Chapter 6: Return of the Duck

7:02 Monday morning comes and passes without music, me with one eye on the aisle, and a blank spreadsheet on my screen.

7:06 comes and passes with music playing out of my monitor as is custom weekday mornings.

7:07 comes and passes with my ear buds in.

7:07 and ten seconds comes and passes with my ear buds out.

7:07 and twenty seconds comes and passes with my ear buds back in.

7:07 and twenty-two seconds comes and passes with my ear buds thrown on the floor.

7:10, knuckles whitened on the edge of my desk, I settle on wordless, acoustic guitar playing softy from my speakers. Just in time for Santana to walk down the aisle to her desk.

I had thought about what I would say to her constantly since we parted Saturday. It wasn't until I was in bed Sunday night that I realized I should probably figure out how I felt about the situation...how I feel about Santana. I came up with the same conclusion for everything: I have no idea.

I hear Santana's chair sink under her pressure and the almost silent tick of her computer's power button; not only signaling her computer starting, but also the agreed upon starting point of our daily duets. Nothing happens and I silently curse myself for picking music without words.

I hear the shift in Santana's chair and I know she's facing me. My faux interest with my computer screen only lasts a few seconds before my head drops and my chair rotates towards the woman with her brown eyes already on me. She waits until I make eye contact before speaking. "Are we going to talk about it, or act like it never happened?"

I've seen her eyes soft, I've seen them determined, and I've seen them with more seduction than my stomach can bear to think of at the moment. I have not, however, ever seen the vulnerability she's casting on me at the moment. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Her lips curl, just barely, but the absent glint from her eyes leaves me guessing. "That you didn't say forget it, makes me think we should talk."

We haven't broken eye contact this entire conversation, but when I nod my head, she takes it as her cue to turn back to her computer, and leave the impending conversation for later.

"So."

Santana and I sit on our favorite couch, watching suits walk in and out of the building. I regret not bringing my water bottle as my hands move idly, searching for something to fidget with.

"How's Quinn?"

"Annoyingly happy." Santana answers without looking away from the door. "And Rachel?"

"I thought she was running lines yesterday for a romance movie audition. Turns out she was monologuing her life."

Santana nods silently.

"So." And here I am again. "Do you want to start? Should I start? Should I continue using our roommates to avoid the subject?"

A brief smile fades before she turns to me. "I didn't expect to see you that night."

I nod silently as she takes a moment to gather her thoughts.

"But I can't say I was disappointed."

I look away, hiding the smile that has formed without permission. Her furrowed and distant eyes keep me quiet, letting whatever is happening in her mind play out.

"What I don't know is what that all leads to."

Her eyes refocus, gazing at me expectantly yet patiently. It's my turn to avoid eye contact. "I can't deny that I'm attracted to you on some level." I catch her let out a breath from the corner of my eye. "But I don't see how it's possible for anyone not to be." I gain a bit of confidence and look her in the eyes. "We both know where Saturday was going, but I don't know where that would have left us today. I mean, was it just convenience then? Would it be convenience now?" Neither of our eyes waver from the other's. "I don't even know what I want."

After a moment, Santana breaks the staring contest to check her watch. "I guess we're in the same boat then. I just wish the boat was a little more decisive." She chances a smirk that proves to be infectious.

"So, what now?" My hands sit calmly on my lap.

Santana checks her watch once more. "Well, we should probably head back to work."

"I completely agree." Her eyebrow rises at my eager tone. "I was being decisive about something."

Her smile fully reaches her eyes as we make our way back to our desks.

The next morning I'm into work before anyone else, as normal. My yellow Chucks rest on my desk as my mind rests as far from work as possible. Mine and Santana's talk hadn't cleared anything up yesterday. My conversation with my roommate last night only left me more uncertain.

"Hey, Rachel, are you up?" Nothing. "Rachel?" Still nothing. "Rachel, I need relationship advice."

A head pops up from the bed I'm sitting on. "Relationship? Does this have anything to do with the cute Latina friend of a gorgeous new love interest of mine?"

Reminding myself that she is my best friend and I don't have anyone else to go to at this hour, I resist the urge to just leave. "It does, but don't read into the term relationship too far."

Rachel sits up straight, urging me on with her eyes.

"Santana and I…" I pause not knowing what I want to say.

I feel Rachel's hand rest on my knee. "Just start talking. Don't worry about a filter; it will only keep you from saying how you really feel."

I start again, giving into her advice. "Santana and I have become close. At work, I mean. We have a good time and work isn't so boring anymore." Rachel squeezes my knee before removing her hand. "There's always been chemistry between us, but I've never let myself consider what kind of chemistry it was."

"But then Saturday happened." Rachel adds knowingly.

"Right, Saturday happened."

"Have you two talked about it?"

I scoot beside Rachel so I can rest my head on her headboard. "Yes, and we concluded nothing."

"What conclusion are you looking for?"

I turn my head to her incredulously. "I don't know. If I knew, I would have told her. Or I would have been too scared to tell her and told you."

Rachel gives me a chastising look and my tone turns from irritated to exhausted. "How do I know if I want something with her?"

"What's keeping you from just taking a chance?"

"I don't want to screw up her being my work buddy." A pause before I add. "And I want to stare at her and it be out of appreciation for her body and not longing what I can't have."

Rachel's slap to my arm comes as no surprise, but I accept it as the consequence of cutting a tiny bit of tension from my chest. When she's convinced I was joking, she gives me parting advice. "It's not always obvious, Brittany, but if you're able to go back to normal without yearning for anything more, that's your answer. But sometimes it's one tiny thing that makes you realize you just want more, you know?"

I had gone to bed last night not knowing what I would do this morning. The best I came up with was going about the day as normal, and seeing where it led.

Santana arrives fifteen minutes after I sit down at my desk, a smile on her face as she acknowledges me. "Must be Tuesday; you're wearing my favorite shirt."

My eyes turn down to the duck and dolphin on my chest, and my mouth opens without permission. "Food."

"A verb might help a bit with that sentence." She sits down unfazed, switching on her computer.

My Chucks find the ground and my hand finds a pen to twirl as I gather myself. "Remember that bet I made with Puck about you a while back?"

She nods. "Yeah, jeans or khakis."

"Right. Well, he bought me lunch because I won, and since you helped me win, it would only be fair if you got something out of it."

"What were you thinking?" Her head cocks, eyes pensive.

"Dinner. Tonight. With me. I could pick you up around seven?"

"Then I will be ready around seven." She turns to her computer, but I'm sure I caught a smile break out.

Hiding a fist pump, I turn back to my own computer and open an IM.

Pierce, Brittany: That whole lunch bet thing was just a cover. I was actually asking you out on a date.

Lopez, Santana: You don't say? :)

Her voice calls out once her typing ends. "I brought the new Backstreet Boys CD. It's going to be a good morning."

Yes, it is.