Title: Your Little Game
Rating: T/M
Pairing: Santana/Brittany [Brittana]
Word Count: 3,856
Setting: New York City
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee


The following Tuesday Santana found herself standing in her own room, studying the tow outfits that laid on her bed. Tonight was her date with Finn, and alight she honestly couldn't care less about the outcome of the evening, she did want to look decent.

Finally making up her mind, she picked up a v-neck red dress that came down to her knees. Carefully slipping it over her head, she zipped herself up and Santana headed into the bathroom.

It was a decent size, especially since it was only her using it. Santana watched herself in the mirror. Using her curling iron, she took her time to let her hair fall into soft ringlets before pinning the first section to the side. Santana may or may not have been influenced by Brittany's hairstyle from Friday night. Not that she'd ever admit it. Before long, she had her hair finished, along with her make up. Mostly consisting of a small amount of lipstick, she was careful not to go overboard on her dark brown eyeshadow that inevitably brought out her eyes.

Everything was ready for Santana's date. The only problem was that she had finished getting ready far more quickly than she had guessed. Going into her living room, she mentally kicked herself. There was at least an hour until Finn showed up. Assuming that he showed up on time.

Which she doubted he would.

A small feeling came over Santana, and her hands flew to her stomach. Butterflies. She let out a groan. Really? This was Finn. There wasn't any reason to be nervous. All she needed… was to think of something else…

Her mind immediately flew to Brittany. Of meeting her. Watching her perform. And finally, the dinner after.

Unknowingly, Santana had learned a lot about Brittany that night. About everyone, really. Like the fact that Finn would get unusually quiet and stare at his food whenever Puck and Rachel got overly cute. How Quinn, who was sitting across from her and Brittany, had seemed to shoot daggers at Santana throughout the entire dinner. However, Santana couldn't deny that she spent most of her time paying attention to Brittany. Talking with her, and getting to know her better.

It was obvious from the start that Brittany wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box. But despite that, she seemed to have a talent at seeing through someone's bullshit. What wasn't as obvious though, was that she seemed to just love everything. A true optimist.

Suddenly, Santana's butterflies returned with even more force than before, which was surprisingly possible in the first place. She checked the time once again. Only ten minutes had passed. Santana groaned, and let herself fall onto the couch beside her. She pulled out her phone, and scrolled through the unusually high number of contacts. Against her better judgement, Santana had let the majority of Puck's friends have her phone number.

Well, except for Rachel, because Santana honestly couldn't stand her.

After spending what felt like years, Santana finally just turned on her TV. Letting her mind drift the majority of the time, until there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was Finn, Santana was surprised. He had actually shown up early?

It was when she opened the door, however, when Santana realized it wasn't Finn. Instead, a girl with blonde, short hair stood in front of her. She had a stony expression and Santana immediately recognized her as Quinn.

"We need to talk." Quinn said, immediately wanting to get to the point.

"You don't waste time with small talk, do you?" Santana tried to keep herself friendly, but was feeling defensive. "How do you even know where I live?"

"Look, this isn't about me, okay? This is about Brittany."

Santana opened the door more, and stepped back to let Quinn stand just inside the doorway, "What about Brittany?"

"Don't try to do anything with her."

Crossing her arms, Santana let a look of confusion cross over her face, "What? Why would I do that?"

"I know what you've done with Puck, alright? And Brittany has been screwed over too many times in her life by people who only pretend to care about her."

"I barely know her. Why would I try to screw her over?"

"I saw how you looked at her."

"Let me get this straight, because I looked at Brittany a certain way, you now hate me?"

"I don't hate you." Quinn's tone softened, even if it was just a bit, "Brittany is my best friend, and I'm trying to look out for her. She looks for the best in people... even if they don't always deserve it."

"It's great that you've come here to do this, but I'm not going to hurt her."

"Good." Quinn paused, making it obvious she wasn't sure what to do now that she had her point across, "I should probably go, then."

Santana merely nodded in agreement, giving a small wave as she shut the door after Quinn. When she was sure Quinn was gone, Santana let out a groan. Having sex with a guy who was in love with your friend's girlfriend? Meeting a girl and having her overprotective best friend come to your apartment to tell you not to screw around? Things were getting far, far too complicated for her liking.

The next time there was a knock at the door, Santana was pleased to see that this time it was Finn.

"Hi..." He said, as Santana quickly grabbed her purse, and dark denim jacket.

"Hi." She returned simply, stepping into the hallway, and locking the door behind her. "So, where are we going?"

"There's a restaurant I found. I thought it was pretty close, so we could walk there."

Santana nodded in return, leading him down the staircase and outside of the apartment building. Honestly, she had been surprised by the fact that he had known which apartment was actually hers when picking her up. They walked in silence down the streets until Finn finally spoke up.

"We're friends now, right?" He asked.

"Do you mean friends, or fuck buddies?" Santana kept her voice cool of emotion.

"Friends..."

"I don't do friends."

"Just like how you don't do love?"

"Exactly."

Santana shoved her hands into the dark denim of her jacket, and adjusted the strap of her purse, hoping that Finn would just shut up already.

"What do you do, then? I mean, if you don't have any real relationships, don't you ever get lonely?"

"Look, what I do and don't do with my life is none of your business, okay?"

Finn kept silent after that remark until Santana let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. We can be 'friends'." if it will make you shut up, and stop acting like a two year old, she added mentally. Although the tension between them seemed to almost immediately ease, they both kept quiet for the rest of their walk to the restaurant.


The dinner was going better than expected. Once Santana had given to actually listening to Finn talk, she had found that he was actually a pretty decent guy. Not exactly the brightest, but still sincere. However, there was only one flaw. Santana felt no romantic attraction to him. At all.

What was wrong with her? Since when did Santana let appeal get in the way of sex? He seemed to act more brotherly towards her than anything else. Making the idea of their plans seem almost repulsive.

"So..." Finn said, taking a bite of his pasta before continuing to talk to Santana. Who was, at the moment, more poking and moving food around on her plate than actually eating.

"Yes?" She glanced up from her plate.

"Do you think there any way Rachel could like me?

"... Maybe."

"But like... how could I do it?"

Santana raised an eyebrow at Finn as she tried to keep from glaring at the taller boy. "Finn, you are on a date with a girl. A girl who you plan on fucking tonight. Meanwhile, you are asking said girl how to get a date with her friend's girlfriend. What is wrong with this picture?"

"Right. Sorry." Santana could see him avoid her gaze uncomfortably, causing her to roll her eyes. Good. That's what he got for trying to pull something like that.

"Whatever. So what do you do when you aren't thinking about Rachel?" She asked in attempt to change the subject.

"Well, I still go to school, and I'm working at a furniture store."

"Okay, why would you work in a furniture store?

"I help with all of the delivery, and shipping." Finn answered as if it wasn't a big deal. "They need someone big enough to help carry the merchandise."

Santana nodded in understanding. She took a bite of her salad, filling her already full stomach.

"What about you?" He asked, "I mean, you must have gotten some sort of job before applying in that coffee shop."

"My parents decided that as long as I stay in school, they'll help me out with that." She shrugged in return, feigning nonchalance.

"Oh, well that was nice of them. To help you out like that."

She let out a small, bitter laugh. Sticking her fork into a piece of lettuce with more force than necessary. "You say it's nice. I say they just wanted a reason for me to move out."

"Awe come on, why would you say that?"

"Never mind. Forget it."

Finn opened his mouth, about to say more when Santana silenced him with a glare. She didn't need him knowing all about her personal life. About the fact that she planned on cutting him off after tonight. Cutting all of them off, really. Finn, Rachel, Quinn, Puck, even... Brittany.

It was a few minutes later, after Finn had finished, that Santana threw her napkin on her plate with a flourish. Knowing that if she tried to eat any more, she'd be sick.

"So what now? Do you want to go back to my apartment?" Santana asked, ignoring the waiter who had brought them their cheque.

"Yeah, if that's okay with you."

She smirked at how nervous he now was, when a few minutes ago he had been completely fine. "Come on, then."

Between Finn's quick, nervous pace, and Santana's desire to get this over with as soon as possible, it wasn't long until the two had arrived back at her apartment. It had gotten to the point where Santana wanted to do this more for the sake of getting it over with than anything else.

"Home, sweet home." She announced, throwing the door open, and walking in. Finn trailed closely behind, as Santana flicked on the light switches.

"The bedroom is this way." She called, noticing that Finn had gotten distracted by a picture hanging on one of the walls. His eyes flickered over to her, realizing that she was already waiting for him.

"Are you ready?" She asked with a serious tone when he finally entered the room. He stayed quiet, but nodded nonetheless.

Taking a hold of his tie, Santana pulled him to sit on the bed before leaning in to kiss him. She made sure to keep it long, and slow. Quite honestly, there wasn't much about it to keep her interested. So instead, she let her mind wonder. She let herself think about pointless details, like how she had her job interview the next day. She allowed herself to drift when Finn became more enthusiastic. And when things finally began to get a move on, Santana forced herself not to think about anything at all.


When Santana woke up in the morning, she found herself fully clothes in an old t-shirt, and pair of flannel shorts. She guessed that Finn had gotten them out for her some time in the night. Sitting up, Santana looked over to see him still sleeping. She let herself remember the events of last night. At one point, however, Santana's mind got stuck on one small detail. Even though she couldn't see her reflection, Santana knew the colour had drained from her face. She shook her head to herself, trying to not get caught up in it. It didn't matter. It wasn't like the sex had meant anything to her, she was sure of that. But that didn't stop her from feeling... empty. It was at that moment when Finn woke up.

"Uh... hey." He said groggily, rubbing his eyes in attempt to wake up. To be honest, Santana was surprised it had taken this long for him to wake up, since she guess for it to be about noon.

"We have a problem." She deadpanned, noticing that not only did she feel hollow, but sounded like it as well.

"What is it?"

"You did something last night..."

"We used protection, right?" There was a hint of panic in his voice.

"Of course we did." she snapped, looking away from him, "I'm not an idiot."

She heard a small breath of relief escape his lips. Pausing, she decided to just come out with it. "You called me Rachel."

"What?"

"Last night?" Santana gave a glance to him before staring at the foot of the bed, "You called me Rachel."

He was dumbfounded. She could tell without even needing to look at him. Cutting Finn off in the middle of his apology, she got up from the bed, and crossed her arms. "You should go." Her voice was quiet, but still firm.

"I'm so-"

"It doesn't matter. I have to get ready for my interview. You should leave... Now."

Santana watched as he mumbled an "okay." He put on his clothes, which were now wrinkles from lying in a heap on the floor overnight. Walking him to the door, Santana quickly said goodbye when he opened his mouth to apologize again.


"Santana!" A pleasant voice called out among the honking horns, and general noise of the street. Turning around, Santana spotted a flash of blonde hair emerge from the crowd.

"Hi, Brittany." She pushed away the swelling sense of happiness in her chest when she realized that the other girl hadn't forgotten about her.

"Nice outfit." Brittany grinned. Usually, Santana would have expected it to come off as some sarcastic remark, but realized that she was actually serious.

She looked down at herself, suddenly a bit self conscious. It was a very simple outfit. A brown skirt that seemed to float while she walked, and a plain while shirt with a necklace. Santana knew that she wouldn't be caught dead in this outfit on any other day. However, she had just come out from her interview, and she had been desperate to make a good impression.

"So where are you going?" The blonde chirped, as they began to walk down the street together. Often dodging the other people walking, Santana made sure to look ahead, and not to get caught up in watching her.

"Just home."

"Oh. Do you want to come over to my place, then?"

"Your place?" Santana allowed herself to sneak a glance at Brittany.

"Yeah. I had fun talking to you the other night, and you seem nice."

Nice? This girl obviously hadn't been around Santana much. She suddenly remembered Quinn's visit. About how Brittany always assumed the best in people, even if they didn't necessarily deserve it. "Is that what Puckerman told you?"

"No..." Brittany frowned slightly, "Puck doesn't have to do with this." She took a hold of Santana's hand, causing them both to stop walking. "Like I said, you seem nice. And I want to get to know you more."

"I don't think you want to do that..."

"Why not?"

Santana opened her mouth before closing it again. Why? Because things would take a turn for the worst. Something would happen, and everything would get screwed up. There was a small voice in the back of Santana's head, however, that told her otherwise. Maybe... they could just be friends... Maybe Santana could put up a bit longer with Finn, if she got to be with Brittany as well. Before she knew it, Santana was speaking again, "Okay, fine. Where do you live?"

Brittany was practically beaming at Santana, before they began walking again.

l***l

"You live with your parents?" Santana asked, amazed. She stared at the doorway, as the other girl unlocked the front door to the large, white home.

"Yup." Brittany replied simply. She opened the front door with ease, leading Santana inside.

Looking around, Santana was impressed. There was a fairly large staircase in front of her, with a hallway beside it, which she guessed lead to a kitchen. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the doorway to the living room. Everything was so... homey. That was the only way Santana knew how to describe it. It was clean, but still showed that they weren't paranoid over it. Everything was either painted in a pale yellow, white, or some variation of those colours, along with many indoor plants.

"Come on." Brittany grinned, making Santana tear her gaze away from the house. "I'll take you up to my room."

Racing up the stairs, Santana quickly followed. She tried to convince herself that the loud pounding in her chest was just from walking too quickly, and hoped to god that Brittany couldn't hear it. She panted quietly as they walked down the new hallway, trying to catcher her breath. She noticed that the walls were lined with old family photos. However, Santana didn't have time to get a good look at any of them when they came to the end of the hall, and a door.

"Tada!" Brittany made sure to speak with a flourish as she opened the door for Santana to enter before her.

The first thing Santana noticed when she walked in were the pictures. They lined the white dressers, with each one containing a small blonde girl who Santana guess was Brittany. There was a small lamp that matched the dressers beside a pink and white bed. However, it wasn't on since a window across the room was open, with sunlight pouring in.

Suddenly, there was a large, furry - thing - rubbing against Santana's leg to shake her out of her thoughts. Giving a small yelp, she jumped back. The next thing she knew, Brittany was beside her, scooping up the large animal so she could now see it for what it was. A very large cat.

"This is Lord Tubbington." Brittany explained.

Despite the initial shock, Santana put on a smile and reached out to pet the cat. It was right before she about about to touch the soft, brown fur when he hissed at her.

"Don't mind him." The other girl dismissively said, setting Lord Tubbington back onto the ground. "He's just mad because I've taken away his cigarettes."

Santana paused, hoping for her to continue. When she didn't Santana spoke, "Your cat smokes?"

"Yeah... I've been trying to get him to quit, though. It isn't good for him."

"And do you have anything against people who smoke?"

"No..." She shrugged, clearly indifferent on the subject.

Letting out a small breath of relief, Santana tried to regain composure. She wasn't sure why Brittany's opinion of her meant so much, but it did. It did more than she was willing to admit.

For the next few hours, they had remained like that. Just asking each other questions. Trying their best to get to know each other.

"What do you mean, you don't like Indigo Girls?"

"I don't know, I just don't."

It hadn't taken long before Santana was sitting on the floor, with Brittany laying on her stomach on the bed. Looking down at her as she practically fire questions. Santana had no idea why she wanted to know so much about her, but ignored that as she answered.

"Dancing or singing?"

"Both."

"Favourite sport?"

"Cheerleading."

Brittany let out a grin, and "Me too!" before continuing with, "Beyonce or Lady GaGa?"

"Impossible question."

"Cats or dogs?"

"Cats."

"Favourite movie?"

"Bring It On."

"Any siblings?"

"A brother."

"Old or younger?"

"Older."

"Birthday?"

"August third."

"Sexuality?"

Santana froze. Brittany had said it in the same tone as every other question, so it obviously didn't matter what she was. But what was she supposed to say? She didn't know. Okay, that was a lie. She knew what she was supposed to say. Straight. She was straight, wasn't she?

Apparently the conflict Santana had was showing on her face as plain as day, because the next thing she knew Brittany was encouraging her to ask the questions now, instead of answering. Shifting a bit, Santana took a deep breath.

"Cats or dogs?"


Author's Note: Sorry for not updating in so long. Hopefully the fact that this chapter is extra long will make up for that. To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, so reviews are appreciated :)