Well looky there. Two in one night. I'm on a role. So once again, no beta. Mistakes belong to me. I hope you enjoy.
As Santana peered into the snow covered wonderland outside the front door, she wondered why she had agreed to this stupid house swap at all. She was angry at the snow for making travel difficult, at the wind for being icy cold slaps to the face any time she managed to venture outside, and to the ice that caked the walk up to the front door of Noah Puckerman's quiant little home. But mostly, Santana was pissed that she hadn't thought to bring warmer clothes.
She knew that scowling through the window wasn't going to make the weather clear any faster. And she knew her desire for warmer clothes and real food would eventually get the better of her. Yet, she couldn't quite decide how to make herself move. She was bundled up in her thickest skinny jeans and a UCLA hoodie. Even with the massive leather coat she found in Noah's (Puck's? She wondered if he really preferred to be called that) hall closet she would be cold.
Sure enough, as soon as she stepped out the front door her body began to shake. It was an immediate reaction to the sharp wind that chilled her all the way down to her bones. Jogging as quickly as she could without falling on ice, Santana made her way to the large red truck parked out front. Grabbing the key from her pocket, she ripped open the door and flew into the cab. As she made herself comfortable Santana glanced around the interior of the truck. A deep frown overtook her features when she noticed that the truck was a manual transmission. The trip to the grocery store was becoming less and less appealing with each passing moment.
Santana turned the key in the admission numerous times to no avail. The engine would just not turn. She wondered if perhaps it could freeze, but the thought even seemed silly to her. As a California native she knew very little about snow, but Santana was not stupid. She figured the truck worked fine. She was just too stupid to figure it out.
After a few minutes of futile attempts Santana decided to clear the snow off the windows in hopes that after that the car would magically start. So what her logic sucked. She was fucking cold and her brain was probably freezing as the seconds passed. With a humph, she hopped back into the slushy street, this time holding the snow brush in one hand.
The truck was tall. Santana was not. As a result, each swipe of snow was a marathon all its own. Never had the Latina imagined snow could be so heavy. After a few seconds Santana found a motion that worked for her. She learned that if she jumped as high as she could while using the wiper like a baseball bat she could slowly slide the snow away. If it weren't for the subtle chuckle Santana probably would not have noticed she was being watched.
Whipping around much too quickly, Santana almost lost her balance completely. After she had regained her composure she straightned the jacket out and looked at the intruder. The Latina didn't know what to expect, but she sure as hell didn't predict finding a bubbly little blonde smirking at her with dancing blue eyes. The scowl that had been painted on Santana's face since her arrival turned into an embarrassed blush as soon as their eyes met. The nervous tingle in her stomach was something she hadn't felt in so long she almost mistook it for nausea.
"I can't believe Puck would make you come out here and start his truck just so he can take you home. I oughta scold him for his bad manners." Santana didn't know what the blonde was talking about so she just remained quiet, not really sure what to say after looking like an idiot just a few seconds ago. "And here I was thinking he had finally started to grow up. I guess some people never learn. It's like I told Lord Tubbington just yesterday: people never change. They can try, but ultimately you are who you are and that's that."
Santana listened carefully, but had absolutely no idea how to respond. Who the fuck is Lord Tubbington? And why is she still talking? And what's with the mismatched gloves? "Anyway," the blonde continued. "You should march right in there and tell Puck to clean off his own truck. He really shouldn't treat you so bad."
Finally the Latina found her voice. When she spoke it was scratchy and thick from the cold. "Puck's not in there. We did a house swap."
The blonde's face lit up, if it were even possible with all the color resulting from the cold. Santana had never seen a tip of the nose and cheeks so red before. She thought it was awfully cute even if the blonde looked somewhat childish in her lion hat. Of course maybe the clothes just complimented the girlish charm. "Like in The Holiday?" the blonde asked with an excited giggle.
"Apparantly. I never saw it."
"That's so cool! I've always wanted to do that. But no one would want to live in my apartment. And it isn't really often people want to come to Lima anyway."
"Wait so you don't live around here?" Santana asked as she leaned against the truck. She pulled her numb fingers to her mouth and blew on each digit hoping to spark some life back in them.
"You really should be wearing gloves. You're gonna get frostbite."
"I know. That's actually where I was heading. The store. For clothes and groceries."
The blonde smiled a huge toothy grin that was contagious in a way Santana hadn't thought possible. A small little grin formed on her lips just from watching the blonde. It felt odd and out of place. She couldn't remember the last time she smiled. "I guess I won't keep you then. But be careful in Puck's truck. He loves that thing more than his mother." Santana through a sideways glance at the piece of rust next to her, but made no comment. "Oh and if it acts up you have to double pump the clutch and the stick shift grinds."
That reminded Santana. She had no idea how to drive the truck. The blonde spun on her heel to leave, but Santana sprung into action. "Wait...uhh..."
"It's Brittany," the blonde replied as she pivoted back around, making a complete turn without pausing once. Santana wondered breifly how she looked so graceful, but the thought was replaced quickly by the realization that it was her turn to talk.
"Santana." When Brittany reached out for a formal shake, Santana savored the momentary warmth from the silly glove.
"What were you going to say?" Brittany asked after an awkward silent second. Santana still hadn't removed her hand. Suddenly she realized how ridiculous she must look.
Pulling it away a little too suddenly, Santana stumbled over her words. "I just don't know how to drive stick. Do you have any pointers?"
"You can't drive stick?" Brittany asked, as if Santana hadn't just said those very words. In any other circumstance the Latina would have fired back with some snide comment, but there was an earnestness in Brittany's light blue eyes that shut her up. Santana just shook her head and looked at her wet uggs. "Well I don't think the roads are very good for learning today. Maybe tomorrow morning I could teach you though?"
It took Santana a second to comprehend that Brittany was asking her a question. She thought it was incredibly sweet that the blonde would offer after only knowing each other for five minutes. People in L.A. Just aren't like that. "I would like that a lot," Santana answered with a genuine nod of appreciation.
"For now do you want me to take you to the store?"
Normally Santana would agree because taking advantage of someone's kindness was just something she liked to do. Hell, it even brought her pleasure to use people. But something about Brittany made her reconsider her antics. She found herself wondering if all those years of being a bitch were maybe the wrong path. Regardless, she decided to decline the offer. "It's no big deal. I can go tomorrow. I'll just have a microwavable dinner tonight."
"Are you sure?" Brittany asked skeptically. "It really wouldn't be any big favor. I love shopping. Plus I have nothing else to do with my day."
"Are you sure?" The Latina asked as she felt her resolve slowly chipping away.
"As sure as glass."
"Umm ok..."
"Good. It's settled," Brittany stated firmly. "You're coming with me." And for reasons unknown to Santana, she really like the way that sounded coming from Brittany.
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