Chapter 10: Salmon Shack

For the second time in the last twelve hours, Santana found herself in the middle of a very heated crew meeting. Kurt would not shut up about how they needed to keep trying to follow the Dalton, and his protests were drowning out any semblance of reasonable conversation. "Hummel!" Santana finally shouted. "You're not supposed to be here, you broke the rules and risked the well-being of our ship. Go clean the heads."

"B-but," Kurt spluttered, looking at Santana angrily. "But you said—you let me-"

"Keep talking and you'll be cleaning the entire ship. For a week!" She glared until Kurt had no choice but to back down. She knew it wasn't fair—she had implied that he wouldn't be punished—but now he was just getting on her nerves.

"Fine," he said, storming off. "I hope all of you get kidnapped and then I'll make sure we do nothing about it!" He disappeared into the hull and Santana sighed, turning back to the rest of her crew.

"Thank God," she muttered. "Now. We need to-"

"No," Quinn interrupted. "We're not going to see her."

"Quinn," Santana said in exasperation. "We have to. If anyone knows about treasure, it's her."

"Absolutely not!" Quinn said. "She's an evil woman and I have no desire to revisit her, we'll be lucky to get out alive. No, no, no."

"Well then what do you suggest?" Santana demanded in frustration.

"I'm still all for leaving Blaine behind..." Quinn began.

"We're not doing that," Mercedes said. "It's not right."

"Well then we're not going to see her, either," Quinn said. She stormed out of the group. Santana groaned, really wanting to hit someone.

"Real mature, Fabray!" she shouted.

"I'll go talk to her," Rachel said, following Quinn towards the railing.

"I'm sorry," Brittany said quietly from Santana's side, "but who is this person we need to see and why does Quinn hate her so much?"

Sam cleared his throat. "I think we'd all like to know that."

"You can ask Quinn, since she's the only one who knows why she's being so unreasonable," Santana hissed. Everyone was still looking at her curiously, so she said, "Fine. It's Sue Sylvester. Quinn's old...boss."

"Boss?" Mike asked.

Santana sighed. "Quinn!" she called out. "I'm going to tell them your story, unless you come over here and agree to see her right now!"

"I'm staying right here!" Quinn shouted back. "Whatever you wanna do, get it done by yourself!"

"Whatever," Santana said, turning back to her crew. "So Quinn used to be a dancer. Not, like, the theater kind. She danced for men. Pirates. You know."

"I love those dancers," Puck said. "So damn hot."

"It's despicable," Mercedes shot back. "Making girls prance around in little to no clothing...what is the point of that? I don't see any men volunteering for that job."

"We don't need to get into some kind of morality debate, that's not really the point," Santana snapped. "Sue Sylvester was in charge of all the girls who used to dance at this one bar, the Salmon Shack. Quinn used to work for her." Santana scoffed. "I honestly don't even know what the problem is."

"She was mistreated there, that was the problem," Finn said. "She said that Sue used to work them way too hard and force them to stop eating for days so they could stay fit. It's no surprise she hated it."

"Well, I don't think it warrants quite this much whining," Santana said, glancing back over towards Quinn. She appeared to be calming down slightly, which was undoubtedly in part because Rachel was stroking her arm.

"So why do we have to see Sue?" Brittany asked. "I'm still confused."

"Because Sue knows everything there is to know about pirate treasure," Santana said. "I met Quinn at the Salmon Shack, that's when we decided to go to Port Lima together. And I went inside Sue's office. She has books and maps and she pretty much devotes her life to learning about all the myths and legends. When she's not making disgusting weight-loss drinks, I mean."

"It's no use, Santana!" Quinn called out suddenly. "If she really knew about all that stuff, she would have gone out and found it herself instead of living at the Salmon Shack."

"We might as well ask," Puck suggested. "It's better than sailing blindly around the Caribbean, following some guy who we're not even sure is really on our side."

"That's what I'm saying," Santana said. She looked over at Quinn and Rachel. Rachel was murmuring something quietly and Quinn seemed to be listening, albeit with a very irritated look on her face. So whipped.

"Well, let's do it, then," Mercedes said. "Who cares what Quinn thinks, majority rules. She doesn't even have to get off the ship if she doesn't want to."

"Agreed," Puck said. He looked around at the rest of the crew. "Any objections?" Santana looked at them also, daring them to say something. But nobody did.

"Alright," she said. "Let's chart a course."

Despite Mercedes's declaration that Quinn's opinion didn't matter, Santana did need her to help with the navigation. The last time she'd been to Cheerio Island, the home of the Salmon Shack, she'd pretty much stumbled upon it by accident, and she had no idea how to find it on a map. After some coaxing, Rachel was able to drag Quinn into Santana's cabin, where she angrily sat down in the desk chair. Santana unfurled the map and held it out.

"Alright, show me where we're going," she said.

"I don't want to."

"Quinn. You sound like a five year old. Do it or I swear to God I will throw you into the brig."

"Santana, do you really think threats are the best way to manage this situation?" Rachel asked. "Perhaps reasonable negotiating would be a more effective method."

Santana sighed. "Be my fucking guest."

"Quinn, honey," Rachel said. "Please show us. I know you don't want to go back there, but it'll really help everyone out."

"It's not just that I don't want to see her," Quinn grumbled. "It's that this whole trip is a total waste of time."

"But we're getting Blaine back!" Rachel said. "Come on, he's your crewmate. Don't you miss him?"

"Not really."

"Quinnie." Rachel stood behind Quinn in the chair and reached down, tangling her fingers in Quinn's short hair and massaging her scalp. "I know I'm not really part of the crew but I would hate to participate in any decision you made that resulted in the loss of Blaine's life. I think that if there's anything we can do to help him, we ought to do it. Even if its only so we can sleep well at night. Don't you agree?"

Santana watched the internal struggle on Quinn's face, feeling smug. She knew Quinn wasn't going to be happy about this, but with Rachel touching her like that, it was only a matter of time before she gave in. "Fine," Quinn spat suddenly. She jabbed her finger onto the map. "There's the damn island. It's only a few days away."

"About time," Santana said in exasperation, reaching for her compass. She froze, however, as Rachel surprised both of them by leaning down and placing a light kiss on Quinn's cheek.

"Thank you honey, that was very brave," she said.

"I-what...Santana, I'm still mad about this!" Quinn spluttered, her face bright pink. Santana just smirked and shook her head.

"Get out of my chair," she said. "I have a course to chart."

"Santana..." Quinn began dangerously.

"Come on," Rachel said. "Let's go outside with the rest of the crew." She took a dumbstruck Quinn by the hand and led her to the door. Santana just sat down and looked at the map, rolling her eyes.

By the time evening came around, they were pointed in a new direction and well underway. The mood on the ship seemed to have lightened considerably now that they had a plan, and Kurt was mostly forgiven for his traitorous act during the night. Kurt, however, had not yet forgiven them for refusing to follow Blaine, and Mercedes and Sam had been sent down to the bunks to try and calm him. Everyone else was hanging out on the deck, relaxing after eating dinner. Brittany was with them. In the confusion of the morning activities, nobody had had much time to notice the fact that Brittany had joined their crew, but now that they had, Santana was nervous. Would they like her as much as Santana did?

She hoped not. She already liked Brittany way more than she should.

She wandered over to where everyone was sitting. Brittany was on a box between Artie and Tina, and Rachel, Finn, and Quinn were gathered around them. They all seemed to be listening to something that Brittany said, and as Santana drew closer, everyone broke out in laughter.

"Hey Santana," Brittany said. Santana did a double take. She was pretty sure this was the first time Brittany had said her name. "I'm going to sleep in the bunks tonight," she continued. "With all these guys."

"Are you sure?" Santana asked. "There's no rush, you know."

"I mean, technically I should get Blaine's cabin..." Quinn muttered, before Santana silenced her with a look.

"I'm sure," Brittany said. "I like these people. They're nice to me. Did you know that Artie's legs got bitten off by Puck?"

"Puck?" Santana asked.

"Because he's a sex shark!"

"So can I move in to Blaine's?" Quinn asked. "I mean, until we get him back, if we ever do, which could take ages, anyway."

"I—sure, do whatever you want," Santana said, still looking at Brittany. She looked way more comfortable with everyone than she had before. Maybe being in the bunks would be good for her.

"The bunks will be tight," Artie said. "We have lots of fun. Do you like ghost stories?"

"I love them!" Brittany replied.

"Do you know any?" Finn asked, leaning in. "We always tell the same ones and it gets pretty old."

"I know a bunch," Brittany replied. "But they're really scary. Are you sure you want to hear them?"

"Tell them now!" Finn said. Brittany shook her head.

"Sorry, can't," she said. "I can only tell them late at night, when it's dark and quiet. Otherwise it won't be scary enough."

"Well, I certainly won't be listening to any ghost stories," Rachel said. "So I hope you keep your voice down. I'd hate to suffer from nightmares that keep me from sleeping properly. People need sleep more than they need food, you know."

"Rachel, don't be a party pooper," Artie said.

Brittany pouted adorably. "Yeah Rachel," she said.

"I don't like ghost stories either," Quinn said suddenly. "They're silly and unrealistic. I like stories that are real."

"Thank you, Quinn! I feel the same way," Rachel replied. Santana rolled her eyes. Quinn had never complained about ghost stories before.

"Hey Brittany, can you tell us about the cats?" Tina asked. "I've always wanted to see a cat."

"Cats are the best," Brittany said. "I had five."

"Five cats?" Finn asked, his eyes comically wide. "Did—did you eat them?"

Rachel and Quinn laughed as Brittany said, "No, of course not, silly. They were my pets. I played with them."

Santana had the sudden feeling that she was intruding on some sort of crew-only conversation. That was the downside of being the captain. As first mate, she'd been given an occasional pass to hang out with the underlings, but now that she was in charge, everyone seemed just a little uncomfortable when she was around. It was as though they were worried that she was suddenly going to make them do work and put a stop to all of their relaxation. She began to edge away as Brittany continued speaking, planning on going up to the quarter deck to have a cigar. As she started to walk away, she heard Brittany's story stop.

"I'll tell you guys more later, I'll be right back," Brittany said. Santana heard footsteps behind her, and a moment later, Brittany had caught up. "Hi," she said. "Where are you going?"

"Just...up," Santana said. She reached the stairs of the quarter deck.

"Want some company?" Brittany asked.

Santana smiled. "Sure."

They went up to the railing and Santana rested her elbows on the wood, watching the stars come out. Brittany copied her stance. The cigar was still in her pocket, but she suddenly didn't feel like she needed it.

"You looked like you were getting along with the crew pretty well," Santana said.

Brittany nodded. "They're great. I like them a lot."

"I'm glad," Santana replied. "They seem like they really like you too." She paused and then said somewhat bashfully, "I'm glad you decided to join our crew."

"I am too," Brittany said.

Silence came over them and Santana realized that they were standing closer than they'd ever been before. She could practically feel the warmth radiating off of Brittany's shoulder, and she suddenly felt a trace of the inappropriate thoughts she'd been having recently. She tried to distract herself. There was a slight breeze, which was nice; it would definitely help them get to Sue faster, especially if it blew all night. The rocking movements of the boat would be perfect to help her sleep. Finn was making rum cake for dessert and it was going to be delicious. Brittany's face was so close to hers that if they both turned towards each other, they would pretty much be touching in all the wrong places.

Santana wasn't sure how her mind had gotten back to Brittany, but she knew that there was no going back, especially when Brittany slid her hand a little farther down the railing so that the outside of their pinkies were touching. "Santana..." she said quietly—and there it was, her name again, sounding so much prettier when it came from Brittany's lips. Santana felt Brittany's eyes on her. "Thank you so much."

Santana took a deep breath and turned her head. Her face was an inch away from Brittany's, her eyes level with the other girl's lips. "You don't have to thank me," she said quietly. "I..." She tilted her head upward and looked right into Brittany's eyes. Without knowing what she was doing, she started to lean in.

Her lips met with air at the same time that she heard a heavy footstep on the deck. Her eyes shot open and she saw that Brittany had taken a large step back. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Brittany asked nervously.

"What?" Santana replied, dumbstruck. Her mind was reeling. They'd been a second away from kissing. What the fuck had happened?

"You were saying something," Brittany continued. "You started to talk and then you...lost your train of thought or something." She looked like she wanted to climb right over to the railing and jump off, and Santana couldn't blame her. This whole situation had just turned out-of-hand awkward.

"Uh, I don't remember. I have to go," Santana said quickly, turning around. "I'll catch you in the morning." She headed for the stairs, breathing hard. Why the hell had she done that? She really needed to get these Brittany-related thoughts out of her head.

"Santana, wait," Brittany said when Santana had taken several big steps. Santana groaned and turned around. Brittany's face was flushed and she looked like she was about to cry. "Don't leave. I'm really sorry."

Santana shook her head. "No, I am," she said. "That was inappropriate." She continued to back away slowly. "I really need to get back to my cabin."

"It wasn't inappropriate," Brittany said, still shaking her head. "I...it was fine..."

"You don't need to lie to me," Santana said shortly. "I promise it won't happen again."

"Santana, I like you," Brittany blurted out.

Santana froze. Wait, for real?

"I like you a lot and I just...I'm scared." She reached down and began nervously tugging at the bandages on her injured hand. Santana watched as realization began to dawn on her.

"You like me?" she asked, her heart pounding. "Really?"

Brittany nodded. "Really. I like you a lot. I just don't know if I can do the...I don't know...the kissing and stuff right now. Maybe later."

"You don't like touching," Santana stated. God, she had been so stupid! Here was a girl that Santana had just rescued from being abused not a week ago, and she had been hoping to get a little tongue action? Yeah, not happening. "I'm so sorry, Brittany, I was being insensitive. Of course we don't have to kiss."

Brittany blushed harder. "I want to...you know...later," she said. "But I mean, I'll understand if you don't want to wait. I know it's a lot to ask."

Santana couldn't help but smile. Brittany was right. It was a lot to ask. But she was so damn cute, Santana didn't think she could be attracted to anyone else right now if she tried. "Later sounds good," she assured Brittany.

Brittany grinned adorably. "Really?"

"Really."