AN: This one-shot has been on my mind for a while now, so let me know what you think :D
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee, if I did I'd employ Fanfic writers to write every episode (from the Brittana fandom, of course =D)
And there she is.
The sheer perfection that I have the luck to see every week.
Words cannot describe her beauty, but you know what; I'm going to try anyway.
Long blonde hair that curls slightly as it trails down her back.
Piercing blue eyes that I could just fall into.
Toned, tanned legs that stretch down and down and down.
Brittany S Pierce.
Doesn't she sound perfect?
She is, believe me.
What she isn't, however, is my girlfriend.
I haven't even talked to her properly.
In fact, the only sounds she has ever heard from my mouth are, 'ugh', 'higher', 'right there' and 'harder'.
And not in the kinky way; she's my masseuse.
Santana Lopez is an orthopaedic surgeon, and a pretty damn good one at that.
She adores her job, and the pay isn't bad either.
The one downside is the stress she is put under every day, and when she asked her best friend's Quinn Fabray and Sam Evans – both also surgeons – they told her she should do something every week, where she could wind down and relax; take her mind off her job.
She searched around, found a local spa that had recently opened, and immediately signed herself up for a weekly massage.
It was there that she met Brittany S Pierce, the masseuse for her sessions.
She had bounced up, told her to take her top off, blushed, stammered something about not meaning it sexually and then piping up, 'your boobs are totally awesome though'.
It was love at first sight for the brunette and from then on, she's been desperately struggling for ways to speak to the blonde without making a total dork out of herself.
This brings us to today, seven months since the first session, and Santana smiles as she walks through the front doors, striding up to the front desk where the loud mouth brunette receptionist – Rachel Berry - greeted her with a blinding smile.
"Hello there Santana! Brittany is just getting the room ready; she'll be out in a moment!" Rachel shouts at the surgeon, who manages to keep her smile before backing away slowly, as if retreating from a wild animal.
'Okay Santana, you can do this, just ask her out! It's not like it'd be the end of the world if she says no... Shit. What if she says no? I can't do this. It's silly, I'll-I'll do it next time... NO! You can't back down-'
Santana is broken out of her inner monologue as the door opposite her opens, and utter perfection steps out, in a pair of sinfully short black shorts, suspenders, and a cute striped T-Shirt with a heart on it.
According to Rachel, the company tried to get her to wear regulation black pants and a loose black top, but Brittany was persistent and now wears what she likes.
Brittany leans back against the doorframe, and shoots a beaming smile at Santana,
"Well hello there Surgeon Lopez, long time no see eh?"
Santana – as usual – blushes before finally answering,
"Umm, I g-guess so, I mean i-it was only last week but-"
She stops when she notices the amused smile on the blonde.
"Oh. That was a joke wasn't it?"
Brittany bites her bottom lip mischievously and nods her head, and then giggles at the sheer adorableness of the surgeon.
"Yeah, it was, but I'll let ya off because that was cute. Ready?"
Brittany tilts her head towards the room behind her, grinning when Santana struggles to untangle her legs from where she crossed them under the chair.
Thankful for her somewhat darker skin tone hiding her blush – she hopes – Santana manages to manoeuvre herself through the door without banging into the doorframe or tripping over something like her own feet - or air.
She walks into the darkened room, shutting the door behind her, automatically reaching for the hem of her shirt and tugging it swiftly over her head.
Brittany turns around from arranging the oils,
"So, saved any lives lately Lopez?"
Santana chuckles softly as she folds her shirt and places it neatly on a nearby chair. Though Brittany knows her name, she finds it endlessly amusing to call her by Surgeon Lopez, Lopez, or even 'oh talented One'.
"Maybe a few, you know how I do." Santana surprises herself by managing to reply to Brittany coherently.
Not only replying, but flirting with her.
'Maybe it's because I'm not looking at her...'
Brittany giggles cutely, before straightening out the creases on the towel lying on the table.
"Oh really?" Brittany questions coyly, patting the table as Santana turns around.
"Y-yeah, really..."
'And I'm back; I knew the whole 'Speaking normally' thing wouldn't last'
Choosing to stay silent instead of embarrassing herself further, Santana shuffles over to the table and lies face down, unclasping her bra and sliding it off without revealing herself to the masseuse.
She misses the way that Brittany's eyes roam hungrily over the expanse of caramel skin in front of her, subconsciously licking her lips as she does.
Santana hears Brittany clear her throat, before strong hands with long fingers are placed on her back, in between her shoulder blades.
"Just relax..."
Santana sighs as soft hands glide over her skin, pressing firmly on her knots and muscles, lulling her off to a gentle sleep.
"Surgeon Lopez? The session is over, and Rachel told me I need to wake me up. Even though I didn't want to, 'cos you looked so peaceful and-"
Brittany's rambling is cut off by a grunt from the woman on the table.
Brown eyes fluttering open, they lock onto the blue eyes mere inches from Santana's face.
Barely awake, Santana manages to muster up the courage to say the words she has been putting off saying for months.
"Would you - ahem"Santana clears her suddenly thick throat, "would you like to, umm, you know... maybe – go out with me sometime? On like, umm, a-a date type thing?"
'You smooth fucker Lopez, she must be falling at your knees after that sentence...'
She warily looks up at Brittany's flushed face, and-
'Wait, is she blushing?'
The blonde smiles bashfully at the floor, for once lacking the confidence she usually wears so well.
"I would love to Surgeon Lopez- wait, I mean Santana- wait..."
Santana, grinning up at her, cuts in,
"You can call me Santana."
Santana practically skips to the hospital canteen the next day, peering around the room to find Sam and Quinn.
She spots the two blondes in the far corner of the room, and weaves neatly in between the tables to reach them and sit down.
"Sup bitches!"
She grins at her friends as she sits down next to Sam and opposite Quinn.
Sam grunts in reply, the fries in his mouth rendering him unable to speak.
Quinn raises a single eyebrow, "Where's the body and do I need to dig the hole?"
Santana scrunches her eyebrows in confusion, before stealing one of Sam's fries from his tray.
"The fuck are you talking about Fabray?" Santana asks Quinn, popping the stolen fry in her mouth and chewing noisily.
"You look freakishly happy, which is only ever achieved after you've caused some level of bodily harm to someone you hate." Quinn explains.
"You are the comedienne of the year aren't you Quinnie?" Santana drawls sarcastically, before continuing, "Can't I just be happy for once?"
"Well you can, but it doesn't happen. So why-"
The interrogation is cut short when the brunette's phone buzzes, signalling a new message.
Santana unlocks the phone, and reads the message, a goofy smile rising to her lips as she types a reply.
Quinn locks eyes with Sam – who is still messily eating his food- and nods at him
Sam snatches the phone out of Santana's grasp, quick enough that the phone isn't re-locked, and he is able to read the message out loud,
"It says 'I can't wait for Friday either! You're gonna love the surprise I've got set up for our date ;B' So, you've got a date huh? I'm glad it isn't on Saturday 'cos the new Call of Duty comes out then and I need my game buddy. "
Santana finally manages to free herself from Quinn's arms, where she had been held hostage for the past minute.
She lunges and grabs her phone out of Sam's hands, sitting down and checking from a reply from Brittany before stuffing it back into her pocket.
Quinn is looking at her with a grin on her face, "Awww, our little Sanny is growing up! A date! I'm so proud!"
She places her hand to her chest, sighing happily.
Santana glares at Quinn, swiftly moving her cutting gaze to Sam, who had been attempting to muffle his giggles through yet more fries.
"I hate you both." Santana remarks, before standing and exiting the canteen.
Sam finally manages to calm down, before turning to Quinn and asking,
"But what does ;B even mean? It's like a pervy walrus, or someone with – like – boobs on their face or something."
The blonde gives him a calculating look, and seems to be questioning his mental health before remarking,
"Sometimes I wonder why I'm even friends with you two morons."
Sam smiles, his mouth stretching into a massive grin, because he knows that is as close to a compliment that they'll get from Quinn.
Sam stands wide eyed as he watches the various skirts, dresses, leggings, shirts and the occasional heel fly out of Santana's walk in closet at high speed.
Quinn stumbles out of the closet, hair wild and eyes flitting around the room, as if searching for an escape route.
They both flinch in unison as they hear an unearthly scream from inside the closet.
"WHY? Why did you incompetent cretins not tell me that I have fuck all to wear to this date?" Santana's cries of fury echo through the room, prompting both Sam and Quinn to back away even further, pressing themselves to the opposite wall.
Santana finally emerges, clad in only her underwear, looking ready to charge at them and use the stiletto in her hand as a murder weapon.
Sam – ever the gentleman – goes to stand in front of Quinn, before Santana releases yet another battle screech, and he instead hides behind the blonde woman.
Quinn decides that enough is enough.
She strides forward and slaps Santana firmly across the face, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to snap the brunette out of her blind panic.
The startled woman blinks in surprise, and then grins,
"Thanks Q; needed that."
Quinn nods in reply, and then looks around the devastation that is Santana's bedroom.
"Okaaaay, sit down, and I'll try to find something that doesn't scream axe murderer or prostitute."
Santana sits down on the bed, "Thanks Quinn, I- wait, axe murderer or prostitute? Bitch."
Quinn gives her a wink, "You know it" and begins to rifle through the piles of clothing nearest to her.
Sam coughs awkwardly, looking everywhere but at the half naked Santana,
"Can I – like – leave now? 'Cos, you're like, in your underwear, and, ummm-"
His skin flushes red against his blonde hair.
Sam may be Santana's official lesbro; but he isn't blind, and knows that she is smoking hot.
Santana takes pity on him,
"Leave Sammy, we'll survive without you for now."
Sam flashes her a grateful smile before exiting the room, shutting the door behind him with a bang.
Santana snaps her attention back to Quinn, who throws a pair of white skinny jeans at her, followed by a black sleeveless top and a black jacket.
"Put those on." Quinn orders flatly, and then resumes searching through the clothes.
Santana pulls on the jeans, looking sceptically at her friend as she eyes the other two garments,
"Are you sure-"
Quinn shoots her a look that could silence Rachel Berry, and so Santana pulls on the rest of the clothes.
Just as she finishes adjusting the jacket, Santana sees a blur approaching her through the air, and manages to dodge just in time.
Quinn is stood in front of her, smirking wickedly and handing her the other high heel.
Santana huffs, but takes the shoe,
"Bitch."
"Haven't we had this conversation already?"
Over at Brittany's apartment, the girl is in a similar state of panic.
"PUCK! RACHEL! Help me! I don't know what to wear! She's a surgeon and has a lot of money and I make enough but I don't have anything designer or posh and she's going to think I'm some sort of tramp!"
Brittany and Rachel had become fast friends after meeting at the spa, and so she had dragged Rachel over to the apartment for help.
Puck has been friends with Brittany for most of her life, and though he has hit on her several times in the past, he finally got the idea that she wasn't interested, and he settled down to become the protective older brother.
Just because he is like a brother, doesn't mean he doesn't make inappropriate comments at the worst of times.
Like now, for example,
"Babe, she won't care what you're wearing when it's on the floor and she's knuckle deep inside-"
Rachel walks in the room just on time to slap him on the back of his head, cutting him off.
Fortunately for him, she doesn't see the hip thrust he doesn't into the air once her back is turned, resulting in the blonde turning fire-engine red.
"Noah, leave now, that isn't appropriate."
Puck seems astonished that Rachel knew what he did, and silently walks out of the room.
"Now Miss Brittany-"Rachel turns to the girl, "-let's get you dressed."
Pulling up at the apartment complex, Santana double checks the address that Brittany texted her.
Satisfied that she is in the right place, she allows herself to relax for a moment, not wanting to enter the building just yet as she is early, and doesn't want to seem too eager.
But she is.
Eager, that is.
So eager, in fact, that she traded her $100 gift card for the local comic-book store with Sam, in return for his Shelby Cobra, which she hopes, will get her extra points with Brittany.
'Speaking of Brittany...'
Santana hops out of the car and approaches the complex.
Brittany told her to wait for her in the lobby of the building, and so she leans against one of the pillars, her tapping foot the only indication of her growing nerves.
The elevator dings, and out steps the object of Santana's affections for the past 7 months.
Dressed in purple leggings, white converse and an off-the-shoulder black and white top that hangs perfectly on her frame.
Brittany beams when she notices Santana leant on the nearby pillar, and immediately receives a shy smile in return.
"Hey" Brittany greets, bounding up to Santana, "You told me to dress casual, so, I figured this was okay... it is, isn't it? 'Cos I can just go back and change if-"
"You're perfect, trust me." Santana cuts in.
'That sentence was actually coherent, nice job!'
They reach the car, and Santana opens the passenger door for Brittany, before jogging back around the car to jump in the driver's seat.
This is the part that Santana is nervous about.
"I'm gonna need you to trust me for a second..."
Brittany turns to her, looking confused but happy.
"Okay?"
Santana produces a blindfold from the pockets of her jacket, and ties it around Brittany's eyes.
Brittany giggles,
"I think we're too early in our relationship for kinks San."
Santana is thankful that Brittany can't see her, because she is pretty sure the look on her face is comical, and the very opposite of sexy.
She manages to produce a half-hearted chuckle from somewhere, and without further comment starts the engine.
After pulling out onto the main road, Brittany speaks up yet again,
"Can we play I-Spy San?"
Santana almost says yes, until she realizes that Brittany would struggle to play that particular car game.
From the impish grin on her face, Brittany has been waiting for her to come to the realization for some time.
Shaking her head and laughing, she concentrates on driving them to their date.
Pulling up at the building, Santana cuts the engine and leans over the remove Brittany's blind fold.
Her date had tried countless times throughout the journey to guess where they were going, ranging from normal,
"Is it a restaurant?"
To the not so normal,
"Please don't kill me. Or have you killed someone and want me to help hide the body?"
Santana doesn't know why people seem to think that she is a murderer, but it's cute when Brittany does it, so she lets her off the hook.
'Do I have the face of a murderer?'
She discreetly inspects herself in the rear-view mirror of the car before pulling the blindfold off Brittany's eyes.
The girl blinks rapidly and squints as her eyes adjust to the light of the late afternoon sun.
Once she can see, however, she immediately recognizes her surroundings,
"Why are we at the spa? Are you gonna make me give you a massage?"
Santana gives her a questioning look,
"That wouldn't be a very fun date, would it?... Well, it would be for me, but it'd be like work for you... anyway, no, that's not going to happen."
Brittany nods, though still confused as to why they are here.
"Come with me." Santana exits the car and opens the passenger door for Brittany, who shuts the door and then follows the brunette into the building.
They walk to the familiar door, which Santana pushes open, standing back and allowing Brittany to peer inside.
"Oh my- San, you did all this for me?"
Santana blushes at the pet name – as she always does – and then nods, smiling hopefully at Brittany.
The room had been decorated with candles and flowers, the lighting dimmed all the way down so that the pair could see the flickering of the flames as shadows on the walls.
A tray has been placed in the middle of the table in the room, and on it sits a bowl full of fruit, and next to it a second bowl of melted chocolate.
Santana gestures to Brittany to sit down on the table, which she covered with a white table cloth, to ensure the chocolate doesn't spill onto the fabric.
"I figured we could eat some of this, and then- ummm- I could give you a massage? Not – like – sexually, of course-"
Brittany raises an eyebrow,
"-not that it would be a bad thing! To be close to you - umm – sexually... but-"
The blonde giggles as Santana digs the hole deeper and deeper.
"Santana! It sounds great. But face it; you just wanted an excuse to get your hands all up on this sexy body."
Brittany winks seductively.
Santana feels faint all of a sudden, and sits down on the table, next to the bowl.
Brittany sits down on the opposite side of the dish, and picks a strawberry from the bowl, dipping it in chocolate and biting into it.
Santana's eyes widen as she watches juice dribble down the girls chin, only to be wiped up by a long, long tongue which-
She's actually pretty sure she blacked out for a second there.
Trying to regain control of the date, she picks a piece of melon and places it in her mouth, swallowing before asking,
"So why are you a masseuse? It's just; we normally talk about me during our sessions, so you know quite a bit already. I thought we could level the playing field a little."
Brittany grins at her, finishing the piece of fruit in her mouth before answering,
"I'm actually a dancer, and I teach a small class in a local studio every night. But there isn't much work going for a dancer at the minute, so I needed something to pay the bills. I know a lot about how the body moves and works because of dancing, so this came pretty easily to me."
Brittany shrugs matter-of-factly, popping another strawberry into her mouth.
Santana discreetly – she hopes – runs her eyes over the girl's body.
'Definitely toned enough to be a dancer... so she doesn't just have talented fingers, but she is flexible as well – when did this become so sexual?'
Santana clears her throat, "That's great Britt; I bet you're a brilliant teacher!"
Brittany smiles shyly, looking down at the floor, "I don't know really, I only handle the little kids and some teenagers."
Santana places a finger under Brittany's chin and pulls her face so she can see her, "Could you teach me sometime?"
"Sure" Brittany smiles, eyes sparkling as Santana feeds her a piece of fruit.
Clearing her throat, Santana looks down at the now empty bowl and places it on the seat in the corner of the room.
"So, I think it's time you took your shirt off..."Santana says lowly, smirking at how flustered Brittany becomes.
Brittany, meanwhile, is having flashbacks of Puck's words from earlier, and images assault her mind as a result.
Santana is now looking at her curiously, smiling slightly as she taps Brittany on the shoulder twice; bringing her back to reality.
"If you're okay with it, of course. I mean, you agreed earlier but-"Santana is now worried that her joke has been taken too seriously, but her fears are eased as Brittany tugs her top over her head, throwing it haphazardly on the floor.
Santana's mind has shut down, and one word is echoing through it,
'Abs, abs, abs, abs... abs, abs, sweet abs...'
She doesn't realise that she is mouthing the word until she notices Brittany giggling at her.
Clearing her throat yet again, she tells Brittany to lie face down on the table.
Obeying, the blonde lies down, taking off her bra soon afterwards.
"So I didn't know the first thing about giving a massage and the muscles and tension and stuff. But I did a little research, and I hope it's okay. If it isn't – ummm - after I've finished dying of embarrassment you can tell me, and it won't be done ever again."
Brittany lets out a muffled laugh against the table at the obvious nerves in Santana's voice.
She sees tanned arms take a bottle of oil from the side and hears the cap being removed.
After a short pause, she feels tentative fingers pushing on her back, working the muscles in smooth circles.
Santana is struggling to keep herself in check as she glides her hands over the perfectly toned back of the blonde, watching as the oil makes her skin glow and glisten in the candlelight.
She remembers reading about a certain place where it is common for knots to form, and she uses her knuckles to gently knead the muscle into loosening.
Brittany releases a soft groan.
Santana pauses briefly, but continues to rub the same spot, obviously having found a knot.
She moves her other hand and rubs gently just between Brittany's shoulder blades, gliding softly up and down the blonde's exposed spine.
This time, Brittany moans.
Santana freezes.
"Umm, is this okay? Do you want me to stop?"
Brittany doesn't respond, all Santana can hear from the girl is heavy panting.
She lowers her face towards Brittany's, peering at her to see if she is okay.
She isn't prepared for the ambush that is sprung on her.
"Mmmph-"
Brittany lunges forwards and catches Santana's lips with her own, pulling her full bottom lip into her mouth and softly sucking on it, making Santana groan slightly.
They continue to kiss, Santana bringing oily hands up to gently hold Brittany's face to her, cradling her cheek in her palm.
Pulling away, both women gasp a little, and slowly open their eyes.
It is silent for a few seconds.
Santana breaks the calm first,
"So does that mean that I didn't suck at the massage thing? Or am I reading the signals wrong?"
Brittany rolls her eyes, but as she is about to reply, both women realize that during the kiss, the blonde had turned slightly and sat up, revealing her chest to the world.
The world being Santana.
Who is currently stammering and looking everywhere but at Brittany.
"I – ugh you – you're boobs are umm – yeah. Shirt? I'll get your shirt. Where – umm – wow this went well."
Brittany laughs at Santana's nervous rambling, and catches her shirt which is thrown to her by the brunette.
She pulls it on, and smiles sweetly at Santana, who is slowly calming down.
"You most definitely didn't suck at the massage thing, it was great, and the whole date was great! Then again, I figure you had a lot of time to plan it out, I was beginning to think that you didn't like me at all-"
'Hold the fuck up...'
"Wait-"Santana cuts in, "-you knew that I liked you?"
"Ummm, yeah. It was kinda obvious."Brittany admits with a grin.
"And you didn't say anything?"Santana asks; now thinking of the countless times that Brittany could have caught her staring.
The blonde shrugs, "More fun this way, I wanted to be wooed, and I was."
Santana feels her confidence come back, "Well, you know, some things just come naturally I guess."
Brittany begins to laugh, "Yep, you were especially charming just now when you developed a stutter after seeing me topless."
Santana sighs.
'Never gonna live that down.'
AN: Didn't know how to end it, and I don't know how good it is, some of it flowed and some of it didn't. Please point out mistakes that you find :D