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If Brittany had to use one word to describe their time at the restaurant, it would have been awkward. Not that she embarrasses easily or anything, and she'd planned on enjoying her time with Santana and letting Quinn and Rachel talk amongst themselves, but neither one of them seemed to be able to get through a sentence without stumbling half way through and then clamming up.
She wasn't quite sure what she'd heard from Santana's bedroom (though she had a fair idea), but the whole situation was odd. The few moments she'd had to give Quinn significant looks were wasted because Quinn refused to look at her. It would have been adorable if it weren't so obvious.
Santana seemed to notice the shift in the room, and between playing footsie with Brittany and glaring at Rachel, she made some attempts to get the conversation going. Most of these were aborted when Brittany was the only person who she could get to follow along, and that put Santana in a sour mood. Once they'd left the restaurant, if took no small measure of cajoling, enticing, seduction and threats to get Santana to agree not to end their date then and there, but to travel with the three of them to the opera.
"Well, I, for one, think it's a perfect way to cap an evening. Musical theater, as some of you may know, has always been a passion of mine and I've spent years honing my own talent. New York City being the home of some of the greatest musicals and operas in the world, it's only natural that I come here and spread my wings, so to speak."
"Bullshit, Rachel. You only moved here, because Cedes and I moved here, and you didn't want to be the only one in Lima, working at that restaurant where they do melodies from your favorite stage shows every hour."
"Well, having more friends in the city didn't hurt, obviously, but-"
"You sing, Rachel?"
Everyone looked at Quinn suddenly. She had been sitting almost silent all evening, without saying more than a handful of words to Brittany, several to Santana, and almost none to Rachel. Her voice came out in a sort of strangled cry, and she cleared her throat afterwards, folding her hands in her lap, and trying her best to look aloof, but failing miserably.
Brittany's eyes grew wide, and she smiled softly. Santana eyes also grew wide, and she made a cutting motion at her neck, which Brittany didn't exactly see as encouraging. In fact, it looked like Santana would actually rather be beheaded than hear what Rachel had to say about musical theater.
For her part, Rachel's smile widened to an almost impossible degree. Her eyes began to sparkle, and if the shift in the air was any indication, was very enthusiastic about this particular question.
"Oh, yes, Quinn. I do! I started singing when I was four…"
She launched into a story that seemed well rehearsed. Santana turned her body so that she facing Brittany as much as she could in her tight dress, and Brittany put an arm around her. Quinn looked interestedly at Rachel, nodding at all the right parts, laughing when Rachel said something that she thought was particularly clever.
The restaurant was about half an hour from the theater, but with the traffic, it looked it might be closer to forty five minutes, so she settled into Santana, content to whisper things into her ear until her face began heating up, or she laughed. Depending on how flirty Brittany was feeling.
"What are we going to see?" Santana breathed in Brittany's ear after a particularly playful bite.
Brittany drifted her fingertips over Santana's ribs, feeling them under the tight fabric of the dress. The same dress that Brittany had described being torn from her body later on that night. Santana looked absolutely delicious in the outfit, but Brittany couldn't wait to get it off of her.
"It's an opera called The Vampire."
Santana pulled back from Brittany a bit to be able to look her in the eye.
"You're kidding."
Brittany laughed. "Nope. Actually, I knew the guy who composed this one. Well, not knew, heard about. Anyway, the play is actually based on this shtick that Quinn used to do. Back when she was Quinn: Lord of the French court. She would dress up as a dude, bust out some French, and those German backwoodsmen would believe anything she said. Her face was still as pretty as it is now, but she had the pants to pull it off, so they bought it."
"What's it about?" Santana leaned back into Brittany arm.
"It's about this Vampire lord who has 24 hours to kill a bunch of virgins, or else he'll get taken by the devil. Of course in the end he gets found out, and dragged to hell."
Brittany could hear Santana let out a small gasp. "Quinn really did that?"
"Well, evidenced by the fact that she's sitting right across from us and not getting prodded by demons right now, I would say not."
Santana slapped Brittany lightly. "You know what I mean. About the virgins."
"Actually," Brittany said, laughing and nuzzling Santana's hair. "This was a number we did all over back in those days. After a few days in any town, it was easy to see those girls who had been bethrothed to some awful viscount or other wretched nobleman. Maybe some uncle who spent too much time watching them dance or always wanted to know if they'd bathed that day. "
"Gross."
"Yeah, so, Quinn would notice them, and come to them with an opportunity. She'd allow them to travel in her court for a year, and then she'd set them up with some money, and a place to stay, or let them marry whoever they chose. The only catch is that they'd never see their family again."
"She just straight up told them she was a vampire?"
"Well, no, she couldn't get away with that. She just presented herself as a woman who had the means to keep her word."
"And how many takers did she normally snag?"
"A lot, actually. Our parties were pretty rambunctious back in those days."
Santana ducked her head, and Brittany could see the traces of a frown on her face. "You slept with them?"
"Well, not all of them. Quinn slept with some of them."
Santana twiddled with the edge of Brittany's dress, and Brittany continued.
"Those girls weren't interested in me, well, most of them. They were interested in the freedom we could offer them. In the meantime, we spent some time together, but I didn't care about them. I care about you, Santana."
Santana laughed stiffly. "I'm not jealous."
Her tone was a big sharp, and Brittany couldn't help but bring Santana's hand into her own.
"It's okay if you are or you aren't. I don't need to tell you, I'll show you. I plan to stick around with you, Santana."
Santana looked at her, her eyes flickering quickly between Brittany's own eyes and her mouth. She leaned in slowly, and Brittany's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't really contain herself when Santana started looking at her like that. She braced herself for the warmth that she could already feel emanating from Santana's lips. She began to lean forward herself and-
"We're here."
Brittany and Santana jerked apart, and threw a glance across the car. Quinn was already helping Rachel out, and preparing to follow. How had Brittany not noticed when the car had stopped and the door opened? Every time she was with Santana, locked in moments like the one that had just been broken, she felt like she was completely separated from the world. All the normal distractions that usually required all of her attention to block out just fell away, and all she could see was bronzed skin, black hair, and dark eyes.
"Uh, yeah, okay."
Santana sounded disappointed, and turned to follow Quinn. Brittany followed as well, shaking herself as she stood up. She felt still a bit distracted, and wrapped her arm around Santana's in an effort to feel grounded. Whispers and mumbles skirted around the edge of her consciousness, and she waved her free hand in an attempt to brush them away.
"Are you alright, Britt?" Quinn was at her elbow, her brow furrowed in concern. They had known each other for far too long for Quinn not to notice when something was troubling her friend.
Brittany shook her head awkwardly. "I'm fine. Just feeling a little off. Let's get inside. There's too much noise out here."
Quinn nodded, and taking Rachel's arm walked quickly up the steps, and in through the front door of the opera house. The head usher nodded as they passed (this wasn't their first time coming here, and they were known to the owner). With a wave of his hand, he disengaged a velvet rope, and waved them up a set of stairs. Quinn led the way again, leading them up a gorgeous staircase, and to a box with gilded curtains, and two rows of very comfortable looking benches.
"Have a seat."
Brittany slid into the back row, and pulled Santana along with her, offering the front to Rachel and Quinn.
"You'll have the best view sitting up there, Rachel."
Rachel positively beamed and reaching for Quinn's hand, sat down, bouncing a few times in excitement.
"Why thank you, Brittany. That's very sweet of you! Quinn has been telling me about this play, and while I must admit, it sounds a bit dreadful, I also am excited to see the highest of works from the great German composers. I don't know much about Herr Marschner, but I have a feeling this will give us all the feelings reminiscent of the great resurgence of German popular opera that was all the rage only a few years ago- Oh look, a playbill!"
Brittany was glad of Rachel's distraction. She liked the other woman, she really did, but sometimes listening to everything she had to say was a bit exhausting.
She winced again. The feeling returned of someone nearby and she couldn't shake it.
Santana looked at her with a suspicious eye. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah, no, just these seats. They're bugging me or something."
She didn't want to alarm Santana, and she wasn't even sure if there was anything to be alarmed about, but she kept an eye roaming the room just in case. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Just folks settling into their seats, and chatting before the show. She noted the slight shift of Quinn's head. It was a silent gesture that noted her discomfort, and questioned her.
She didn't respond, which in and of itself was response enough.
There was something about the feeling in the room that gave Brittany pause. She couldn't put her finger on it, but scanned the room slowly. There wasn't anything specific out of place. She and Quinn knew it well, they came here year after year, knowing it was a safe place because the owner was also a vampire. He was of a different clan, but they had the kind of mutual camaraderie that came from hundreds of years of dealing with silly humans.
Brittany took a deep breath and leaned back, pulling Santana a bit closer.
"You know, if you're bored by the opera, I'm sure we can find plenty of ways to occupy our time." Santana whispered seductively into her ear.
Her cheeks burned, and she resisted the temptation to dip her hand a little lower along Santana's side.
"I would, but um,"
"What?" Santana said playfully. "Not interested?"
"Oh yeah, no, very interested. But, I kind of promised Quinn we would fool around on this date. Just so I wouldn't leave her in the lurch with Rachel."
Santana sighed. "Fine. But don't come crying to me later cause you missed out on all this."
She gestured to her form fitting dress, and Brittany gulped. She was going to have the patience of a saint to make it out of this evening alive. She mumbled for a few moments before catching Santana's teasing smile again.
"Cat got your tongue, Pierce?"
Brittany turned to Santana, quickly shifting her hand, so it caught low on Santana's thigh.
"Something'll have my tongue in a couple of hours. Don't worry."
Santana gulped loudly. Brittany replaced her arm on the back of the couch, and turned her attention to the stage. She could practically feel Santana's face heating up beside her, and smiled a self satisfied grin at her skill. She really knew how to rile her up. Before Santana could respond, the curtain began to rise, and Rachel sat forward in her chair to cheer loudly.
Brittany hadn't been able to miss the way that Rachel and Quinn had been sharing space all evening, at least after the disaster that had been dinner. And with Santana around distracting her, she really hadn't been able to get a bead on exactly what was going on with the two of them, but she could say she was enjoying it. She'd particularly enjoy getting all the specifics out of Quinn later, and then teasing her about her little crush. Quinn had given her such a hard time about Santana early on, and turnabout is fair play, of course.
The curtain rose on the stage, and the room darkened. Brittany had seen the play a handful of times (it was all the rage about fifty years after their first little trip to Germany, so many insufferable men had suggested it to her), and she'd actually been there for the original events, so the performance didn't hold much interest to her. However, her companion on the couch was of a great deal of interest to her, so she watched Santana intently.
She thought back to that first time seeing her in the library. She had been so worried about impressing Sue, and not letting Quinn down. Of course, those things were still in her mind. But they'd all been pushed to the side. Her thoughts were filled with Santana. Her hands were always itching to text her (though she held off most of the time because she didn't want to seem too creepy), and she found herself missing her voice, her touch, her everything. She had been telling the truth to Santana earlier. She'd been with girls before. She'd been with guys before. And some of them she really liked, and some of them she would wile away hours, weeks, months, years with… But eventually she'd have to leave. She wouldn't give up the life she had for them, and neither would she take them into her world.
Now thinking of having to do that with Santana one day left a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. They'd only known each other for a bit over a month, but that didn't stop the swirling dread that she felt over the conversation that would have to take place one day. The one where she either said goodbye to Santana or… She wasn't really sure what the other option was. Brittany sighed, brushing a wayward strand of hair off of Santana's face, and tucking it gently behind her ear. For her part, Santana was now pretty entranced by the opera. She would never have considered Santana a high culture snob, but she knew good art when she saw it, and Brittany had heard her sing enough times in the shower to know that she A) Had a dynamite voice and B) Knew way more musical numbers than she would have ever admitted in public.
The touch against Santana's face broke her attention away from the show for a moment, and she turned to Brittany, giving her a huge grin, and then kissing her quickly on the cheek. Almost before Brittany could register her surprise, Santana was turned around again, her focus on the stage. The only evidence that she had moved at all was her hand now entwined with Brittany's on the back of the chair. Brittany smiled at the sight, it warming her almost as much as the kiss had. Almost. She watched carefully as Santana, still engrossed in the music, played absently with her fingers.
The music was moving through Brittany, and as she stared at Santana, she felt a peculiar stillness cover her heart. She felt as though she were flying through the air, but her feet were firmly on the ground. She smiled to herself, leaning into Santana's hair and breathing in deeply. The fragrance was Dove shampoo, and hyacinth flowers, and something some uniquely Santana. It was the aroma that permeated everything about her, and caused Brittany to wear her t-shirts home on more than one occasion so she could wrap herself up in it and never let go. It was different from the sweet heaviness that wafted around Santana after they'd go for a run, the spicy heat after she'd been cooking or the heady light flavor that remained on Brittany's lips long after she'd satisfied her. But it ran as the undertone of all those things. Brittany loved it. She thrived on it, and as she breathed it in even now, she got a little dizzy.
She closed her eyes, and suddenly her senses were even more alive. Her tongue could still taste Santana's lips, from when they'd kiss earlier, the memory bringing back the taste even more intensely than before. Her ears, assaulted with the music and trill voices that performed below, welcomed the sound, adding to the cacophony. Her nose still buried in Santana's hair swirled with the smell of her. Her body buzzed where they made contact.
Brittany was enjoying it. She'd never felt anything like it. She was experiencing her senses through Santana in a way that she never had before. Not even with Quinn .
Suddenly, the sweet perfume was cut by another smell. It was dull at first, but sharpened quickly. She snapped her eyes open. The next things that occurred happened in a rapid succession.
1) The act ended, and most of the crowd, Quinn, Rachel and Santana included, were on their feet, clapping.
2) The curtains on the stage closed quickly, leaving the seats in relative darkness in the few moments before the house lights kicked in.
3) The curtains of their box seats closed, leaving them in even more darkness than a few moments before.
Brittany stood up and spun around quickly. She could still see relatively well in the darkness, and smelled the garlic before it reached her. She called out to Quinn who was already standing, and put a protective arm around Santana.
"Brittany?"
The voice was from Quinn behind her and as she turned, she saw Quinn begin to wobble on her feet. Covering the curtain that shielded the opera box was a huge white cross. She watched in helplessness as Quinn fell to the floor, and Rachel rushed to her side shaking her fitfully.
Brittany pulled Santana with her over to Quinn, but prodding her a few times she realized how of a futile effort trying to wake her would turn out to be. Quinn was fragile generally speaking, and wouldn't be any good to them until they got out of the room. Brittany hefted her over her shoulder effortlessly, and spun around to face Rachel and Santana, a panicked look on both of their faces.
"Alright ladies, it seems that we've fallen into a good old fashioned ambush. We're going to need your help to get out of this."
Both seemed rather unsure, but Santana put her hand on Brittany's arm. "What do you need us to do?"
Brittany set her mouth in a grim line. "We have to move."
\
Santana was surprisingly zen about this whole thing. Granted, she had been really enjoying the opera, and the room was a bit darker than she liked it, but Brittany was counting on her, and something about having Brittany on one side of her and Rachel on the other made her feel a bit fearless.
"Go to the door. They've probably set up some sort of trap that will trigger when you open it. You're going to go to the door, and open it while stepping off to the side. Then, after whatever harmlessly brushes past the two of you goes by, we'll make our move."
Brittany was moving as she talked, flipping up one of the fancy couches, and setting it so the legs were facing the door. She gently placed Quinn on the floor beside her and crouched down so that they were both covered.
"But what about Quinn?" Rachel asked.
"She'll be fine once we get out of here. We've just got to get out of here first."
They both nodded.
Santana's heart broke at the quivering note in Rachel's voice. The woman was a firecracker, and was probably one of the toughest people she'd ever met. But sometimes when she faced down the toughest opponents, be it an actual person, or her fear of auditions, there was always a quiver that was under the surface. It was something that was faint enough that you almost couldn't hear it unless you knew it was there. It was moments like this that she hoped Rachel knew that even though they bickered, she'd never let her down.
Santana reached for Rachel's hand and held tight. She was comforted when Rachel gave a small squeeze in return.
"What are we waiting for, then?" Santana said, and pulled Rachel towards the door.
"I'll turn the knob, and move." Rachel said suddenly, removing her hand from Santana's and reaching out for the door handle.
"Rach, wait a second, okay? You can't do that. What if-?"
"Then I'm supposed to let you do it? Mercedes would never forgive me. I promised her that I would take care of you, and I know you promised her that you would do the same for me. But she's your sister, Santana, and I can't have that on my conscience. Now, I won't stand here all night arguing with you. Take up your position and get ready."
Santana only nodded slowly, feeling slightly dazed, and leaned back against the door frame. When Rachel opened the door, it would swing towards Santana, and she would only have a few moments to move to the other side before whatever happened to be out there was either inside or had dissipated. She sent a weak smile at Rachel.
"Ready?" Rachel asked, setting her shoulders.
Santana bit her lip, sent a quick prayer up, and nodded, bracing herself.
With a tug, Rachel pulled opened the door, and draft or crash or anything that Santana was expecting didn't come. The door was slammed closed just as quickly.
Brittany peered over the couch, her eyebrows knit in confusion.
"What happened?"
"I-it… it's-"
"What is it, Rachel?" Santana yelled, her voice cracking with frustration.
Rachel's eyes were wide, and her lip began to quiver. "It's all on fire."
That's when the screams started.
They were clear even through the muffling effect of the curtains, and the faint roar that Santana now recognized as fire, and they were getting louder. She moved in front of the door, pressing both hands fully against it, and registering the dull heat that warned her of the danger outside.
"Be careful." Brittany hissed.
Santana nodded, and turning the knob slowly, pulled the door open. She peeked out the door and saw shadows moving quickly back and forth. She could make out a path in front of her that seemed to be clear, and closing the door, she waved Brittany over.
"We can get through, I see a way. I'll lead, Rachel will cover the rear, and we might be able to make it down the stairs."
Brittany nodded, and went back behind the couch, scooping up Quinn, and hefting her over her shoulder.
"Do you think there are more of them out there, Santana?" Rachel asked, her voice still holding a faint shake.
"I don't know, maybe. If they're the ones that did all this." She gestured around them. "But we don't know who they are or what they want. So, you have to promise me you'll be careful."
Santana took Rachel's hands in her own. "Promise me."
"I promise."
"Good." She turned back to Brittany who was standing almost at her elbow. "Ready?"
"Wait a minute, Santana." Brittany said, putting her free hand on Santana's arm. "If there are vampires out there, whatever they want has to do with us. You'll have to stay out of the way."
"But Britt-"
"They're vampires, Santana. And while they aren't all strong or fast, they are dangerous. I'm going to be a little slowed down by Quinn, but I won't let anything happen to you. Either of you."
She looked them both in the eye.
"Fine, Brittany, but we've got to go now, our only avenue may be disappearing."
Santana had no intention of letting Brittany fight this battle alone. She wasn't sure how'd she'd be able to help, but she'd learned a lot about vampires from Brittany, and she knew that in some ways she'd be invaluable if they ran into trouble. But she had no intention of standing there and fighting about it.
She reached for the door again, opening it a crack. The shadows had disappeared, but the fire still raged, more furiously than ever. She took a deep breath, and opened the door wide. The flames seemed to roar and dance in their direction, but she saw her chance, and feeling for Brittany behind her, she rushed through the hallway, and past the flames.
The place was burning.
Flames licked high on the wall of the landing that lead to the stairs, and the screams that were muted in the small room raised to an almost unbearable volume. Santana stopped at a corner and peered around, seeing the way almost completely blocked by fire. She looked at Brittany significantly, but noticed the look of concentration on the other woman's face. It was too loud and too hot, and too busy. She might not be able to hear or sense if anything was off once they rounded the corner. Santana took her chances and dashed on.
They were a few feet from the stairs when suddenly a huge creak came from the ceiling above her. She turned around to see her little group a few feet behind. As she waited she heard the sound again, and looking up, saw the flames burning across the ceiling. One last huge crack, and the ceiling split open, the old beams weakened by the fire.
Santana thought that seeing your life flash before your eyes right before you die was a myth. She'd heard it enough times, and had seen it in old Bugs Bunny cartoons, but it seemed ridiculous. But in the milliseconds as she watched that burning beam crash down at her she could see her childhood as clear as day; dancing and singing with her mother in her old room. Summers spent with her family in Puerto Rico. Late night sleepovers at the Joneses where she, Mercedes and Rachel would tell scary stories. Then as she got older, getting into trouble and being driven home by her dad's old partner. Letters to her mother going unanswered day after day. Feeling lost and aimless. Every day, every moment, every feeling re-lived and replayed until this very one, and the fiery wooden support beam that would take her life. Santana closed her eyes and held her breath for the impact.
But it never came.
Well, she felt an impact, but it wasn't the one that she'd been expecting. She felt a heavy push on her front that sent her sprawling, and all the air was knocked out of her lungs as she hit the ground, flat on her back.
Santana breathed in for a few moments. Her breaths were shallow and choking as the smoke burned her lungs. The back of her head was pounding from where it had made contact with the hardwood floor. Her skin burned with the heat from the flames as the swam around her. She opened her eyes.
There was a gaping hole in the ceiling where the wood had given away and collapsed. Santana could feel the urgency of the situation, but for some reason her mind was working at a crawl. She did a mental checklist, flexing her toes and fingers, moving her head and feet, shifting her arms at her side. Nothing seemed to be broken though she would have a killer headache in the morning, and the room wouldn't stop spinning. She was about to sit up when a shadow crossed over her.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't my old friends. Quinn Fabray and Brittany S. Pierce. Fancy meeting you here."
At the sound of Brittany's name, Santana's head jerked up. She caught sight of a leg crossing over her torso, and then moving towards Brittany, crouching low at her side. She winced, and touching her hand to the back of her head, felt the wet stickiness there that told her her fall had left more than a mark. The dizziness that she felt when she had opened her eyes came back in another wave, and she swallowed hard to stop the threat of bile at the back of her throat. She tried her best to swing her legs around so she could move toward where Brittany lay.
On the other side of the hall, blocked by a steadily growing wall of flames, lay Quinn who was finally stirring, and Rachel who kneeled at her side, tending to her quietly.
The shadow was now much more recognizable as a person, a very tall, very slim, very angular person. He (or she, Santana couldn't tell), was squatting beside Brittany, and for the first time, Santana could see her clearly. They were wearing dark clothes, very tight, form fitting pants and a leather jacket. They looked like they belonged in the Matrix. Their skin was a deep tan, but they had almost white hair and green eyes. Santana held her gaze for a moment longer, and then her eyes drifted to Brittany.
She gasped.
In knocking Santana out of the way of the beam, Brittany had gotten caught underneath. The pillar was not directly burning, but smoldering, and it seemed to be far too heavy for her to move herself. She was struggling underneath it feebly, probably still reeling from the effects of the blow on her body. She could see Brittany pushing feebly against the post, her teeth clenched with the effort.
The person pushed her fingers away from the timber, and laughed lightly.
"You two have been causing more trouble than you're worth, did you know that?"
Santana couldn't hear Brittany's response over the clamor in the room. But she saw the person laughed again and shake their head.
"Defiant until the end, huh, Pierce? Well, it's a shame really. I didn't have anything against you, but April wants this problem taken care of. And as you and Fabray are two of the most culpable, and Sue never leaves that fortress you call a house, this was the only way to deal with it. But, we've had some good times together, haven't we?"
They reached down to brush a piece of stray ash from Brittany's face. Santana couldn't take it anymore.
"Get away from her."
The person turned, seeming to notice Santana for the first time, and their eyes narrowed.
"What is this, Pierce? You commiserating with the peasants again? I would have thought you were over that." They turned more fully to Santana, taking her in. "She's not that bad at all, though. You've picked a good one. At least until you get tired of her, am I right?"
They chuckled and nudged Brittany with an elbow. Reaching into their pocket, they pulled out two round bottles about the size of billiard balls.
"This concoction should take the fight out of you. It's something made up as a last resort, by some of our more helpful human friends. It's not pretty, but it does the job. I'll have to make sure not to spill any on my toes." They patted Brittany's arm. "Well, I think it's time for me to take my leave. You know, exit pursued by a bear, and all that. It's been good seeing you again, though."
"I said, get the fuck away from her!"
Santana was yelling now, and though she wasn't sure what the person had planned, she didn't like the way they touched Brittany. She was up on her feet, more slowly she would have liked, and not as firmly as she could have been, but she was up. She advanced on the person, hands clenched at her side.
"Santana!" Brittany's cry was strangled on her own exhaustion, the pain in her chest, and panic, but Santana didn't listen. She was seeing red. This person had put her in danger, almost killed Brittany and Quinn, and had Rachel scared out of her mind. This person thought they could get away with all of this, well, they hadn't ever met Santana Lopez before, and they were about to learn a hard lesson.
Brittany's cries caught the interloper's attention, and they looked over to where Santana was advancing on them. Standing up, they turned and Santana used all of her momentum to go crashing into their body, sending them sprawling.
"You insolent-!" Their cries were broken off as Santana maneuvered into a kneeling position over their chest and began to rain blows on their head.
Santana wanted to tell them that she was from Lima Heights Adjacent, and that currently what they were experiencing was her going all Lima Heights on their ass, but the smoke was causing her to tear up, and the breaths that she needed were coming out in coughs and hacks that would have made any communication impossible. She was fairly sure they were getting the message when two strong hands yanked under her arms and handily tossed her to the side, where she thumped against the wall.
After a moment, she stopped seeing stars long enough to figure she probably had a concussion.
She was still at least half way in a seated position, and crawled her way up the wall, ready to move against the new force, but couldn't seem to stay on her feet. Lack of oxygen, and possible brain damage made locomotion a pretty high mountain to climb, so all she could do was watch helplessly as the new person helped the first stranger to their feet.
"You okay, Raze?" Said the boy who had undoubtedly thrown Santana into a wall. He looked like a neanderthal Justin Bieber, and had the haircut and jawline to match.
The person known as Raze brushed his hands off of them. "I'm fine! Now find those bottles, April will kill us if we screw this up."
They found one of the bottles near Brittany, and the thug JB wasted no time opening it, and emptying out the contents over Quinn, who Rachel was trying to help up fultily. Quinn screamed, covering her face, and bucking so hard her back was clear of the floor. Rachel tried to help her, brushing away the liquid tentatively at first, but then with more vigor when she realized that it was nothing that could hurt her.
Raze found the other bottle, shouting in triumph as they raised it above their head. Seeing her opportunity, while the stupid henchman was busy watching Quinn, she gathered up all her strength and ran at Raze again, reaching for the bottle. At the last minute, she was spotted and Raze moved slightly to the side, causing Santana to miss her completely. However, Raze's balance was upset, and that caused them to overcompensate too far the other way, in an attempt to avoid a patch of fire that had sprung up beside them. They hit the floor with a bump, and a small shattering sound soon followed. Raze screamed as some of the brew spilled onto them which in turn caused them to begin yelling wildly. The henchman (Santana couldn't think of him as anything else), rushed over and threw Raze over his shoulder, knocking Santana out of the way again, and flat on her back.
"I've got you, Raze. The fire'll take care of them." He said, and bounded over another row of flames, and into the smoke.
Santana was glad that that present danger was over, but they we no better off for wear. She crawled over to Brittany who had given up trying to moving the beam, and had the palms of her hands pressed into her eyes.
"Britt. Britt, I'm right here."
Brittany uncovered her face. Smiling at Santana, though her eyes were filled with tears. "You did so good, Santana. I'm so proud of you."
"Oh Brittany."
"No, you did amazing. I've never been prouder of anybody. You showed that bitch. You really showed them."
If Santana didn't know any better, she'd think that Brittany was getting hysterical. She pulled one of Brittany's hands into her own.
"Britt, we've got to get you from under this beam, okay? I'm going to help. We've just go to-"
"Santana. Santana, Listen to me." Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and pulled her close. "You've got to help Rachel with Quinn. You've got to help Rachel to get Quinn out of here, okay? We don't have much time. This place is going to burn to the ground, and you've got to get Rachel and Quinn out of here."
Santana, who had managed to get herself up on her heels, sat back on them. "I'm not leaving you, Brittany."
"Santana, you have to. Listen, if you don't leave now-"
"Rachel and Quinn can leave, but I'm going to figure out a way to get you out of here. We'll get out together."
"Santana-"
Santana stopped her words with a gentle kiss, and then pressed her forehead against Brittany's.
"I suggest you stop arguing, and start thinking of a way that we can get this beam off of you. Because I really haven't known you long enough to die with you, Brittany Pierce, and I don't plan on getting burned alive today."
The tears continued to roll down Brittany's face, whether from smoke or emotion, Santana couldn't be sure, but the smile that was on her lips was much less sad than it had been a moment before.
"Um, you two? Quinn is saying something." Rachel said in a smoky voice. Santana would never hear the end of how much damage had been done to Rachel's vocal chords if they ever made it out of this. The weird thing was a part of her was really looking forward to it.
"What's she saying, Rach?" Santana asked, turning towards Rachel and Quinn in the corner, but keeping both hands on Brittany.
"Well, I'm not sure, it's a bit hard to tell, but it sounds like, um, blood."
There was an uncertainty in her voice, but as Santana looked down on Brittany, she knew the implication was understood right away. Brittany squeezed her eyes shut and set her jaw.
"I'd argue with her, but she doesn't have time, and neither do we. She needs blood."
Santana's eyes grew wide. "Her or you? Because you're the one-"
"I need her help to get this off of me. And I haven't had human blood in a long time. At this point it might do more harm than good. At least in the short term. She's the one who needs it and then can help me."
Santana looked over at Rachel, weighing their options. She was surprised by a small voice that spoke up with almost no hesitation.
"I'll do it."
"Rachel, are you sure? It could be-"
"I trust Quinn. I mean, I trust you, and you trust Brittany, and Brittany trusts Quinn. So, that's good enough for me. And we really don't have a lot of time to figure this all out, so we might as well get to it. Time and tide wait for no man, and this fire doesn't seem to be waiting either, so-"
"Your throat, Rachel. Press your throat against her mouth." Brittany interrupted her.
Brittany caught Santana's eyes, and answered her unasked question. With a squeeze of her hand, she let go, and Santana crawled over to where Rachel sat, kneeled next to Quinn. Quinn looked as white as a sheet, all the color gone from her cheeks, and her eyes motionless behind her eyelids. Her chest was moving so slightly that Santana wasn't even sure she was still breathing.
"Are you sure, Rachel?"
"Yes."
With that Rachel tugged on the collar of her dress, pulling it down until the pale of her neck was revealed. And slowly lowered it down to Quinn's motionless lips.
Santana leaned forward, burying her face in Rachel's back, and wrapping her arms around her. The pounding in her head was almost unbearable, but the pounding of her heart of even louder. She gasped lightly as Rachel jolted, and looked up to see Quinn's eyes pop open, and then roll into the back of her head. Rachel whimpered delicately, gripping the bottom of Quinn's shirt in her fist. Quinn's eyes closed, and she squeezed them shut tightly.
A few moments later, Quinn pushed Rachel away from her, with a bit of effort. The color had returned to her cheeks, and she quickly sat up.
"That's enough. Thank you, Rachel." She met Rachel's eye, and took her hand, placing a soft kiss into her palm.
Rachel's eyes fluttered, and she nodded quickly. "It was nothing."
Santana watched Rachel as Quinn moved over to where Brittany lay. Rachel's neck was a bit red, but there were two small pin pricks of blood where Santana assumed Quinn's teeth had made their mark.
"Are you okay?"
Rachel raised her eyebrows. Her eyes looked cloudy and out of focus. "Oh, yes, Santana. I'm fine. More than fine. That was amazing. I've never felt anything like that before. I'd have to liken it to the warm afterglow that comes from making love. You know that moment when-"
"She's going to be out of it for a while." Quinn mumbled, running her hands over the wood still covering Brittany.
"What did you do to her?" Santana accused.
"Nothing. Well, nothing more than usual. Feeding on a human seems to have a certain effect. On both of us, actually. It's something that always happens. It dulls the pain, makes things more, um, ethereal, for a while. She'll snap out of it soon enough."
"I don't know if I want to. This is incredible." Rachel said in a sing song-y voice.
"How long before she goes back to normal?" Santana asked, pulling Rachel up beside her, and joining Quinn beside Brittany.
"Don't worry, San." Brittany said breathlessly. "She'll be back to her old ways in no time. It's not permanent, and it's not addictive. She'll forget most of the sensations in a little while."
Santana accepted Brittany's words, and watched carefully as Quinn put both her hands on Brittany's shoulders.
"You two might want to stand back." Quinn said, pointing towards the one spot along the wall that wasn't covered in flames.
Santana pulled Rachel along, who was loopily talking about how much fun she was having. She watched the look of concentration on Quinn's face, and suddenly a serene aura seemed to come from Brittany as well.
"Push, Britt."
It was like Santana was seeing them for the first time. The love between the two of them, the trust, there was something about the way that they interacted, the way that they worked together. They had been doing it for hundreds of years. They cared about each other. They protected each other. Santana was proud of Brittany, and she cared about her, but she felt a new feeling blooming in her chest. She felt a deep affection for Quinn as well. Quinn who had loved and protected Brittany for so long before she came along. Even if she spent the rest of her life with Brittany, it wouldn't be the same as the relationship she shared with Quinn. But she couldn't help but love Quinn a little bit because of the way that she loved Brittany.
With a deep groan, Brittany flexed her arms, and the beam began to move. Behind Santana, another crash signified that they're time was running short. She resisted the temptation to look back, and focused on Brittany, silently adding her will to the strength that Quinn was giving her. Brittany's arms shook as she hefted the beam a few centimeters more, and then rolled out from under it. The movement knocked Quinn over, but Brittany was up on her feet in a second, and helping Quinn to hers.
She crossed the room in long strides, pulling Santana out of Rachel's arms and into her own. gripping her tightly.
"I think we've spent enough time at the opera, don't you?"
Santana nodded quickly. "Let's get out of here."
Brittany guided Santana and Rachel to the ambulances that were already outside treating those who had suffered some damage because of the smoke. Getting out of the hallway and down the stairs with Brittany up and mobile was a piece of cake, but they were careful as they walked, looking out for weak spots, hidden fires and Raze and their crony possible waiting in another ambush.
Brittany put Quinn in the town car, and after looking into Rachel's eyes and checking her over bodily for cuts or scrapes, put her in beside Quinn. She held up Santana with one arm, and motioned for the driver to lower his window. Giving him Rachel's address, she pointing a finger at him.
"They're both a little out of it. Get them inside, and onto a horizontal surface. I've known you a long time, Telly, I'm trusting you with this. But screw this up, and there will be hell to pay. Understand?"
Her voice was low, and her threat was very clear. The driver, if he responded to the threat, didn't show it. But Brittany had known him long enough to know that he wouldn't mess this up.
"Should I come back for you?"
"No, drop them off, then you're done for the evening."
He nodded, and rolling up the window, drove away into the night. Brittany cradled Santana in her arms and carried her over to the ambulance.
"She hit her head, and she breathed in a lot of smoke." She said before Santana could protest.
The paramedic nodded, and motioned for Brittany to lay her down on a stretcher, while she placed an oxygen mask over Santana's face.
"Britt, this isn't really-"
"Please, ma'am, don't talk while it's on, just breathe deeply, okay?" The paramedic made sure the mask was secure, and then went to the truck to grab some more equipment.
Brittany stood beside the stretcher, one hand gripping Santana's hand tightly, the other brushing her hair lightly away from her face. She smiled down at Santana.
"Hey."
Santana only nodded, waggling her eyebrows.
"I meant what I said back there, Santana. I'm really proud of you. You went all Lima Heights on that asshole. I don't think I've ever seen anyone get the drop on Raze like that. They're usually a lot more careful. But they underestimated you because you're a human. They won't make that mistake again."
She smiled sweetly at Santana, and received one in return. Her thumb smoothed over Santana's knuckles gently. A few seconds later the paramedic returned, dumping her tools between Santana's legs, and snapping on her gloves. She was efficient, but thorough. Ignoring more of the more superficial cuts and bruises, she moved each one of Santana's legs in turn, shone a light in her eyes with a penlight, and felt around her scalp for the gash that was still dribbling blood. She placed some gauze on the back of Santana's head, and patted her leg.
"You're going to need stitches for your head. Plus I think you might have a concussion. We'll take you to the hospital and get you all patched up. Also, I want to let you breathe this stuff in for a little longer. Is that okay?"
Santana nodded, and pulled Brittany towards her protectively.
"Yeah, your friend is welcomed to come too, of course. She can be in charge of making sure the gauze doesn't move. Think you can handle it?"
Brittany smiled, grateful for the levity. "I'm pretty sure I've got it." She sent a wink over to Santana, who was still breathing in shakily. Brittany helped the paramedic who pushed Santana's bed into the truck, and then they both climbed in after her.
The scene on the street was still pandemonium. Though most of the theater goers had been treated and then let go, there were some police cars, three fire trucks. and an ambulance or two, crowd in the street. And the bystanders that had gathered to watch the old building go up in flames had yet to disperse. She looked back from the inferno they had just left and held tightly to Santana's hand.
"That might be the last time I go to the opera for a long time."