Yellow tape blocked off the entrance to an alley behind a local favorite convenience store, marking the scene of the crime. Several police officers surrounded the perimeter to monitor the crowd of curious people who were swarming just outside the tape to see if they could catch a glimpse of the work of the city's most notorious killer.
Santana pushed her way past the mob, flashed her badge to an officer, and walked fifty feet to meet her partner, Noah Puckerman, who was standing next to where the body used to be.
"Finally."
"Sorry, Puck. I got...caught up."
"Well it doesn't matter. You're here now," he replied as he stepped to the side so Santana could get a good look at the scene in front of them. "The son of a bitch has done it again."
"Jesus," Santana muttered under her breath as she tried to piece together the latest attack. She took a minute to get a bearing on her surroundings as her partner debriefed her on what she missed due to her late arrival.
The victim was a man in his late 40's and an employee at the convenience store. The crime fit the description of many past City Sniper cases, so of course, Puck and Santana were called first since they were the lead detectives.
"Single gunshot fits the usual cause of death, there were no witnesses, and the signature note was found in the victim's pocket. It's number 15, Santana," Puck explained as he passed his partner a piece of bagged evidence.
Santana glanced down and sighed, confirming that the note was, in fact, in the Sniper's handwriting. The two then documented the scene by taking pictures, gathering other physical evidence, and interviewing those who worked at the store.
"It's escalating," Santana said to Puck after they finished talking to the storeowner.
"What makes you say that?"
"Think about it. There's usually at least a month, sometimes two, between shootings. The last one happened only a week ago. He's breaking pattern."
Puck rubbed his hand over his forehead in frustration and realized that Santana was right. The Sniper was followed a strict ritual for his attacks. His victims were mostly random, although some he had held grudges against for many years before he snapped. Each victim was about more than just the kill. First, they were stalked for some time before the Sniper would make his move.
Before shooting his victims, the Sniper somehow managed to slip a note onto his target during his time stalking. The notes became known as his signature as they were found on all 15 victims. Each message was written in the same format consisting of the number of the victim and a unique marking, which resembled a bullseye target, that quickly became known as his symbol. In the past, the notes had been found in purses, pockets, car dashboards and even office cabinets.
Puck's mind churned as he processed Santana's observation.
"Maybe he has an accomplice?"
"I guess we can't rule that out," Santana said with a shrug.
"What the fuck is he up to now?" Puck cursed as his fists clenched subconsciously. "Let's get back to the office and break this down."
...
The next morning, Santana arrived a bit late to Starbucks. When she got there, she found Brittany sitting at a table drinking her tea. It wasn't until after she had taken a few steps toward her that she realized there was an extra coffee on the table. Santana bit her lip to hold back her smile as she approached the blonde who was sitting toward the back of the shop.
"This seat taken?"
"Saved for you, as a matter of fact," Brittany said with a grin as Santana sat down. "I got you a coffee, too."
"Thanks, Brittany. You really didn't have to do that."
"I know, but I wanted to," Brittany said with a warm smile.
"Well, thanks."
"Of course. Is everything okay with work? I was a little worried after yesterday."
"Yeah, it's fine," Santana said after sipping her drink. She smiled to herself when she realized that Brittany had fixed her coffee just the way she liked with cream and sugar. "Just looks like it'll be busy this week."
"Oh, gotcha. What do you do at the station?"
"Umm, it's more or less a desk job. Lots of paperwork," Santana said casually, trying to be as brief as possible. Lying was not her strong suit, but she didn't want to have to get into the details of that part of her life just yet.
"Paperwork, huh? Well, that's good."
Santana's lips formed a weak smile and searched for a question to gracefully change the subject. "Yeah. So how were your classes yesterday?"
The girls talked back a forth for while, conversing easily. Santana caught herself laughing more than she had in a long time. Normal things that Brittany did seemed to be especially cute for some reason. Like the way she'd arrange the packets of sugar on the table by color. Or the way she'd run her fingers through her perfectly straight blonde hair.
It wasn't until Brittany glanced down at her watch to see that it was 9:20 that their discussion was cut short.
The blonde's eyes widened and she quickly gathered her things. "Oh crap, I gotta run, Santana. My first class starts in ten. I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.
"Sure, see you tomorrow, Britt."
...
"Why are you in such a good mood?" Mike questioned Brittany as she hummed away to the latest melody that was stuck in her head.
Brittany cocked her head and shot her best friend a look. "I'm not in a good mood."
"You are, too. You only hum when you're happy. And you're never happy when we work on balancing the budget," he replied as he nodded to the pile of papers stacked between them on the table.
"You're delusional," the blonde denied with a smirk.
...
Ever since Brittany had bought Santana coffee for the first time, the two had been meeting every morning at that same table for the last two weeks. They each started arriving a little bit earlier so they would have more time together before Brittany's first class started or Santana got called away to the station.
After only a week of morning tea and coffee dates, Brittany was pretty sure she had Santana figured out. Despite Santana's best efforts to hide it, Brittany could tell the girl was a master at deflecting personal questions. Brittany had a way of getting partial answers out of her, but she was also good at respecting boundaries and not pushing her luck.
Although she desperately wanted to meet Santana some place other than Starbucks, she kept her requests to a minimum. There had to be a reason for Santana's rejection, so for now, Brittany settled for her daily coffee with her crush.
…
One morning, Brittany couldn't contain her curiosity anymore. "Why do you keep turning me down?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean, San. We've been having coffee together for weeks now but you won't let me take you anywhere else."
"I know," Santana sighed, realizing this conversation was about to happen.
"So why?"
The brunette slowly shifted her eyes from her coffee to look up at the beautiful woman in front of her. "I'm not good for you," Santana said after a while.
"You think so?"
"I know so," she replied with a strong voice, struggling to maintain eye contact.
Brittany watched Santana and waited a few seconds before asking her next question. "And why's that?"
"I just am," she said, the confliction in her voice evident.
"Well, I disagree."
Santana finally peeled her eyes off her fingers, which were tangled together on the table. She looked at Brittany with soft eyes and wished for things to be different. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the right words to say.
So instead, Brittany smiled endearingly and asked a simple question.
"Then why do you keep meeting me here?"
"I just…I can't seem to stay away."
After that answer, Brittany decided that was enough questions for the day. She sipped her tea with great satisfaction at her new progress. Tomorrow was going to be the day she'd Santana to go out with her on a real date.
…
The dancer's nerves were to blame for her arriving thirty minutes earlier than usual the next morning. She grabbed a copy of the Chicago Tribune and started catching up on the city's latest news. The headline, "Sniper hits Sixteen," caught her attention and she started reading.
Each time someone entered the shop, the chimes on the front door sent Brittany's head popping up from the paper. Halfway through the article, the chimes rang and Brittany smiled to see Santana make an entrance.
"Casual Friday, huh?" Brittany asked, shamelessly admiring Santana who was wearing jeans and a leather jacket.
"Kind of," Santana replied with a bashful smile as she sat down. She wasn't one to normally get self-conscious, but Brittany seemed to have that effect on her. "I'm working from home today."
"Yeah? But you came here anyway?"
"Mhmm. It felt weird not to start my day off like this," Santana said honestly, which sent both of them smiling contagiously.
The two started talking more about their plans for the weekend, and Brittany felt a rush of confidence realizing that this was her opportunity to ask.
"Hey, would you like to get dinner tomorrow night?"
"Dinner?"
"Mhmm. I thought I'd up the ante. I know this awesome Italian place. And lunch and walks were lame, anyway," she joked, causing Santana to break out into laughter. The brunette sighed and tapped her fingers on the table, trying to think of another excuse.
"You know, I'm not going to stop asking," Brittany insisted.
Santana smirked and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm slowly getting that."
"So, what do you say?"
Santana racked her brain for an adequate response. Maybe she didn't have to say no. Maybe there was another, safer option. Potential plans came to mind and she carefully eliminated the ideas that obviously wouldn't work until she settled on one that seemed like she could pull off.
Brittany was very patient, and after a few moments, Santana responded. "Can I offer up an alternative?"
"By all means."
"Why don't you come over to my place? I'll make you dinner."
"Really?" Brittany's face lit up.
"Really, really," Santana echoed, smiling at the blonde's reaction.
"That sounds great, San."
"Awesome," Santana reached into her purse to find something to write her address on. At first she grabbed one of her business cards, but decided to use the napkin on the table instead. "Here's my address and my cell number. You can come over around 7."
"Sounds good," Brittany replied with an almost blinding smile.
After Santana put her pen away, she glanced at her phone to see she had received a text from Puck.
Where the hell are you? I think I might be on to something here. And don't forget my coffee, Lopez.
"Oh shit, I gotta get going," Santana said, remembering that Puck, along with stacks of City Sniper work, were back at her place waiting for her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Britt."
"No problem, See you tomorrow, Santana," Brittany said, still smiling.
…
Santana probably should have taken a cab home. But instead, she decided to walk. She sent Puck a text saying there was a long line holding up Starbucks to buy her some time, but really, she just needed some time to sort through some things.
She knew that she'd have to come clean at dinner tomorrow. She'd have to tell Brittany what she'd be neglecting to mention. It's not like she was totally lying, Santana convinced herself. Her job was a desk job at times. And there sure as hell was a lot of paperwork.
The self-assuring continued as she rounded the last block to her apartment. You can't start seeing someone and keep her in the dark; she continued to remind herself. Brittany would have to make her decision. Santana just hoped for some sort of sign that she was doing the right thing.
…
When the hellish day of paperwork finally ended, Santana sent Puck home and crawled into her bed, hoping to get some sleep. Turns out, Puck wasn't really onto anything and they spent the entire day chasing a false lead. They were back to square one after endless hours of digging through reports and filed evidence.
Santana tossed and turned, trying to find sleep when she heard her phone vibrate on the nightstand. She rolled over to see a text from an unknown number.
I knew I'd get you to agree eventually. I'll see you tomorrow.
Instantly, she knew it was Brittany. She bit her lip and smiled, reading the text a couple more times before typing back,
You are adorable. See you tomorrow.