Chapter 3

"So, okay here's the list, along with all the info I can find on them."

"Hmm, twenty… impressive." Santana leaned against the railing as she studied the list. "So I just have to find out if they're alive and single, right?"

Brittany bit her lip. "Basically." She looked over at the park where families were having a picnic. "If they have secret children too or whatever. I prioritized the list so start at the top."

"Mike Chang, huh? Is he the one that got away?"

Brittany fiddled with the cover of her Starbucks coffee. "Something like that. We met at dance class when we were both in middle school. But his family moved to San Francisco in our senior year and I've lost touch with him since."

"Well, that sucks. Chang is a pretty common Chinese surname so it might take a while to trace him. But what else have you got on him?"

"His father's name is also Mike Chang, and he's a lawyer and from what I remember they were setting Mike up to follow in his footsteps. He mentioned about going to Stanford."

"Okay, well, I can start by taking a look at the alumni roster. Anything else on anyone?"

"All that I know is in the list." Brittany smiled. "If I had any other info, I wouldn't need your help."

Santana laughed. "Touché. So next is Holly Holliday—wait, is this really her name? It sounds like a porn star name."

"Yeah it is. I think she might have ventured into that industry. Or was it a strip club? She's pretty wild and adventurous." Brittany's eyes glazed over in the haze of recollection. "She's probably the best sex I've ever had."

"Well you've never had sex with me," Santana quipped. When Brittany's cheeks turned pink, she laughed. "Don't worry, I'll keep my professional distance. Besides, as I've said, neighbors are off-limits. It's pretty difficult finding a decent living space here nowadays." She turned back to the list. "Oh my god! You've hooked up with David Martinez? Damn! I'd give up my gold star status for him in a heartbeat."

"How'd you know him?" Brittany asked curiously.

"Oh right, you probably don't watch Mexican soaps. He's the star of the currently number one prime-time soap La Isla Bonita. So yeah, you should probably cross him off the list unless you're planning on moving to Mexico." She looked at the bottom of the list. "So why are these four names crossed out?"

"I just realized this morning when I was looking at the list that they're probably the ones I wouldn't mind not seeing again, you know? Bryan was the most cynical person I've ever met—he had me write down my dream on a paper and then ripped it up."

Santana eyebrows shot up. "Wow. Why'd you hook up with him then?"

Brittany furrowed her brows as she thought about it for a moment. "I honestly can't remember."

"Cooper Anderson?"

"Uh… he's the brother of my best friend's boyfriend and none of them knew we hooked up, so it's kind of awkward."

Santana nodded in understanding. "Brody Weston?"

Brittany shifted uncomfortably. "He's my friend's ex."

Santana raised an eyebrow. "Hooked up with him when he was already her ex?"

"Um, no."

"Oh, wow. Didn't expect you to be a homewrecker."

Brittany flushed. "They were in an open relationship and, besides, we weren't really friends yet then."

"And that friend… she still your friend now?"

"Sort of." Brittany shifted again. "Besides, I didn't know Brody was a gigolo until he asked me to pay up after."

Santana's eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect 'o.' "Wow, that is… a story to tell the kids. You sure you don't want to give him another shot?" she couldn't help but tease. Brittany just turned an even deeper shade of red and shook her head vehemently. Santana laughed and looked at the list again. "And Aphasia?"

"Oh, she's the last person I dated. She broke up with me, saying she'd want to explore greener pastures."

Santana snorted. "What is she, a cow?"

Brittany's eyes widened. "Exactly! I thought the same thing; I wondered if she was a were-cow or something."

"Probably, I mean, who goes around giving out just their first name? And Aphasia doesn't even sound like a real name. Like it's one you'd think of if you're hiding from the law or—"

"A were-cow in disguise!"

They looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

When Brittany had calmed down, she wiped the tears from the corner of her eye. "I'm so glad to find somebody who didn't think it was weird that I thought of cows when I talked about her break-up line."

"Are you kidding? It was just begging for it!" said Santana, still grinning broadly. They stood there looking at each other for a while, smiling at the glow of a shared joke.

Brittany couldn't help but think that Santana looked even prettier wearing a goofy grin than a seductive smirk. She was about to say so when Santana coughed awkwardly, breaking the spell of the moment.

"Well, I better get started then. I still have some hours before I have to hit the club, so." She pushed herself away from the railing. She waved the list and said, "I'll drop by your apartment later."

"Oh, okay." Brittany dug something out from her purse. She stretched out her fist. "Here you go."

Santana raised an eyebrow but opened her palm nonetheless. Brittany dropped a key to her hand. "Oh. Oh!" She gave Brittany a bemused look. "My, my, my, aren't we moving too fast? We haven't even gone out on a date yet."

Brittany flushed. "Wait—this is—you said that you'd hide out at my place and sometimes I'm at stake-outs and—this isn't—I wasn't—"

Santana laughed. "Just messing with ya. You sure, though? I'm still a stranger." When Brittany just looked at her, she prompted, "Stranger danger?"

"You're not a stranger. Well, at least you don't feel like one to me." Santana gave her a questioning look but Brittany just continued. "Besides, Lord Tubbington makes an excellent guard cat. He'll keep you in line if ever anything's amiss."

Santana took in this last piece of information with a dubious look. "Okay, whatever you say. Oh yeah, why don't we exchange numbers, so that I can give you quick updates."

"Okay." Brittany fumbled for her phone. She handed it to Santana as Santana gave her hers. She took out her notepad from her bag to check her number. She held the notepad on one hand and the phone on the other and started typing in her contact details. When she was done, she made a motion to hand the phone back to Santana but she was still typing. She was wearing a little frown. "Do you forget your letters and numbers, too?"

Santana looked up. "What?"

"Sometimes I get confused with letters and numbers, too. I've had to practice writing down my name a hundred times before I got it right and even now, I still make mistakes. Numbers are even more difficult; for some reason, my brain just scrambles them so I always keep a notepad with me where I keep numbers and stuff…" Brittany trailed off, blushing when she realized she was rambling. "Uh… never mind."

But Santana just gave a half-smile. "Yeah, I get what you mean. I used to mess up the lyrics of songs a lot until Wheezy—I mean, Mercedes, she's my friend who owns the club I work at—sat me down and had me sing the same song over and over again until I got it right."

"So you sing for a living?"

"Yeah, at the Troubletones."

Brittany beamed. "That sounds really cool. Do you sing there every night?"

"No, just Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. Mercedes sings on other days." Santana opened her mouth to say more but changed her mind.

"Aren't you gonna invite me to come watch?" Brittany teased.

Santana rolled her eyes while biting back a smile. "Nah. The club's my safe place." She paused for a moment. "I'm not even sure why I told you I work there in the first place." Before Brittany could reply to that, Santana resumed tapping at the phone. After a few moments, she was done and she handed it back to Brittany while Brittany handed over hers.

When Santana still didn't say anything, Brittany cleared her throat. "So, yeah, see you tonight? I have work to do so I'll probably be home late."

"No problem. My hours at the club tend to go late anyway. And tends to go even later when things go well, if you know what I mean," said Santana, waggling her eyebrows. Brittany rolled her eyes, making Santana laugh. "Don't worry, I'll do my job."

"You better."

Santana laughed again. "See you later, honey!"

Brittany tried not to falter at the term of endearment—of joking endearment—but she couldn't stop the warm feeling in her chest.

###

Brittany was reviewing the pictures she took of Will Schuester, a local high school teacher who was on trial for making improper advances on his students, when her phone blasted out the chorus to Call Me, Maybe, earning her glares from her co-workers. She immediately grabbed her phone to cut off the ringtone, wondering in her panic if Lord Tubbington had changed the settings again. She was sure she had it on silent.

When she saw who texted her, she felt a mix of irritation and amusement. Santana Lopez.

-Today's your lucky day—or not, but I found Hank Saunders. Can you get off work in an hour?

Brittany looked at the time and saw that it was already five.

"Hey, Sunshine," she whispered across her desk.

The tiny woman who had been furiously typing away on her laptop paused and looked up. "Yes, Brittany?"

"Do we have anywhere else to be today?"

Sunshine tilted her head to the side. "No. I'm just finishing up this article on the Schuester case and you already have the photos, right?" Brittany nodded. "Well, just print out the best ones and we'll be done for the day."

Brittany grinned. "Awesome."

She quickly typed back a response to Santana.

-sure thing where do we meet?

It only took a few seconds before Call Me, Maybe filled the air again. Brittany blushed and tapped on her phone to cut off the ringtone.

-Bakery down 4th St.

-ok will be there

And for good measure, she set her settings to silent again.

###

When Brittany arrived at the bakery, she couldn't find Santana. She was about to text her when she saw her standing by the counter, flirting with the cashier. She rolled her eyes and debated whether to interrupt or not when the doorbell chimed and a tall man with dark hair strode in.

He grabbed a tray and a pair of tongs and walked past Brittany and went straight to the breads on display on the counter. Brittany stood stock-still, still reeling from the surprise of seeing somebody she hadn't seen in a long time. Sure, she had anticipated this when she thought of tracking down her exes but seeing them in person was an entirely different matter.

"You know, I highly doubt staring will lead you to your desired end."

Brittany jumped at the sound of Santana's voice close to her ear. She whirled around and saw the woman grinning at her. She jerked her head towards the tall dark-haired man who was still looking at the display.

Brittany nodded and she made her way towards him. "Hey Hank!"

The man turned around in surprise. He looked at Brittany carefully. "Um, yes?"

"Fancy meeting you here. It's been a while!"

The man shifted uncomfortably. "Do I know you?"

Brittany's smile faltered. "It's me, Brittany. Brittany Pierce? We went to high school together."

The man furrowed his brows in confusion. "Brittany…" he muttered to himself, trying to place the name.

"We auditioned for Glee Club together!"

The man's eyes widened and his face paled. He dropped the tray and tongs. He shook his head vehemently. "No! No! I wasn't—there wasn't any Glee club—I-I—" He swallowed and dashed out of the bakery.

"Wow, did you give him a terrible handjob or something?" Santana asked, picking up the tray and tongs and placing them on the counter. Brittany shook her head. "We fooled around a bit before the auditions and I'm pretty sure I made him come in less than a minute."

Santana scrunched up her nose. "Okay, didn't have to know that."

"You started it," Brittany reminded her.

Santana shrugged. "Well then, did something else happen in the Glee club? He seemed spooked when you mentioned it."

"Nothing, really. The club director, Sandy Ryerson, was fired shortly after the auditions so the Glee club never really materialized."

"Why was he fired?"

Brittany shrugged. "I don't know; all that I can remember is that he was given a restraining order to stay away from the students."

After a few seconds, they looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Um, want to pursue this guy, or should we move on to the next?"

Brittany bit her lip. "Next."

###

When Brittany walked into her living room still half-asleep, she didn't expect to find Santana sleeping on her couch. Wearing just a sea-green tank top and black panties.

She must have let out a loud gasp since Santana stirred and cracked one eye open.

"G'morning," she mumbled.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for Elaine to leave." Santana rolled over to her side and shut her eye again. She blindly reached for the pillow that fell on the floor and hugged it to her chest. Brittany was momentarily distracted by how adorable she looked curled up like Lord Tubbington. But she remembered how she had stayed up waiting for her.

"You didn't drop by last night because you hooked up with somebody?"

"I found Hank Saunders, didn't I?" Santana grumbled sleepily.

"I waited for you." The moment the words came out of Brittany's mouth, she instantly regretted them. They sounded so weak and pathetic and whiny and—why the heck should it even matter?

Santana slowly opened her eyes. She blinked a couple of times before focusing on Brittany. "Why?"

"'Cause you said you would drop by." The words escaped Brittany's mouth before she could think about it.

Santana sat up gingerly, still hugging the pillow. She looked at Brittany with such scrutiny that she squirmed where she stood. Brittany was about to make an offhand comment about the weather to diffuse the tension when Santana spoke up. "I'm sorry."

Brittany didn't know which shocked her more, the apology itself or the soft way that Santana said it. She cleared her throat but her words still came out mumbled. "You want coffee?"

Santana looked at her in surprise. "Uh… sure."

Brittany nodded and hastily made her way to the kitchen. Or what used to be her kitchen. A part of it has been cleared and a corkboard covered the wall, complete with pictures and diagrams and name tags of the people in her list. She was still staring at it when she heard Santana come up behind her.

"My brother used to make one like this when they were looking for people and stuff. Makes it easier to keep track of the details."

Regaining herself, Brittany turned around and smiled. "Are you sure this isn't just to impress me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Picking up the teasing tone, Santana relaxed. She smirked back. "Depends. Is it working?"

Brittany shook her head, still smiling. "Any progress since Hank?"

"Well, I found out that numbers ten and twelve are married—not to each other," she added. "Artie Abrams, director of indie films, is married to Tina Cohen-Chang. Carl Howell, dentist, is married to Emma Pillsbury."

"Aww, I always knew Artie and Tina would end up back together!" squealed Brittany, clapping her hands together.

Santana looked at her in disbelief before shaking her head. "You're really something else, aren't you?" she chuckled.

Brittany looked at Santana for a moment then she dropped her gaze and started scuffing the floor with her toe. "Sorry for sounding so clingy earlier."

"It's—It's fine," Santana mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. "I should've kept my word anyway." She cleared her throat. "So, you were saying something about coffee?"

"Oh, right." Brittany opened the cabinet for the coffee when she realized that she had run out. "Shoot, I forgot I'm out. I'll just grab some from the coffee shop downstairs."

"Hey, no, it's fine—"

"After the work you did? It's the least I can do," said Brittany, already halfway to the door. She grabbed her gray hoodie hanging by the coat rack and slipped it on. She hastily tied her hair up in a messy bun with one of the scrunchies she usually slipped in the pocket. "I'm opening the door now," she announced, one hand on the knob.

There was no reply, only a faint sound of scurrying feet. Brittany chuckled as she opened the door and went out. Just as she was closing the door behind her, she heard the door from 6A open and when she looked up, she saw a woman with long brown hair exiting the unit. She took a swift glance at Brittany before hurrying down the stairs.

Brittany stood still for a moment, waiting until the sound of the woman's footsteps died away.

What struck Brittany was the woman's eyes. For a brief moment, she wondered if it meant something that they shared the same shade of blue but she shook her head. She was thinking too much.

She made her way downstairs.

###

When she returned to her apartment, she didn't see Santana anywhere.

"Santana?"

"Behind the couch."

She set the coffee down on the table and leaned over the back of the couch where she found Santana sitting on the floor, intent on a staring match with Lord Tubbington.

"Why are you hiding back there?" she asked, smiling.

"Just making sure Elaine doesn't see me."

Brittany rolled her eyes. "She already left, you know."

Santana broke off the eye contact with the cat and turned around to face Brittany. "Well, she might come back. Who knows?"

"Then why didn't you just sleep at her place and walk-of-shame your way out in the morning? That way she wouldn't know where you're staying at."

"Yeah but how would I know if she didn't have, like, a tripwire security system that could unleash the hounds of hell on me the moment I set my foot on the floor while she was still asleep? Or if she has some hidden camera or something and she's into recording stuff." Santana shivered. "I was almost sextaped once. Good thing I saw the camera right away. After that, never again."

"That's terrible." After a beat, she asked, "So why do you sleep around?"

Santana looked at her in disbelief. "Are you seriously asking that? I just like sex. Sex is great."

"I know," Brittany nodded in agreement. "But, like, don't you want to just settle for one person?"

Santana scoffed at that. "And what, deprive the rest of the lady population of this?" she asked, gesturing to her body. Brittany rolled her eyes. "Besides, I'm like a lizard; I need something warm underneath me or else I can't digest my food. It doesn't really matter who I sleep with."

Brittany should feel irritated by her casual dismissal of the women she had slept with but all she could think about was that Santana was always on top.

Hm.

How Brittany would love to change that.

Her eyes widened when she realized what she had been thinking. She quickly turned around and rolled off the couch. "Your coffee's on the table." She hesitated for a moment. "I have some work to finish, so I think it's better if you go."

Santana laughed. "Wow, talk about hot and cold."

"What?"

"Earlier you seemed pissed that I didn't drop by last night and now you want to kick me out. Can't blame ya though; this body is distracting. Don't feel too bad; anybody would've wanted to get up on all this," she said while gesturing to her body again.

Despite herself, Brittany found her eyes trailing along the other woman's figure this time around. She flushed when she realized what she was doing and immediately she snapped her eyes back to the other woman's.

Santana was wearing a smug smile on her face.

Brittany felt her face burn. "Shut up."

Santana got up, laughing. "All right, all right, no need to be so hostile," she grinned. She padded over to the front door. Before she left, she turned around and winked. "See you later, honey."