You wake up feeling extremely uneasy. Today is your last day by yourself. You make your way to the kitchen and see that you desperately need to go to the grocery store. You decide to go shopping after the kid gets here because you don't know what she likes to eat. At least you still have enough coffee left. You get a text from Kurt about lunch today since you had to cancel yesterday. You reply that you'll meet him in a few hours after you work out.
You go to the gym and try to work away your nerves. It's not helping. You begin to feel increasingly panicked about taking care of someone. You've only ever had to take care of yourself. You never even had a pet as a kid. You finish up and go back to the apartment to shower before lunch. It helps you relax a little. Eventually you make your way to a small Italian place around the corner that you always go to for lunch. You see Kurt and Rachel sitting in your usual booth. Kurt is looking fashionable as usual. Rachel is bundled up in a jacket, but you know she probably looks okay. You pride yourself on changing her wardrobe for the better during senior year in high school in exchange for her family taking you in. You sit down in the booth across from them just in time to hear Rachel telling Kurt that she isn't sure her supporting cast will be ready in time for opening night and she'll have to pick up all their slack and that it is just like high school glee club all over again. She has the lead in some new off-Broadway play that you know you never would have heard of if Rachel wasn't in it. The waiter takes your drink order and the pair finally notices you.
"Oh, hello Santana!" Kurt's voice is so girlish you can't help but roll your eyes at him.
"Kurt. Rachel." You met Kurt at NYU your very first class. He sat next to you and you found him to be a pretty fun person to be around, even if he was so ridiculously gay you wanted to throw up rainbows. You've been friends since. He owns his own fashion boutique that is really successful, with lines spread internationally. Your friends are successful, much more successful than you. You have a degree, but at this point, it's useless to you. You wouldn't even mind bartending the rest of your life. Nothing else seems right for you anyway.
Kurt and Rachel continue to talk about Rachel's play and all the gossip of the fashion world. You zone out, too caught up in your own thoughts. You need to find the local high school and call them. You need to change the sheets in the guest room. Do you need to childproof things? Should you lock the cabinet above the fridge where you keep the liquor? You are starting to feel very lost. You're broken out of your thoughts by your phone ringing. A glance across the table shows you that Kurt and Rachel are still preoccupied so you answer it.
"Hello?"
"Is this Ms. Lopez?"
"This is she?"
"Hi Ms. Lopez, this is Officer Hernandez, we spoke yesterday about your niece?"
"Oh, yes, hi."
"I was just calling to inform you of the details of your niece's arrival tomorrow. Mr. Velasquez paid for her to get a flight early afternoon and has arranged for her transportation, so it would be preferable if you could drop by the station around three. Does that work out for you?"
"That's fine."
"You don't know how much you're helping out this kid, Ms. Lopez."
"It's no problem, Officer."
"Alright then. Well I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you then."
You hang up to find Rachel and Kurt giving you a weird look. "What?"
"Who was that?" Kurt raises his eyebrows.
"Nobody." You should tell them, but you feel uneasy about it.
"Santana, why were you talking to an officer?" Rachel's giving you that look. That look like she knows you're not saying something and she's onto you and she's not going to leave you alone until she's stuck her giant nose all up in your business.
You look back and forth between the two of them and open your mouth to tell them, but then the waiter comes back with your drink and takes your order. You, for once, are relieved that waiters always seem to check up on you at the worst times. You order your pasta and when the waiter leaves are dismayed to see Rachel and Kurt still looking at you expectantly. You roll your eyes.
"Care to explain, Satan?" Kurt smirks at you.
"Maria has a daughter," you begin.
Rachel gives you a questioning look, while Kurt asks, "Who's Maria."
"Santana's older sister." Rachel swats him to be quiet.
You nod and rest your elbow on the table, and put your chin in your hand. You don't feel like doing this. "Her husband Roberto was just arrested and the girl doesn't have a place to live."
"Okay…"
"Well, and my mom wouldn't take her, so…"
Rachel's mouth falls open. "She's coming to live with you?" You nod. "Here? In New York?" You roll your eyes again.
"That's unexpected." Kurt takes a sip of his lemonade. "When?"
"Tomorrow."'
"Tomorrow? That's so soon!" You nod. You are already aware of this.
You sit in silence for a moment. You're not really sure what else to say, but you know the two gossiping divas will surely have their input if you wait long enough. Rachel is the first to break the silence.
"Santana, as I am sure you are aware, raising a child is not, as they would say, a walk in the park! Are you positive that you are emotionally ready for such a responsibility?"
"She's not a child, Rach. And I'm not raising her. She's almost seventeen."
"Why didn't you know about this, Santana?"
You shrug, you don't really know. There is silence again before Rachel tentatively says, "Maybe this is a good thing for you, Santana."
You raise an eyebrow at her. "What are you hinting at, Berry?"
"Maybe it's time you settle down." You are surprised at Rachel's tepidness. She is usually so bold.
"What?" You stare at her incredulously. You are twenty fucking six. You do not need to settle down.
"Let's face the facts, Santana. You have never had a real relationship. In fact, I've never seen you with a woman more than once. You work full time at a bar. You have no spontaneity in your life. You are almost thirty, Santana, and I, for one, find it extremely disappointing that you are wasting your life like this." Rachel finally takes a breath and you glare at her. She doesn't seem to notice. If she does, she doesn't care. "If we use myself as an example, we can note that I have had several functioning relationships and I am soon to have a successful Broadway career. Kurt is known internationally and has already tied the knot!"
"Don't bring me into this, Rachel." Kurt huffs, but looks fondly at his wedding ring. You briefly remember his wedding ceremony, where his face glowed as he danced with his pretty boy groom, Blaine. You remember downing shot after shot before taking one of Blaine's cousins home with you. You can't seem to remember her name.
"What does any of this have to do with letting the girl live at my house?"
"I'm just implying that it would be a fantastic experience for you to have responsibility and see what it's like to have a constant person in your life that you love and care for." Rachel finishes and your food arrives. You are once again grateful because under your cool exterior you feel anger bubbling and you don't want to snap at Rachel right now. You shovel down your food in an attempt to dissuade Rachel from making conversation with you. It works, and the conversation turns back to the horror that is her forty-five second costume change time between two scenes. She doesn't bring it up again and you are beyond relieved.
After lunch, you return to your apartment and change the guest room sheets. You research which high school is closest to you and decide you will call them next week. You think the girl deserves a week to get acquainted with her new life. You decide against the child locks, but hide the more expensive liquor in your closet. By the time you're done, you need to get ready for work.
It's strangely slow at the bar, even for a Thursday, so Puck tells you to sit down and take a load off. You didn't realize how heavy your load was until you had a few drinks. You're sitting at the bar, three vodka tonics in, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You whip around to see two hazel eyes staring at you.
"What?" You snap. The girl takes a step back and you get a better look at her. She's blonde and short and kind of cute. She has this good girl gone bad look to her, and you can't tell if she's gay or straight or what.
"I was just wondering if you'd seen a tall blonde girl walk in." She eyes you up and down and you feel like this girl doesn't take shit from anyone.
"No, I haven't."
She tilts her head to the side before nodding her head. "Can I sit with you?"
"What about tall blonde girl?"
"I don't think she's here yet."
You shrug your shoulders. "Yeah, alright."
She sits down next to you at the bar and Puck wanders over. "Hey gorgeous, what can I get you?" You roll your eyes at Puck and slide your glass over to him, motioning for another.
"I'll have what she's having." Puck goes to get the drinks and your new company turns to you. "I'm Quinn by the way."
"Santana."
"Not much for conversation, are you?" Quinn raises her eyebrows at you.
"That depends…"
"On what?"
You're about to tell her, but Puck saunters over. "One for the beautiful lady and another one for Lezpez." He places your drink in front of you and you shoot him your signature glare. He laughs, unfazed. "Seriously though, Santana, you should slow it down."
"Back off, Puckerman. I need more if I'm going to have to deal with your ass all night." Quinn laughs and you glare at her too.
"Is she always like this?" Quinn turns to Puck with a smile.
"Pretty much. You might say she needs to loosen up and get laid, but I don't think that's her problem. She gets laid plenty. I'm sorry to say there is no excuse for her behavior, she was just born a bitch. Weren't you, Santana?" His mocking tone angers you and he knows it. He smirks at you and you're just about to show him how much of a bitch you really are when someone pushes in between you and Quinn at the bar.
"Quinn!"
"Oh, hey B. About time you got here." You look to see who's invading your personal space and see it's Cute Blonde from yesterday. She has this big smile that lights up her eyes and her blonde hair falls to her shoulders in waves. Cute Blonde turns to you and her smile seems to grow even wider. "Oh, this is Santana, by the way. Santana this is-"
"Yeah, we've met," Cute Blonde cuts in. "Hey Santana."
"Hi again."
"Wait, how do you know each other?"
"Well, I was already here yesterday before you texted me about your sister. We talked for a little bit."
You raise your eyebrows. "This is who stood you up?" You turn to Smiling Blonde and smirk a little.
"Hey, B! You told her I stood you up?"
"Relax Quinn. She's kidding." Cute Blonde – B? – rolls her eyes.
"Oh."
"Santana's been giving you the bitch act so don't worry about it," Puck interjects.
Quinn snorts. "That's for sure. You positive you talked to her, B? She's been cold shouldering me ever since I sat down." Quinn's face remains serious, but you see a glint in her eye that tells you she's joking. You down your drink and say nothing.
"Aw, I think San's nice."
Your drink gets caught in your throat and you can't help the coughs that escape your mouth. "Whoa, easy there, San. Don't want me to have to do CPR on you, do you?" You thank God that your skin tone hides the red creeping into your cheeks. Cute Blonde laughs and asks Puck for a drink. You motion for another.
"Seriously, Santana? Last one, okay?"
You shrug. You can feel the alcohol starting to take effect, but you're not ready to stop yet. Quinn and Cute Blonde talk for a minute and you watch Puck behind the bar. What time is it? You remember that you have to pick the kid up at three tomorrow and your nerves come racing back. Puck sets down another glass and you take a big sip, trying to wash away the panic that has just crept over you.
"Oh my God!" Cute Blonde squeals and you jump a little in your seat. "Quinn, I love this song! Dance with me?" She doesn't wait for Quinn to respond, but grabs her by the hand and hauls her over to the small dance floor Puck has set up in the corner. You watch them walk away and notice that Cute Blonde towers over Quinn. She seems to take two strides and is already on the floor moving to the beat. You watch as her body molds to the music. She spins Quinn around and throws her head back laughing. You're entranced by her long long long legs and the gracefulness with which she absorbs the rhythm of the song and brings it to life. Quinn seems to hold her own with Long Legs and they dance in a way that suggests they've danced together many times before. Tall Blonde laughs again before glancing up and catching you staring at her. She smiles that bright smile of hers and you smile back before returning to your drink.
You talk with Puck about the girl he brought home last night for a while until someone occupies the seat Quinn vacated. You look up to see a familiar face and internally groan.
"Hey hot stuff."
"Go away, Jake."
The good looking man smiles at you. "Why, looks like you're not working tonight like you said you would be."
"I was, but I'm done for the night." If the time you had spent talking to Puck didn't sober you right back up then seeing this douche bag sure did.
"Well then, I guess you don't have an excuse not to come out with me." You scowl and are about to tell him to fuck off when an arm slides across your shoulders.
"Hey, babe, who's this?"
You look up to see Tall Cute Blonde staring pointedly at Jake. "I'm Jake. Who are you beautiful, and why haven't we met before?"
Your smile quickly turns to a glare and you can feel the anger boiling in your stomach. "I'm with Santana. Jake, you said?" Cute Blonde looks down at you, her arm still snaked across your shoulders. "Sweetie you've never mentioned him before. Is this something I should be worried about?" Blondie's eyes twinkle mischievously and you smile gratefully.
"No, baby, he's not important to me. You always get so jealous. I've told you before, you're enough for me." You play along, thankful Cute Blonde is saving you, even though Jake knows you're gay now. You don't care much; you're pretty sure he wasn't going to give up anyway.
"I don't know, Santana. He seems to be getting a little too friendly with you for my liking." Cute Blonde sends Jake a glare and you can't help but think she is super sexy when she's pretending to be possessive of you.
Jake looks back and forth between you and Sexy Blonde before putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, hey I know when to back off ladies." You snort. Yeah, right. "Well, bye Santana, see you around." He pushes off the bar stool, leaving you alone with Blondie.
You turn to her and smile gratefully. "Thanks, that guy never leaves me alone. I swear I've turned him down at least twenty times."
"No problem." Cute Blonde leans down and you feel her breath on your face. "Plus, I just wanted to steal you all for myself."
You raise your eyebrows at her flirtatious tone. "Oh?"
She twirls a strand of your hair between her fingers. "Mhmmm." Her blue eyes sparkle and you wonder where Quinn went.
"What about your girlfriend?"
A look of surprise crosses her face. "Who, Quinn? Oh, she's not my girlfriend. Although I do think she has a thing for your guy friend over there." Cute Blonde points across the bar to where Quinn is talking to Puck. You look back to see her smiling seductively at you. "So, can I get you a drink? Or anything else?" She leans forward and you feel her breath tickle your lips. Your whole body heats up and you feel a sudden throb between your legs.
You smile and tell her that you think Puck is right; you've had enough drinks for the night. "We could go back to my place if you want?" You suggest in a whisper.
"Okay." She skips off to tell Quinn she's leaving and you don't bother saying goodbye to Puck. Cute Blonde grabs your hand and leads you out of the bar. You're thankful you were smart enough to get an apartment just down the block from Puckerman's. You lead Blondie to the apartment and as soon as you've shut the door behind you, you're being slammed against it. It kind of hurts, but the pain is lost on you as lips connect with yours and your arms are pinned above your head against the door. You take in the smell of alcohol and sweat and something sweet and feel your heart beat quicken as blood rushes to your head.
You push Forceful Blonde back and grab her hand, yanking her towards the bedroom. You push her down on the bed and your lips begin a full-fledged attack on her neck. You feel her hands in your hair and on your cheek and on your shoulders and everywhere before they're tugging at your shirt and pulling it over your head. Graceful Blonde removes her own shirt before pulling you back on top of her and reconnecting your lips. You quickly unbutton your jeans when the throb between your legs intensifies. You remove her jeans and panties then move to get rid of your own as her bra falls to the floor. Yours follows shortly.
Then you're on top of her, hands in her blonde hair and she moans when your tongue slips past her lips. Your hands eagerly explore her long body and you take in her defined abs and toned thighs. Then you've got one hand on her stomach and one slipping through her legs. She gasps when you enter her and soon you're pumping and thrusting and her hands clamp down on your sheets and she's shaking and clenching and suddenly she's arched into you and there's momentary silence except for rapid breathing and you gently bring her back down until she's slumped on the bed with one last quiet moan.
Satisfied Blonde barely takes any recovery time before she's flipped you over and is pinning you down with muscular arms. She straddles you and kisses your neck, nibbling at it before running her tongue over the freshly marked spot. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel her hand travel south, one arm still holding yours to the bed. You groan when she dances around your entrance, teasing you, and you turn your head and bring your lips to hers. Finally she thrusts a finger in and begins moving in and out of you. You can't believe how ready you already are, and when she slips in a second finger you feel a low burn in your stomach. Another finger is added and you're so full and so ready and with a curl of the fingers you're toppling over the edge and an "Oh… God!" escapes your throat. You come back down with a sigh and blue eyes find yours in the darkness.
"Actually, it's Brittany," Cute Blonde says with a laugh and normally you would roll your eyes at such cheesiness, but you've just experienced the best orgasm you've had in a really long time and you can't do anything but breathe out a small breath of air.
"Brittany," you whisper as her body rolls off of you and her arm reaches over your stomach and drags you closer.
"Mhmmm." You barely hear her through your haze and sudden exhaustion before your eyes close and you drift to sleep.