All this snow…makes me want to write. Anything to avoid going outside. Thank you for the reviews; that some of you take the time to drop me a note is amazing. For the Anonymous reviews, I unfortunately can't reply to you directly, but if you're reading this, I really appreciate it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

Chapter 9

1st time w/ a girl?

Santana winced as she read Brittany's text. They had agreed to play a version of 20 questions through text messages so they could start getting to know each other. To keep things interesting, they were allowed to ask only one question per conversation each. Things have been super busy for Brittany over at the restaurant, so they haven't been able to properly talk since they last met by chance in front of New Directions, almost a week ago. Santana had tried stopping by the restaurant once for dinner, but Brittany had been too busy to really spend any quality time with her. And for the few moments together they managed to fit in that night, their mouths had been occupied with something else besides talking.

Santana blushed, thinking about her and Brittany's quick make out session in the cold storage room behind the restaurant's kitchen. She'd been hesitant to give in to the sexual tension brewing between them before they had a chance to really talk, but the moment Brittany had pressed her against the cold wall and attacked her lips, Santana's reasoning had flown out the window. She could still feel how the contrast between the room's low temperature and Brittany's hot body had made her shiver in excitement. If only Blaine hadn't interrupted them…

Santana's musings halted as her phone signaled a new message. She ignored it in favor for answering Brittany's earlier text.

We should prbbly talk about this face2face Britt…

San… :-(

This was the second question Brittany had asked that Santana had trouble answering. The first had been whether she was still in school. Santana had been about to answer with a simple 'no' when she had decided to be a bit more forthcoming. She'd confessed to Brittany that she dropped out of college about two years ago, and Brittany had asked why. Santana's answer had been the same; that she would explain everything once they could talk in person. Brittany had understood then, but Santana knew she could get away with that excuse only so many times.

I can tell u who she is, but I wanna explain in person.

K.

Santana took a deep breath, before she typed:

Quinn.

She waited for Brittany's reply with trepidation. Not that she thought Brittany would get mad or anything. But, she knew by experience girls often didn't understand when she tried to explain she and Quinn had a one night stand a long time ago, but had managed to remain friends. She wanted the opportunity to tell Brittany all about it, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Her phone vibrated.

Oh.

Before Santana could think of something to say to appease Brittany's apparent turmoil, her cell signaled another incoming text.

I dated my roommate 4 like a week freshman yr of HS.

What in the world? Santana stared at the phone, 5 seconds away from freaking the hell out. Was Brittany currently living with an ex?

He's super gay btw.

Santana breathed a sigh of relief, laughing at herself.

I was about 2 flip my shit lol

I know ;-) g2g but talk 2 u soon?

U bet. Bye Britt.

Bye San!

Santana was about to set her phone aside when another text came through. She opened the application again, remembering to also check the text she had ignored a little while ago. They were both from the same person:

Are you on your way?

Come on, Santana! I need you. It's about to start!

She rolled her eyes, but got up from her bed, where she'd been lounging on. In one move she picked up her purse and a black coat that had been hanging off of her closet's doorknob, rushing out of her room. She needed to hurry if she was going to make it in time.

Fifteen minutes later, Santana was pushing open heavy wooden double doors that led down a long corridor. At the end of the hall, a security guard stood in front of another set of double doors. She approached him, and he let her through after he found her name on the list he was carrying. She looked left and right, until she found who she was looking for amidst the confusion.

"I'm here, Berry."

Santana stepped back as the short brunette whirled around to face her. She raised an unimpressed brow at the finger that was currently being waved in her face.

"Santana, you barely made it on time. How could you do this to me, you know this is a special occasion. The casting director for Funny Girl is in attendance, and he needs to see me at my absolute best!" Rachel finished with a dramatic flick of her wrist.

"And you think having me up on stage singing with you is going to make you look good? Unless," Santana raised a hand, palm facing outward as if signaling for Rachel to step back. "You want me to look bad next to you. Is that it? What do you want, for me to mess up the lyrics or something? Because I refuse to get up there only to look like a fool."

"No Santana, sincerely, it hurts me that you think I'd stoop to such unethical measures only to win a part!" Santana rolled her eyes. If there was anyone out there who would stab someone in the back in order to be a Broadway star, their name would be Rachel Berry. "No, what I need is for you to be exceptional, astoundingly talented, so that the director can see I can hold my own against a voice as powerful as yours, and be completely impressed with me instead."

Santana frowned in confusion. She didn't know whether she should be flattered by Rachel's praise or offended Rachel thought she sounded better than her. She felt Rachel grip her arm, and let the shorter girl drag her towards a seat facing a mirror. They were currently backstage at Berklee Performance Center, which was buzzing with activity. Expectant singers and actors / actresses walked up and down the floors, getting ready for the big show. From what Santana understood of tonight's event, the school of music had put together a performance competition for its alumni, and tonight was the final stage.

"Ok, so you just sit right here, and I'll go find my friend Kurt so he can get you ready."

"Rachel," Santana held onto the other woman's arm before she could run off to find her friend. "Are you sure it's ok for me to be up there with you? Didn't you say this was an alumni only kinda thing?"

"Santana, for the last time, it is perfectly fine, I checked with the judging committee myself. All the finalists have already proven their solo talent by getting this far into the competition; they want to see something completely new, a true performance. And for that, they assured me it was not only allowed, but highly encouraged to seek outside help."

"Then why me?" Santana tightened her hold, letting her deep buried panic surface. She loved singing, and she loved performing. As far as she was concerned, the bigger the audience, the more people she could dazzle, but only as long as it was all done in good fun. This was big, bigger than her usual casual venue. This could make or break Rachel's career. "Rachel, maybe you should rethink this, or find more people. Who are we kidding, just the two of us won't be enough to impress anybody."

"Santana," Rachel gripped her face between her hands, looking deep into Santana's eyes. "You are one of the most talented singers I know. If there's anyone who can measure up to my standards, it's you. Now, I need you to pull yourself together, and tell me you're ready to kick some ass. Or I'll…I'll tell Quinn you were too chicken to get up on stage!"

"Like hell I am," Santana scowled. "Let's kick this motherfucking competition in the balls," she hissed.

"Yes, well, that's a little more crudely put than I originally intended, but that's the spirit. I'll be right back with Kurt."

Santana watched her leave. She turned to face herself in the mirror, not at all surprised Rachel resorted to blackmail to get Santana to do her bidding. She closed her eyes, inhaling air deep into her lungs. She could do this. Just because this singing gig turned out to be a lot more serious than she thought, didn't mean she was going to fail at it. Rachel was counting on her, and she was going to pull through for the other girl. Not to mention she would rather die than to have Quinn hear about her near anxiety attack.

"You must be Rachel's secret weapon. Oh my, but you are just gorgeous!" She heard someone exclaim from behind her. Santana opened her eyes to find a white guy, with spiky hair and playful brown eyes looking at her through the mirror. He was sporting a big smile, and Santana forgot her reservations, taking a moment to appreciate how the man standing behind her looked like a toothless adult baby.

"Right," she said, trying hard to control her first instinct of insulting the bejesus out of that smile. No point in alienating the person who was supposedly responsible for getting her ready for her stage appearance. "You must be…Kurt?"

"Yes, that's me!" Kurt skipped from his place behind her to her right side, turning her chair so she could face him. "I know exactly how I'm going to dress you, but I might need to rethink the make-up. Rachel mentioned you had dark skin, but I was expecting dark dark, not your gorgeous mocha tan."

Santana leaned back in her chair, surprised. If Kurt didn't look like rainbows would spew out of his mouth at any moment, she would've have sworn that was a come on. A racist one at that, but still. She turned her head a little to the side, enough so she could watch her profile from the mirror. She tried to see what was so great about her skin, but all she saw was skin she was already used to. She didn't think it was as wonderfully exotic as Kurt apparently did, but then again, she would probably think differently if she was as pasty white as the man in front of her. Not that white skin was bad, because Brittany's skin was certainly a huge turn-on for Santana…

"God, stop thinking about her," she mumbled under her breath, trying to shake Brittany from her mind. As if dreaming of the blonde wasn't enough, did she have to daydream about her too?

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Kurt asked distractedly, preoccupied with the makeup bag he was currently rummaging through.

"No, no I didn't say anything."

"Ok then, let's get you looking fabulous…uh, I'm sorry I don't think I caught your name," Kurt said, holding a small dark pencil in the air.

"Santana. Santana Lopez."

She saw Kurt's mouth drop open.

"What?" He didn't answer. "Kurt?"

She waived a hand in front of his face, but he didn't even blink. She looked around, trying to see if anyone else could see what was happening. The man had gone into complete shock out of the blue, and she was now stuck with a petrified Kurt, who had a sharp pointy thing way too close to her eye.

"Kurt, are you finished with her?" Rachel suddenly appeared behind the still frozen man, wearing a long golden dress that seemed to sparkle different hues of gold depending on the angle of the overhead lights. "Oh Santana, you look wonderful!"

"But he hasn't done anything yet," Santana tried to say, but Rachel wasn't paying attention.

"Now, where's the dress he set aside for you…oh there it is!" Rachel walked off before Santana could stop her, leaving the Latina staring after her with a hand raised as if to bring the brunette back. She turned back to Kurt; his hovering arm had lowered a bit, and he now looked down to the ground with a deep frown rather than at Santana's face with a look of utter shock. She slowly got off her chair, trying not to startle him. He was probably bat shit crazy; there was no other explanation.

She went around him, just as Rachel came hurrying back to them.

"Rachel, there's something wrong with –"

"Here, go put this on, and hurry, because we're next up!" She pushed her towards a dressing cabin, pulling the curtain closed once Santana was fully inside.

"What the fuck is going on?" Santana wondered aloud once she was alone. She changed, appreciating how the deep wine colored dress hugged her body in all the right places. She looked into the full body mirror. She indeed looked good, surprisingly enough. Her hair was straight on top, coming down in waves past her shoulders. Her eyes looked dark, not in an ugly way, but rather in a smoky mysterious way. Finally, the dress accentuated her natural curves, and as she turned she noticed a slit that started mid-thigh, showing off her leg.

"Damn, I look smoking hot," she said to herself, before whipping the curtain aside and striding towards the stage. Show time.

###

"Brittany, you need to come to Rachel's performance right now," Kurt whispered fervently into the phone. Brittany took the phone away from her ear, stretching her arm away from body as far as it would go, letting out a deep sigh. She could hear Kurt calling out to her from the small device. She brought it back towards her.

"Hang on," she said, and stuck it into her pocket without ending the call, not bothering to wait and see if Kurt had heard her. She turned to Ryder as he passed right by her carrying a tray full of steaming dishes. "Hey, cover my tables for just a second ok?"

"Sure, but don't take long, we're getting swamped out here," he grunted as he stabilizing the big tray over his shoulder and made his way to one of the occupied tables.

Brittany walked to the back, noting with satisfaction how everything seemed to be running smoothly. Blaine was truly in his domain, a captain commandeering his army with quick and sure efficiency. The kitchen was buzzing with activity; a good kind of nervous energy in the air. Everyone knew the only reason they were so overwhelmed with orders was because New Directions was doing so well, and Brittany was absolutely sure every one of them would continue to work their hardest for her restaurant.

Once she found a relatively quiet spot she picked up her phone again. Kurt had been calling out to her the whole time it seemed.

"Britt! Britt! Britt! Britt!"

"Ok, Kurt. I'm not in the mood," Brittany said. "This better be good."

"I'm telling you, you need to get down here right now!"

"Kurt, are you fucking with me? I can't leave in the middle of my shift, on a Friday night. It's crazy over here. Especially not because of Rachel."

"It's not Rachel, Britt, you need to come here, right this minute. I can't say it over the phone –"

"Ok, then I'm hanging up.

"No! Wait, God, ok it's Santana, ok? She's here, so you need to come right now!"

"Santana? What's Santana doing at Rachel's performance?" Brittany mumbled more to herself than to Kurt.

"Brittany, please just trust me. I can't explain, you really need to see what's about to happen. If you run, you'll make it in time, so hop in a cab and get your behind over here!"

"I'm so confused. What, now you're ok with me and Santana? And you're in no position to ask me for anything, I'm still mad at you."

"Brittany, I know, but please, trust me on this. You need, you need, to see this with your own eyes," Kurt pleaded, voice laced with urgency.

Brittany looked down, biting her bottom lip unsurely. She couldn't leave her restaurant, not with the way things were out there. She had every waiter who worked for her on duty tonight, her included, and they were still almost not enough to handle all the customers. She couldn't afford to leave right in the middle of their busiest night yet.

But this was Santana. Kurt was right, she needed to go see for herself what was going on with the girl. Her girl.

"I'm on my way."

A/N: So the layout for this chapter is a bit different. I had to include both POV's in one chapter because this was really the only way it would work. Next chapter might be the same. If it got too confusing, please let me know.