Brittany's eyes fluttered open and she found herself nuzzling into something pink and plush. She pulled back a little and realized she was cuddling with Ms. Cutie. The memories about last night flashed through her mind, causing the blonde to squeeze her eyes shut and groan a little, burying her face back into the unicorn. First the trial, then the Chicago premiere, which was a huge success, by the way. Then Brittany and the other dancers went to Holliday Bar to celebrate it. Santana, her performance, their dialogue in the hallway. That creepy guy. Santana.
As the thoughts about the fierce brunette came into her head, Brittany shot up in bed, looking in the corner of the room. The light over the armchair was still on, but the sleeping Latina wasn't there. As well as the papers on the armrest and the blanket, that Brittany picked up from the floor and covered Santana with. The blonde glanced at the nightstand – Santana's glasses disappeared just like the other items. Brittany inhaled heavily. She thought what if that was just a dream? Brittany shook her head; it seemed too real to be a dream. Her look focused on the glass of water, which was still on the nightstand. It was half-full. She smiled. She really woke up in the middle of the night because of thirst and Santana had slept in the armchair.
Few minutes passed and Brittany decided it was time to get up. She rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom.
After brushing her teeth and taking a shower, Brittany stepped out of the guest room, still wearing sweatpants and hoodie. She didn't want to change in her own outfit from last night and since she slept just one night in Santana's clothes it wasn't gross or anything. Besides, it was too comfy to give it back to Santana yet. The blonde wasn't sure where the kitchen was, and since the Latina's apartment was quite large, Brittany had to wander through it before she made her way to the room she was looking for. She spotted Santana standing at the island, cup of coffee in her hand. The girl was already all dressed up, ready to the trial.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Santana cheered, looking up at Brittany.
The dancer stopped with a look of confusion and bewilderment on her face.
"Ugh, sorry." The brunette shoulders slumped down. "Just always wanted to say that. Morning." She mumbled and rolled her eyes at herself.
"Morning." Brittany replied quietly.
"Have a seat." Santana nodded her head at the stool next to her. She set her mug next to a newspaper on the island and turned away from the blonde to get another mug of the cupboard.
As soon as Brittany sat down, Santana has set a mug of hot liquid in front of the girl. Brittany inhaled the aroma and breathed out contently, smiling slightly.
"Hot chocolate." She hummed after she took a sip.
"Um, yeah. I didn't know if you like it, but my mom always says a cup of hot chocolate makes your day better. And since yesterday was, uhm, a rough day and today isn't gonna be easy as well, I thought…well, yeah." The Latina awkwardly scratched the back of her neck.
"Thank you. I love hot chocolate." Brittany answered timidly, glancing up at Santana who rubbed her neck, tilting her head left and right, wincing slightly. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, just my neck aches a little." The brunette waved off.
"Here, let me help you." Brittany stood up and walked over to Santana.
"What? No, I'm fine." Santana tried to take a step away from the dancer, but Brittany grabbed her by the arm and sat her down on the stool.
"Don't worry, my mom is a masseur, so I'm pretty good with my fingers." The blonde stated simply, starting to massage Santana's neck.
"Wanky." Santana muttered letting her head fell back as Brittany kept working her magic on the girl.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Your neck is so tense. Is it always like that?" Brittany asked.
"No, it isn't. Slept uncomfortable, I guess."
"Oh…"
"Yeah, my pillow fell on the floor, so I've slept in a strange position all night, you know." The Latina elaborated.
"Have you slept in your bed?" The girl questioned.
"Sure. Where else could I sleep?" Santana answered matter-of-factly.
"Right…" The blonde sucked in her lips. If she didn't know better, she'd believed Santana.
For a few minutes the room was filled with silence, broken from time to time by Santana's humming.
"You're really good with your fingers." The Latina said as her eyes rolled back into her head once again.
"Wanky." Brittany repeated the brunette's words.
"As if you know what it means." Santana scoffed. "Ouch! What was that for?!" She yelped when Brittany pinched her neck. The Latina tried to stand up, but the blonde put the hands on her shoulders, not giving her a chance.
"For you being mean." Brittany answered, continuing to give her a massage.
"Me being mean? It's you! You were mean!" This time Santana managed to wriggle free and she turned around, glaring at Brittany.
"What? When I was mean?" She looked confused.
"Now!" The Latina threw her arms up. "You pinched me!"
"I did it just because you were mean." Brittany defended.
"When you're doing something mean just because the other person did something mean it is mean, too! You pinched me so hard it hurts!" Santana exclaimed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie. Should I go and get Ms. Cutie so you could nuzzle into her and cry your heart out?" The blonde asked sarcastically.
Santana's mouth fell open and her eyes widened in shock. She definitely didn't expect this. "Eat your breakfast." She mumbled, moving a plate of waffles closer to the blonde.
"I'll eat at home." Brittany retorted.
"No, you'll eat here."
"No, I will not!" Brittany stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Jeez, how mature." Santana scoffed.
"Said a girl with a plush unicorn." The blonde scoffed back.
Santana blushed furiously. Brittany wasn't sure if it was of embarrassment or anger. "Fine! Stay hungry all day. It's not like I care."
"What? Why I'm gonna be hungry all day? Are you going to lock me up here?"
"You wish, Blondie." The Latina smirked. "Anyway, you will not have time to eat if you're going to be in the courthouse today. We have 20 minutes before we should go to pick Quinn up."
"We?" Brittany asked, puzzled. "I can do it by myself. She's my friend." Brittany said a little too harshly. She knew Santana had a point, because it would be easier and faster to go at her house before they all could go at the courthouse, but the she didn't want to admit it.
Santana took a deep breath before she said, "Look, Brittany, I know I'm probably the last person you'd like to see. But things have happened and we're here now. I'd gladly have driven you to your place yesterday, but you didn't tell me the address." She shrugged. "So could you, please, put your hate down for a-"
"About that, Santana, I don't think I will be able to-" Brittany tried to tell Santana how much grateful she was, because the Latina literally saved her. She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if Santana wasn't there last night.
"No, I get it, I really do." Santana interrupted. "I won't force you to eat here, do whatever you want to do. I'll finish my coffee in the other room, so you don't have to breathe in the same air with me." She said a bit sadly, recalling Brittany's words from the other night.
The blonde bit her lip and looked down at her lap, guiltily. Santana was the most confusing person she had ever met. Sure, the Latina still annoyed her, but there were moments when she couldn't help but felt a strange attraction to Santana. Did Brittany hate her? No, she couldn't say that anymore.
"Santana?" She called when the brunette was about to step out of the kitchen.
"Yeah?"
"Stay?" Brittany looked at her with pleading eyes.
The girl hesitated for a few moments, but then nodded and made her way back to the island. Brittany exhaled relievedly and took a waffle from the plate. "Thank you." She whispered.
"You're welcome." Santana whispered back, knowing the blonde was meaning not just the waffles.
"Well, you go to get ready and I'll wait here." Santana said as she had parked her car in front of Brittany's house.
"Don't be ridiculous, you can come in. It's not like we'll be ready in a minute." Brittany shrugged her shoulders and stepped out of the car.
Once Brittany opened the front door she saw the small blonde excitedly hurried down the stairs.
"Britty! Mommy, Britty came back!" She exclaimed.
"Hey! I see you're ready to go, huh?" Brittany wrapped one arm around Kathy's shoulders and tried to take a few steps further into the house, but it wasn't easy when the little girl was hanging on her leg.
"Why haven't you slept home?" Kathy asked, looking up at Brittany curiously, not noticing the brunette who was awkwardly standing by the front door.
The dancer didn't know what to say, but, fortunately, was saved by another blonde who threw her arms around Brittany, hugging her tightly.
"Britt!" Quinn breathed out relievedly. "Are you alright? I've talked to Holly earlier. Britt, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up my phone last night. Kathy was worried because of the trial and I stayed in her room and then fell asleep." Quinn was on the verge of tears.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Really. Let me go, Drama queen, we don't have all day."
"Uh-huh." Quinn mumbled, burying her face into her best friend's shoulder.
"Quinn, come on." Brittany whined. "I see that you and Kathy are ready to go, but I need to change. Or you want me to go in these sweats and hoodie? You know I can." Brittany giggled, when Quinn shook her head lightly still nuzzling into her shoulder.
"Right, I'm sorry." The hazel-eyed blonde released Brittany from her bear hug. After a couple of steps back she noticed Santana was still standing at the door, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.
"Santana!" Quinn exclaimed and ran to the Latina, pulling her into another bear hug. Brittany rolled her eyes at Quinn and walked up the stairs. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you." Santana's eyes widened comically at this greeting. She awkwardly patted Quinn's back, mumbling something unintelligible.
"Sorry." A few moments later Quinn pulled away, realizing she was acting overly dramatic.
"It's alright." The brunette looked at her amusingly. She had never seen Quinn acting this way; usually the blonde was quite composed.
"Hello, my name is Kathy." Quinn's mini-copy walked to Santana with an outstretched hand for a handshake.
The Latina looked down and smiled. "Hello, I'm Santana." She politely shook her hand. "I'm, uhm…" Santana stammered, not knowing what to say next. She glanced over at Quinn for help, but turned out she didn't need it when the little girl spoke again.
"Oh…" She breathed, staring at Santana, fascinated. The brunette frowned slightly, confused by Kathy's reaction. "I know who you are. You're defending mommy from unfair judgments that were imposed by society."
Now it was Santana's turn to stare at Kathy with her mouth wide open. Not that she was very experienced in dealing with children, but she knew that the nine-year old kids do not talk like that.
"I'm pretty smart, right?" Kathy asked without false modesty.
Santana chuckled, shaking her head slightly in amazement. "You're definitely the smartest of all the kids that I've ever met."
The girl blushed furiously and bowed her head down, trying to hide her wide grin. After a couple of moments she looked up again. Kathy opened her mouth to speak, but when no words came out, she closed it, intensively staring at Santana.
"What is it?" The Latina asked, smiling gently.
"You're very pretty." Kathy became even redder.
"Thank you, Kathy. You're really pretty, too. And I like your dress, it emphasizes your eye color." Santana answered.
"Britty is always telling me that, too!" Kathy beamed. "About the dress and my eye color. No, wait. She says I'm pretty as well…and also she said you're very beaut-"
"I'm ready!" Brittany skipped down the stairs.
"Gr-reat…" Santana was still looking at Kathy, thinking about what the girl was going to say if Brittany didn't interrupted her. "Let's go then, shall we?" Santana finally looked up at Quinn, then at Brittany. Both women nodded and with that Santana turned around to open the front door.
When they made their way to the Latina's car, without thinking Brittany hopped into the passenger seat, surprising her best friend. It's not like Quinn wanted to sit in front, but knowing that the things between Santana and Brittany weren't easy, she thought the blonde would rather sit behind her lawyer, but not next to her. Quinn shrugged her shoulders and climbed in the back seat next to Kathy. Santana quietly started the car and pulled out on to the empty street, driving away from Brittany's house to Kathy's school. They were riding in a comfortable silence, trying to enjoy the last minutes of calm before the three girls will have to return in the tense atmosphere of the trial.
"So, let me make this clear. You had been working with Mr. Walcott?" In front of Santana was sitting another Finn's witness, who was a co-worker of Quinn's late husband. Needless to say this witness wasn't telling anything new or anything that could really be truth.
"Yes."
"And you were good friends with him?" Santana asked, knowing already the answer.
"That is correct." The man said.
"And he had been sharing his thoughts with you on the fact that his wife had an affair."
"Yes, Derek was very upset about this."
"I see... And let me guess, you've never met this woman before." Santana said, pointing to Quinn.
"No, we don't know each other."
"Of course you don't know each other." The Latina said sarcastically. "You know, it seems to me like you and your co-workers that had been sitting here before, are working in some secret organization and it's strictly prohibited to communicate with your colleagues outside of your work building." Santana was beyond furious and wasn't even trying to hide it.
The witness was confused and scared at some point. He helplessly looked at Finn, not knowing how to react. The assistant district attorney sighed heavily and got up, reluctantly.
"Objection. Ms. Lopez impugns the testify of all my witnesses." Finn said.
"Sustained. Ms. Lopez-" Judge Jones turned to Santana. "-don't forget where you are." She warned.
"I'm sorry, You Honor, but this is a nonsense! I understand where I am, but Mr. Hudson is obviously thinking that this is some kind of a chapiteau-show. How many more witnesses does he have who claim they all were good friends with my client's husband, but none of them haven't met her before? Okay, let's say they're not that kind of friends who are hanging out together or making big dinners for each other. But they had been on the same corporate parties and still Mr. Walcott hadn't introduced his wife, whom he loved immensely as all they say, to no one of these good friends. It's just ridiculous!" Santana exclaimed, throwing her arms up. Her temper has reached a peak.
"Ms. Lopez!" The judge raised her voice. "Keep your emotions under control. Each of witnesses has sworn in front of the court, they all are respectable people and we have no reason to doubt the veracity of their words. Unless, if you can prove the otherwise." She quirked an eyebrow, looking at Santana. Seeing the Latina wasn't going to speak she continued. "This is your first warning, do you understand me?" The judge asked sternly.
"Yes, I do, Your Honor." Santana answered as calmly as she could.
"Perfect. Do you have any further questions to the witness, Ms. Lopez?"
"No further questions, Your Honor." Santana inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down, while her mind was racing. Something was telling her it wasn't over. She didn't know what game Finn was playing, but she was sure that wasn't the worst part of this trial, yet. Santana turned around and walked to her desk, without missing a smug look that Finn gave her.
"The people call George Walcott." The clerk announced and Quinn's father-in-law walked in to the room.
"Derek Walcott was his son." Finn said. "Sir, your family had been living in Lima, but when your son graduated from high school and went to college you moved to New Haven. Why? It is not uncommon when children go on to college, which is located far from their home."
"I know. Don't think my son wasn't an independent person. No, he could take care of himself. But, you see, Quinn got pregnant when she was a sophomore in high school and they didn't even consider the abortion as an option. Next year she and Derek got their letters from Yale and, well, they both had to get a higher education, which would give them the way to a bright future. But it would have been tougher if they were on their own. Which is why I and my wife decided to move to New Haven and help them taking care about our granddaughter." Mr. Walcott explained.
"And then, a few years later, you moved to New York." Finn continued.
"Yes. They had graduated and there was no reason for us to stay in New Haven as well. We originally knew we weren't going to settle it there. At first me and my wife were thinking to move back to Lima, but decided to buy a house in New York as well. My wife she's not really a fan of big cities, our children is a main reason to stay here."
"I thought Derek was your only child."
"Derek and Quinn had started dating in high school; she's like a daughter to us." Mr. Walcott sighed sadly.
"I see… Does it mean their relationship was always, like, in front of your eyes?" Finn asked.
"Yeah, I guess. Sure, there is time when I have to be back in Ohio. My business is there, after all. But I've worked pretty hard, so I can manage it from anywhere now."
"Well, then I think you can told us how often they had been arguing or fighting."
"Just like any couples they had their disagreements, but nothing too serious. Derek had always been telling us that Quinn is the one for him."
"So you think that the beating your wife it is not too serious." Finn pushed.
Mr. Walcott clenched his jaw. "My son would never have raised his hand on a woman."
"So you deny it?"
"I do. I had raised a real man." Mr. Walcott stated harshly.
Finn nodded and turned to look at Santana. "Your witness."
"Mr. Walcott, you said your son would never have raised his hand on a woman. Does it mean that you think your daughter-in-law is lying?" Santana asked.
"I do think so." The man answered without hesitation.
"How do you know?"
He narrowed his eyes at the Latina. "Derek had no secrets from me; he had always been asking my advice if something was wrong."
"Everyone has their secrets, Mr. Walcott." Santana crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't you think that real man, whom you had raised properly, was ashamed to admit that he had been beating his wife?"
"How dare you?" Mr. Walcott hissed.
"It's just a question, sir." Santana stated matter-of-factly.
"Objection!" Finn shot up from his chair.
"On what grounds?" Judge Jones asked him.
"Ms. Lopez…she's, uh, it's offensive." Finn said lamely.
"The objection has been overruled."
"No, I don't think so." Mr. Walcott glared at Santana.
"So, you've never noticed injuries or bruises on the defendant's body?" The Latina quirked an eyebrow.
"No, I have not."
Santana's eyes widened in disbelief. "Excuse me, sir, but that's not true!" She exclaimed.
"Objection, Your Honor!" Finn roared.
"Ms. Lopez!" The judge exclaimed.
Santana couldn't care less. She knew George Walcott has lied and she wasn't going to drop it. "Let's say you haven't seen some bruises, but do not tell me you have not noticed that my client's arm was broken. Or what? You haven't seen her in months?"
Mr. Walcott kept glaring at Santana, but stayed silent. The brunette was about to continue when she heard a sniff. She looked over at Quinn, but that wasn't her. She looked then at the other blonde in the room, but Brittany was just staring back at Santana, intensively. The Latina frowned, she knew she heard something. Santana glanced at the people, who were sitting behind Finn, and then she saw it. Carol Walcott was trying to hold back her sobs, staring down at her lap. Santana ran her hand through her hair and turned back to the witness.
"Answer the question, Mr. Walcott!" She demanded.
"So what if her arm was broken? Is my son now the reason of every scratch on her body?" He spat. "She fell down the stairs, for God's sake!"
"Did you know she has a medical report of beatings? And no, I'm saying not about the injuries that she had got the day when your son died."
"No, I didn't know that." Mr. Walcott growled.
"Well, maybe your son wasn't completely honest with you then…" Santana shrugged. "No further questions, Your Honor." She said, never taking her eyes off the man.
Few moments passed, but it seemed that Santana had no intention to get back to her table. Mr. Walcott was still sitting in the witness stand, continuing their staring contest.
Judge Jones cleared her throat. "Mr. Walcott, you can take a seat in the gallery now." The man nodded and went to sit next to his crying wife. Santana eyed them suspiciously before she made her way to the defense table.
The clerk called out Melanie Adams. Quinn looked at the woman, trying to remember where she could have seen her. The blonde was sure she never heard this name before, but strangely her face was very familiar.
"Ms. Adams-" Finn started. "-how do you know the defendant?"
"Uhm, actually, I don't. Well, not personally." The witness said.
"How so?"
"Uh, I mean I know who she is, 'cause, you know, I have TV and read magazines so…" She trailed off.
"Okay…" Finn said slowly. "And?"
"Oh, right! I'm working in that store where she goes grocery shopping at. I'm a cashier."
"Do you recognize her?" Santana whispered to Quinn.
"Yeah, at first I couldn't understand why she looks so familiar, but now I get it." Quinn whispered back.
"-I worked the day shift and I remember Ms. Fabray-Walcott was shopping in our store that day. Uhm, then I went for lunch at a diner across the street and, well, I saw TV News…uh, they said he was dead…I mean Derek Walcott and I was like 'Weird, I've seen his wife earlier'." Ms. Adams said.
"Have you noticed anything suspicious in her actions?" Finn asked.
The woman shook her head. "She acted in the same way as any of our customers. Except for the fact that she was trying to hide her neck."
"Really? Why?"
"I don't know, maybe she was ashamed of the marks on her neck." Ms. Adams shrugged her shoulders. "At first I thought it were love marks, you know. But then when I looked more closely, it didn't look like love marks."
"And what did they look like?"
"Like-like, uh, like they were caused by suffocation."
"That's a lie, Santana! I swear, that's not true. You have to believe me, you have to." Quinn whispered frantically, tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"And that was the worst part." The Latina muttered under her breath, paying no attention to the blonde.
All those witnesses were just a single drop in the sea. They were nothing, but with the testimony of Melanie Adams it all made sense now. Finn wanted Quinn to looked like a monster in the jury's eyes. The cold-blooded manslayer, which had planned everything from the beginning to the end. Santana was horrified. For the first time in her career she had no idea what she could do to make the jury doubt that testimony.
Santana snapped out of her thoughts when Quinn put the hand on her shoulder. She looked at the crying blonde and her heart clenched. She gulped lump in her throat and smiled reassuringly.
"She's lying, Santana." Quinn whispered weakly.
"I know." That was all the brunette could say.
Finn smirked triumphantly, seeing panic at the defense table. "What time was it?" He asked Ms. Adams.
"Uhm, about ten o'clock in the morning." The witness said.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, it was a slow morning, so I was always watching at the clock, waiting for my break."
"According to the autopsy report, Derek Walcott died around eleven to eleven-thirty in the morning." Finn stated. "No further questions."
Santana didn't even have time to get up from her chair when the clerk approached Judge Jones. The Latina eyed them confusingly, not knowing if she should begin. She saw the judge nodded to clerk and turned her attention to the people in the courtroom.
"The hearing will resume in ten minutes." With that Judge Jones walked out of the courtroom.
Santana decided it would be better to go to the attorney-client conference room. She told Brittany and Quinn to follow her and they left the courtroom, too. As they walking down the hall Santana saw George and Carol Walcott were arguing about something.
"George, but what if she's not lying? You know it can be-"
"No! Don't even go there, Carol." Mr. Walcott cut his wife off, seeing Santana was eyeing them curiously. She glanced over at Mrs. Walcott, but the woman quickly looked away.
"Weird." The Latina muttered.
"What are you going to do?" Brittany asked as they walked in to the room. "You know she's lying, right?" The blonde was hugging Quinn tightly.
"I know, Brittany." Santana answered.
"Good. I just…you have to do something, Santana." The dancer shook her head. "What about others?"
"There is nothing I can do about it."
"What? But Quinn doesn't even know those people!"
Santana groaned, closing her eyes. She rubbed her temples, trying to concentrate. "Do you remember Kyle Johnson?"
"That man who said he was a psychologist?" Santana nodded. "Yeah…" Brittany said.
"Well, he really is a Derek's co-worker. Do you know what that means? It means that anyone from his work is ready to confirm his words. How do I know that? Oh, it's easy. You saw what's going on in the courtroom. So, please, can we drop it now, because I need to think what to do with bullshit that Ms. Adams has told." Santana would be ready to bang her head against the wall, if it gave her at least one good idea.
"Every store has cameras, right? Maybe you should check it? Then we'll see that Quinn hadn't any injuries and well…" Brittany trailed off.
"It's not that easy, Brittany. Even if I can get this videotape, the record quality isn't good enough to see anything on Quinn's neck." Santana sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Wait." She suddenly opened her eyes. "Of course! Why didn't it cross my mind before? It actually can work." The brunette mused.
"What? What are you talking about?" Brittany stared at Santana, but the Latina just smirked mischievously. The dancer looked at Quinn confusingly, but her friend just shrugged her shoulders.
"Let's go." Santana opened the door and stepped aside, letting the girls go ahead. When Brittany was about to walk out of the room Santana put her hand on the blonde's shoulder gently, causing Brittany to turn around and look at her. "You are genius, Blondie." The Latina said sincerely and nodded a few times, showing that it wasn't some joke. Brittany blushed and ducked her head, making Santana smile. "Come on now, it's time to make that woman squirm a little."
"Ms. Adams, you said you saw some marks on the defendant's neck." The hearing has resumed.
"I-I did."
"Can you describe what did they look like?" Santana asked.
"I, uhm, I said it was like they were-"
"Caused by suffocation." Santana interrupted her. "But that's not what I'm asking."
"Uh, no?" The witness shifted.
"No. I mean…they probably looked awful, right? Huge purple bruises all over Ms. Fabray-Walcott' neck, yeah?" Santana stared predatorily at the woman.
"Y-yes…" Ms. Adams glanced over Santana's shoulder. The Latina didn't even need to turn back to know who the woman was looking at. "N-no?"
"You tell me." The brunette tilted her head, eyeing the woman.
"They weren't purple – they were, uh, red?" Ms. Adams discreetly glanced at Finn. "Yeah, they were slightly red."
"Does your store have security cameras?"
"Sure."
"So we can watch that videotape and see what you have told us?"
The woman shifted, not knowing what to say.
"Can we?" The Latina pushed.
"I, uh, I g-guess so."
"Ms. Adams, you do know that the general perjury statute provides for a sentence of up to five years in prison, right?" Santana asked casually.
Ms. Adams gulped. "I d-do."
"Objection! Ms. Lopez is threatening my witness!" Finn shot up from his chair.
"Sustained." Judge Jones stared at Santana, giving her an 'are you fucking serious' look.
The Latina lifted her hands up in a surrender gesture, smiling innocently. "Nothing further."
"The witness may step down." The clerk announced.
"We are recessed until tomorrow morning, nine-thirty sharp at which time the defense will give its opening statement and call its first witness." The judge stated.
"What the hell was that, Lopez?" Finn hissed, approaching Santana.
"You tell me, Double-Stuffed-Fatty-Gassy-McGravy pants. You should teach your witnesses to lie better next time." Santana glared at him.
Once the girls were in Santana's car Brittany asked. "What was that? I thought you said we wouldn't see anything on the videotape."
"Mhmm." Santana hummed, looking at the road.
"Would you care to explain?" The dancer became impatient.
"Well, I didn't know if Melanie Adams was aware she wouldn't see anything important on that videotape, but I've decided to take a risk. I know it isn't much, but the jury saw that Hudson's story isn't that smooth. Well, I hope they've noticed how nervous and unsure that woman was. It's already something, right?"
"So, in other words, you deceived her?" Brittany frowned.
"What? No! It was an innocent little trick." Santana retorted.
"Whatever. This trial still sucks." Brittany crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head to look out the car window.
Neither Santana nor Quinn didn't say anything; all three of them knew Brittany was right.
Next morning Santana came at the courthouse a little earlier than it was necessary. She called Quinn to say she'll be waiting for her and Brittany in the attorney-client conference room. The blonde didn't reply, so she sent her a text and began to re-examine all that she had planned for today.
When she had ten minutes left before the hearing will resume, Santana began to worry because Quinn and Brittany still hadn't appeared. She called her client once again, but the call went unreplied. The Latina thought maybe Quinn hadn't read her text and the girls were waiting for her in the courtroom. She hoped so, because it was time to go. Santana gathered her papers and walked out of the room.
Hundreds unanswered calls and five voicemail messages later Santana was on the verge of fainting. She already called Holly to ask Brittany's number, but the woman didn't have it, too.
"What's wrong, Lopez? Can't find your client?" Finn scoffed.
"Fuck off, Hudson. Mind your own business." She growled.
Santana noticed as the judge stepped in to the room and immediately approached her.
"Ms. Lopez?" Judge Jones looked surprised.
"Ugh, good morning, Your Honor." The Latina started nervously. "Could you, maybe, postpone the hearing until tomorrow morning?"
"What? And why is that?" The judge looked around the room, noticing the defendant wasn't here. Her eyes widened. "Where is your client, Ms. Lopez?"
Santana gulped. "I-I don't know."
"What the hell, Santana?" The woman whispered angrily. "I've had enough of your attitude yesterday. Don't you understand what are you doing? You're ruining your career, girl!"
"Oh, I do understand. Besides, my boss made it pretty clear yesterday." She whispered back. "But what do you suggest, Mercedes? Let this asshole Hudson put Quinn Fabr-"
"Hell no, I'm Mercedes when we're singing karaoke together. Now I'm Judge Jones, we are not friends while we're here." She looked around, making sure nobody heard them.
"You called me by my first name." Santana retorted. "But whatever, Your Honor, it's not the point. I know something has happened. I just…I know it. There must be a reason for my client not to be here." She looked pleadingly at Mercedes.
The woman sighed heavily and shook her head. "She'd better be here tomorrow. Otherwise, you know the consequences. I guess you realize how much harder it's gonna be to convince the jury that your client is innocent now when she failed to attend the hearing."
Once Mercedes announced the hearing was postponed at tomorrow and Santana was about to open the courthouse's front door, someone grabbed her by the arm.
"You're so getting creamed, Lopez." Finn whispered in her ear, then smirked and walked out of the building.
A/N: I'm so so sorry, guys, for making you wait. I'm working on my college diploma now, and it goes tough, 'cause I don't really like my major and, well, I'm not really smart.
I don't have writer's block or something and all this Brittana situation makes me wanna write even more, but unfortunately I can't, not now. Ugh, I wish I could get some hugs, but people around me don't even know what Glee is.
Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, following, favorite-ing. Oh, and PM's! Sorry if I didn't respond this time. Anyway I can't live without tumblr (can you blame me?), so if you have something important (or not) you'd want to ask, feel free. ;-)