs. Someone," Santana says immediately, "So Kurt, would you mind throwing all those terrible wedding magazines you keep in your garage to choose my wedding dress? I'm never going to get married and, mainly, I won't let you choose my dress."
There are a few moments of silence at the table. Kurt's wrinkling his lips, offended, Quinn is enjoying the scene and Sebastian looks completely indifferent.
"And I'm not defending her." Santana eventually whines, relaxing against the back of the chair and crossing her arms under her breasts. "I've just said what I honestly think. If she were stupid, she wouldn't work here. She must be careful at her customers all the time, so she's clearly smart."
"Well,you aredefending here a little …" Quinn suggests and Santana would want to tell her that it's impossiblenotto defend an angel like that. But she doesn't reply: she's Santana Lopez, she doesn't defend, she doesn't court.
She's a hunter ready to eat her preys with no hesitation.
Santana Lopez hunts for sex and nothing more.
That's why she doesn't reply to Quinn the way she wanted to. She has a fame to keep up, even in the little daily affairs.
Just then she realizes that everything is silent around her. As she tries to understand why everybody is looking over her shoulders, a paper cup is put in front of her, right before her eyes.
Almost in slow motion, Santana studies the pale long fingers that carry it. Her brain is suddenly filled with nasty images of these fingers and she has to bite her lower lip as she pictures the fantasy.
Then her eyes run along the arm suspended beside her until she's looking at her face.
"Here's your coffee."
She finds herself staring at these light blue eyes again and she's not breathing anymore: it sounds crazy to her, but she's almost forgot this girl's gorgeous ass to focus on her innocent glare that warms her chest.
She shakes her head and tries not to think about it.
That's not who you are, Santana, she thinks to herself, You just have to focus on the target. Which target though?
She realizes that her mind is working faster than she actually is, already starting to give her order about what to do with Brittany: pursuing her.
Although when she comes back to reality, after that fast flash of thoughts, she realizes that Brittany isn't there anymore: she's gone without even giving Santana the chance to thank her – not that Santana wants to that her though, she really doesn't do it, not really. Before she can notice, she' already looking around, staring around the Lima Bean to find her ey-ass, her ass.
Sebastian hesitates for a moment than coughs again, getting the attention of Santana's eyes on him.
"What's wrong?" Santana asks nervously but when she notices that everybody at the table is looking at her, than she thinks she must have done something weird (if Quinn noticed it must be serious, since she is completely drunk).
"What's wrong?" Sebastian parrots her voice ironically, "Do you actually realize that even a stupid blonde chick working would notice the way you're searching for her gaze around here? So romantic …" He comments sarcastically as he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms to his chest.
"Sebastian, don't call her stupid." Quinn murmurs, wrinkling her lips and eyebrows. "That's not cute!"
"Oh c'mon." Santana replies immediately, throwing daggers at Sebastian with her eyes. "As if Sebastian knows how to act decently towards other human beings; And oh, Seb, since you clearly know how it works, you must have notice that I was staring at her ass. You probably didn't because you're gayer than Perez Hilton, but it was worth a look."
Sebastian doesn't look convinced at her words, so much he's still wearing a smirk on his lips, looking quite sure about himself.
"So … you weren't searching for a wonderful pair of blue eyes shining bright like the sky?" He asks, shrugging. "Because, just in case … I might know how it feels, if you wanted to talk about-"
"No way." Santana replies immediately, finally grabbing the cup in her hands. "I wasn't searching for some stupid eyes, I never did and I never will. Her eyes are seriously the last thing I'm interest into about a girl, even less if it's a girl like Brittany who has dumped high school to work here, who knows why."
"Maybe she's got familiar issues …" Kurt suggests but he gets ignored (whenever Sebastian and Santana fight, the rest of the world just disappears and they just go on for hours, neither of them wanting to admit the other might be right).
"So … just a fine ass?" Sebastian asks again, watching as Santana nods. "Hmm …" He thinks, turning for a few seconds to stare at Kurt sitting beside him (Santana really doesn't want to think that he's comparing Kurt to Brittany into his mind; only Sebastian could think of such a stupid thing). "Well, since it has nothing to do with her eyes, how about a bet?"
Santana lifts his eyebrow while Quinn and Kurt just look at each other in panic: whenever they bet, one of them gets seriously hurt.
"I'm listening." Santana answers, but it sounds suspiciously as I'm in already.
"Let's do this: you've got ten days to screw her." He says, wearing the smirk on his lips and Santana giggles smugly.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"Fine, Smythe. Get ready to lose another bet."
She can't even believe that Sebastian is so stupid to propose this: he should know how easy it gets to just hook up without any worry at all, especially with such a tempting prey as Brittany. It's the most stupid bet they've ever done, so much she can't even believe it. There must be something behind it, that's for sure.
"What if I don't?" Santana asks, lifting an eyebrow, but Sebastian shakes his head lightly.
"No problems." Sebastian sighs, as if he's bored with the question or the fact that Santana doesn't trust him. "That's it. Nothing on it."
"You're bluffing." Santana complains, tightening her eyelids and putting his coffee to his lips. "I'm not this stupid. That would be too easy for me."
"Prove it then." Sebastian says and Santana nods, starting to drink. Maybe he's sort of using reverse psychology to confuse her and make her doubt about herself.
"I will." She mutters, putting the cup on the table. "Ten days, Smythe. Ten days and she'll be mine."
Sebastian nods, acting like he agrees, while Santana is starting to explore the Lima Bean with her eyes again: she feels like she's hunting, she is ready to go and she knows that like every single time, she won't fail.
She's going to get her hands on Brittany Pierce.
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