Chapter 7

...

West Side LA – 2:58pm

One Year: Two Weeks: Five Days: Seventeen Hours: Twenty-Three Minutes

Outside Harper's Publishing Building

A scowl formed on Santana's face as she listened to her publisher rant onwards in front of her. Usually when it came to business matters Santana tried to stay professional – despite her outbursts at times and her frank persona, not to mention her ways of making her editors cry – but she was respected which is why her editors, agents, and publishers stayed by her side. They knew she didn't mess around when it came to her book or her work and that when push came to shove she could always come through, but lately she was proving them wrong. She had promised them a manuscript of the final book to her popular series – The Elizabeth Jones Story – by the end of last week and had failed to come through. Despite telling Quinn she had already told her publishers she had discontinued the series she actually hadn't told anyone anything. She was weighing her time and weighing out her options which were slim to none. She did have a manuscript ready, that much was true on her part, but every time she went back over it or just picked it up her stomach twisted and she had to fling it across the room to take away the anxiety that built up inside her. Everyone knew her series was based off of her own life and the words she wrote down and the feelings she felt during each moment that Elizabeth went through was real for her. Too real. The way she wrote the unfinished manuscript was so heartbreaking and depressing that sometimes she couldn't believe she actually wrote it. She knew it would sell because everyone loved the way she told her story and so many people related to her – but that still didn't mean she wanted to share that part of her life. That part of Elizabeth's life. That torture and depression and hurt. Despite the bad times that most teenage lesbian fans had told her they endured she was sure they didn't want to hear what she had to say. And so that story wasn't going to be told.

"Look." Santana stated, putting her hand up to silence Collin, her publisher and friend, "I know I missed the deadline…"

"Missed? You didn't just miss the deadline. You ran it over with a car. Into my house. Into my house, Santana!"

"I get it."

"I don't think you do. We have deadlines for a reason."

"Collin, listen, I just… I need time, okay? You don't understand how difficult writing this last book is for me. This isn't just a final stone in Elizabeth's story; it's a stone in mine as well. Her dreams, her tears, her everything, that's me. Her memories are mine and I have to go through them every single time I write. Do you know how hard that is for me? And I know you're going to say make something up but I can't. And I know you all have given me ideas to work with and I tried to use them, but I just can't. Candle and Hot Like Fire have been my life stories wrapped into a package. Didn't you hear what Wendy Williams said about me? That I'm raw and I'm real and that people love that about me, I can't just go back and change that because my life sucked. I can't and I won't sugarcoat anything for anyone. I don't do that. I'm no bullshit. 100%. And writing what happened to me from graduating college is very hard for me. Just… I just need time." She said in an exasperated sigh.

Collin sighed; swallowing the sentence he had worked up to say and nodded his head in understanding, "How are you? I don't think any of us actually asked."

Santana shrugged, "Better, I guess. Been worse."

"We've been so busy thinking about this stupid deadline and the company's on my ass that I never stopped to think about how hard writing this would be for you." He paused, trying to find the right words, Santana guessed, "You took time off and we all…"

"Were behind me." Santana finished him, "I know. You respected my privacy, everyone did and I am grateful for that but… time heals all wounds, right? My abuela taught me that." Before she disowned me.

"Take as much time as you need. We understand." Collin gave her a weak smile and stuffed his hands into his pockets, taking out his cell phone to make a call to his boss that the book would be delayed. Santana bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight onto her left foot.

"Do you think it's been long enough?" She questioned randomly, catching Collin off guard who looked at her in confusion and so she continued, "It's been a year. A little over a year actually. Do you think it's been long enough?"

"For you to get over it?" She shrugged, "Death is tricky, you know? It takes a while to get over something like that, sometimes we don't. When my gran-gran died it took me months to be happy again. She raised me, you know? How do you get over that? Or let it go? I love that woman. She took a chance on me when no one else did."

Santana sighed, running a hand through her silky black hair, "Yeah. I'll, um; I'll call you when I've had enough time to… I don't know. Write again."

"Take your time. We all get it. Take your time." He smiled at her once more before turning to walk away from her, already dialing his boss.

Santana sighed and began to walk in the opposite direction, taking out her own phone to go through her calendar. She had five meetings scheduled for the following week, all with her literary agent and she was in no mood to discuss her book with him or anyone else. She really wished she would've said she was discontinuing it but then she thought about her fans and she was stung with the painful feeling of letting them down.

"You didn't let them down." Valerie said tenderly, rubbing her girlfriend's back with a small smile.

"Are you kidding? Did you see their faces at the conference? They want the next book. The next chapter in Elizabeth's life. My life. And I haven't even written anything. I mean, I have, but it's not finished. I can't just leave the book on such a sour ending like that."

"Then pick up at a different point. A time jump maybe?" Santana sighed, placing her head in her hands as she sat on the couch in her small apartment with her girlfriend. Valerie had moved in less than a month ago and her stuff was still packed away in boxes against the wall.

"You can unpack you know." Santana said offhandedly, changing the topic, now eyeing the boxes near the TV set.

"But it gives the room such an unpacked feeling, don't you think?" Valerie teased, with a glint in her eyes.

"You."

"Me?"

"That's it. You!" Valerie scrunched her nose in confusion and Santana continued onwards, "You're the answer to my road block. I ended Candle with Elizabeth going to Kentucky and going to college, but that's it. That's all I wrote. She was so happy to be starting over and what I have written is so bland and lacks interest, but you." She smiled as she looked at Valerie, "You are the cure to that."

"And how is that exactly?"

"Like you said, I'll make a time jump. My college life wasn't all that exciting anyway. A few parties and skipped classes here and there but nothing worthy to be put into detailed writing, but after I got out of college was when my journey began. I was struggling because here I am 22 with a BA in English. What do you do with a BA in English?" Santana asked rhetorically shaking her head, "I had lots of stupid jobs when I moved back home because I wanted so badly to get out of Ohio and make something of myself and eventually my mom found my diary and turned it into a book. And that's it! But, there's more. On my first big book signing I met the most gorgeous, hilarious, woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and that is when Elizabeth's journey will really begin. With you! Of course I'll have to change your name. What name do you like?"

Valerie thought it over for a minute, "Grace. It's my mom's name."

"Grace it is. Crap, I have to write this stuff down before I forget." Santana kissed Valerie's lips lightly and quickly got up from the couch and ran to her writing room but quickly reentered the den, "And please unpack those boxes, babe. It's almost as if you're scared to live here."

"I'm not, I'm just lazy." Santana shook her head as Valerie giggled – god she loved that sound, "I'll unpack, promise. Now go, go, write!" And with that Santana was down the hall into her writing room putting her brainstorming to good use.

"Someone's in deep thought." Santana heard a familiar voice state before looking up from her phone at a smiling Brittany.

"Are you stalking me?" She questioned with a teasing brow.

"Duh. You found me out. I thought I was so sneaky about it."

Santana pocketed her phone and shook her head, "Not even a little bit."

"What are you doing around here?"

"You're the stalker, shouldn't you be telling me?" Brittany rolled her eyes playfully bringing another grin to Santana's face, "I was meeting with my publisher. Didn't really go all that well. I write. I didn't mention that before."

"I know." Brittany said matter-of-factly beginning to walk hoping Santana would follow her and eventually she did, skipping to catch up to the blonde. She had longer legs so her strides were longer than Santana's.

"You know?"

"Who doesn't know who Santana Lopez is?" She asked rhetorically, "I've read your books. You have a way of writing that I don't think I've ever read before. Sometimes I got lost because you used a lot of big words, but it was nice. Kind of sad, but nice."

"I can't believe you read my book." She stated in disbelief.

"Oh please, don't be so shocked. Everyone read your book. Except Rachel. She proclaims 'if it's not about Barbra then I don't care.'" She said, giving her best Rachel impersonation.

"Barbra?"

"Streisand. She lives for that woman."

"She's into theatre and stuff?"

"That's an understatement. She lives for Broadway. I'm sure she'd marry it if it was legal."

"She would get along with my friend Kurt well then."

"Kurt? Wait, you're not talking about Kurt Hummel are you?" Santana nodded, "Rachel would flip a switch when she finds out you're friends with Kurt Hummel."

"We went to school together." She said offhandedly, "He was just that overly gay guy I hung out with. Now he's on Broadway, he thinks he's the shit now. He's also a fashion designer."

"Oh, I know. Rachel is peeved she can't afford his clothes."

"He's coming here sometime this week. I could ask him to bring something for her? It's not like he'd say no to me."

"No way, you'd do that for her?"

If it'll make you happy. "Um, yeah, it's not a big deal really. He owes me a few favors anyway." Santana shrugged, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"On my way to work." Brittany replied as if it was obvious, "I work at Doc's sometimes remember?"

"Oh yeah, how could I forget that?" Santana giggled, feeling her stomach feel with something suddenly. It wasn't queasy as it usually was, it was different, almost, butterfly feeling.

"Do you just write? Like, you don't have another job or anything?" Santana shook her head, "Your books must really sell."

"Still do. I love to compare myself to J.K. I'm not all that successful, but I make a good living with it. Plus I save most of it; I don't really shop or buy things I don't need." She shrugged, "I know how to use my money wisely. My mother taught me that."

"What else did your mother teach you?"

"Oh you know, boring stuff. How to kill a person without getting caught, how to bury a body, just boring things like that." Santana joked, though Brittany wasn't amused and for a minute thought she was serious which only made the writer laugh harder. "I'm joking, relax."

"You're kind of scary sometimes."

"I take pride in that actually, so thank you."

They reached Brittany's job a bit too fast for Santana's liking and she sighed quietly.

"Hey, I know we said we're hanging out this Friday but what are you doing tonight? Anything important? Killing anyone? Burying any bodies?" Santana giggled and shook her head, "Sweet. Meet me back here tonight at 7. That's when I get off."

"Can I get a hint to what we're doing?"

"Nah." She dragged out with a small smile, "See you tonight gorgeous."

Santana sighed as Brittany disappeared into the restaurant and bit her bottom lip as she watched the girl from the glass door. She was truly beautiful and not in the sense that she flaunted her body and knew she was beautiful; no, Santana was sure Brittany knew she was beautiful but she didn't brag about her looks and that was a turn on for her. Not to mention she didn't use too much make-up, or any at all really, and she dressed comfortable yet still was attractive with a simple pair of jeans and a V-neck shirt. That queasy feeling rose once again into Santana's stomach, but she ignored it. Or at least tried to. Maybe it had been long enough and maybe it was time to move on, so why exactly did she feel like she was cheating on Valerie?

West Side LA – 7:13pm

One Year: Two Weeks: Five Days: Twenty-One Hours: Thirty-Eight Minutes

Doc's

Santana tapped her foot impatiently in the waiting area of Doc's; she checked her golden wristwatch every so often growing annoyed every time the minute hand went further down the clock. She hated to be kept waiting, not to mention she was the most impatient person on Earth. Her patience was running thin when Brittany lightly jogged towards her in her work uniform and took a deep sigh looking apologetic as she caught her breath – somehow, the sight of her changed Santana's demeanor all together.

"I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. The play ran a little longer than expected. Rachel decided to do a different version of the same song she does every night and this included longer notes and all of that crap. Anyway I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Santana said dismissively, "Are you going to change or…?" She questioned looking down at Brittany's attire causing Brittany to do the same.

"Oh, um, yeah, but I left my clothes back home. Do you mind if we swing by my place first before we get going? I hate this damn thing." She tugged at the collar of her maroon waitress outfit causing Santana to giggle.

"What? What's so funny? This thing always strangles me."

"Nothing, I just… I just remember when I was a waitress, that's all."

"You were?"

"Yeah, I worked at home in Ohio at BreadstiX. That restaurant I told you about? It was kind of brutal. I don't envy you."

"It's not that bad. The uniform is the worse for me. I hate uniforms." She gaged in disgust, "Though I was a cheerleader in high school. I liked that uniform but only because the skirt really complimented my ass. I'll be right back; I have to get my bag."

"I'll be here."

A few minutes passed and Brittany reemerged with her bag swung over her shoulder and a warm smile on her face. That smile was starting to grow on the brunette.

"Ready?" Brittany questioned.

"Definitely."

They walked out into the night air and a chill swarmed through Santana's spine; she shivered lightly and without notice felt a warm fabric covering her shoulders. She looked down to find a small jacket over her shoulders; she turned to Brittany who merely shrugged with a light smile.

"Did you drive here?" She questioned.

"I took a cab actually. Did you?"

"Nope, cab. I was really hoping you brought your car. Though we can always walk to my place. It's not that far actually."

"You live in West LA?"

"Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

"It's not, I was just asking."

...

The walk to Brittany's apartment wasn't as far as Santana had anticipated and once inside she took an interest in the way the bartender lived. The apartment was tiny, smaller than her's, and there were picture frames all around the home. Many of the faces Santana obviously didn't know but figured that the majority of the blonde haired people were relatives of Brittany; she assumed at least one of the brunettes in the photos were Rachel as there were many of her and she was best friends with Brittany after all. The rest she wasn't even going to attempt at guessing. The walls were brightly colored aqua and the furniture was cream colored; it was actually a pretty set up. Lots of stuffed animals on shelves and duck fixtures – wallpaper, statues, and slippers – were around the house as well, at least the part Santana saw. It was definitely different than what she was used to.

Brittany returned from the back room in yoga pants and an oversized dancer's tank with sneakers causing Santana to arch a curious eyebrow as she looked down at her attire of a pencil skirt and blouse.

"I think I'm overdressed." She said with a chuckle.

"You can borrow some of my stuff. I think I have something to fit you. You are kind of small."

"I'm fun sized."

"Or, you know, short." Brittany said bluntly, folding her arms with a teasing brow causing Santana to lightly hit her in the arm. "Come on." Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and led her towards her bedroom – the queasy feeling returned in Santana's stomach as they neared the end of the hall. Brittany entered first, dropping Santana's hand and looking through her walk-in closet for something for the brunette to wear. This gave Santana a chance to look around her room. It was very different from the duck-childlike theme that covered the front part of the house. The room was more mature and adult with maroon walls and a black satin bed set to match. The dresser had limited make-up, though that didn't surprise Santana much, but there was a giant circular mirror and a lot of photos that cascaded the walls and mirrors edge. Santana walked towards the pictures eying them, wondering who all the different people were – Brittany sure did have a lot of friends.

"That's Rachel." Brittany said, sneaking up behind Santana causing her to jump slightly, "Oh and that's Dean." Brittany continued pointing to the different faces on the mirror, "He's like a brother. Oh and that's Jackson, Jessie, Mandy, Lauren…"

"Who are all these people?"

"Friends from home, exes, just really cool people I once knew in another life."

"You kept all of these photos?"

"I like to document important people in my life. Even if we don't talk like we used to or at all I still keep their photo for a memory."

"Doesn't that… I don't know, make you hurt or something?"

Brittany shook her head, "Sometimes. But people come in your life for a reason right? To hurt or to heal, a lot of people on this wall were to heal me."

"Heal you from what?"

Brittany smiled at Santana, "Don't go anywhere." She said as she left the room and disappeared only to return a few seconds later with a camera.

"What are you…?"

"I want to document this moment."

"But, why?"

"Like I said, I like to document important people in my life."

"I'm… I'm important to you?"

"Well, yeah. You're a really great friend to me. Plus, I like you. Come on, smile for me." Brittany turned the device on and snapped a shot at Santana who giggled lightly afterwards.

"I don't think I smiled…"

Brittany looked at the photo through the small screen and shook her head, "You didn't. Smile for me, Santana. Please?" Santana sighed lightly and smiled a bit, "Oh come on you can do better than that." Santana's smile grew wider, but not to Brittany's liking. She placed the camera on the dresser and grabbed Santana to sit beside her on the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Maybe you'll smile when I'm next to you, besides I want to be in the photo too. Come on, we only have like 10 seconds. Smile beautiful." Brittany wrapped an arm around Santana and she felt her stomach loop in a tightening position, but it wasn't a queasy one but something she had felt before. She had felt this earlier but she couldn't place it. She smiled lightly at the camera as it flashed and Brittany quickly jumped up to see the finish product. She turned the device and showed it to Santana with a grin, "See? You're incredibly beautiful when you smile. Oh!" She put the camera down and went to her closet and handed a work-out outfit to Santana, "Here you go. You can change in the bathroom. It's through there." She pointed to a door beside the mirror.

"Where exactly are we going?" Santana questioned but Brittany merely hummed as she picked up her camera and began to go through it. Santana sighed and went into the bathroom to change – her patience was surprisingly not running as thin as expected.

After a few minutes Santana reemerged from the bathroom in Brittany's clothes feeling a bit silly in them.

"Hey my clothes fit you well." Brittany smirked but Santana folded her arms over her chest, squirming in the outfit, "What's wrong? Pants too tight or something?"

"No." She shook her head, "I just… feel weird in your clothes."

"Why?"

Because the last female's clothes I shared was Valerie's. "I just do."

"Awe, don't. You look amazing." Brittany walked over towards Santana and unfolded her arms and placed them to her side looking Santana into those melting chocolate eyes. God, she was beautiful. "You're perfect in anything."

"I'm not perfect." Santana stated firmly.

"To me you are." Brittany said without missing a beat.

"You barely know me."

"I know enough. Don't put yourself down, Santana. You know your books paint a different picture of you. Elizabeth is so confident, so in your face, but you're not. I know people change, but I don't know…" Her voice trailed on.

Santana shrugged, "There's a lot about me you don't know and I'm sure you don't want to know."

"Not true. I want to know everything about you, Santana."

"Why? I'm not that interesting."

"You don't have to be interesting for me to want to know everything about you."

"But, I'm just… me."

"Try me. Tell me something about yourself that I don't know."

Santana bit her lip thinking, "I ran into a fence once. I was five and I was playing hide and seek with my dad and I ran into a fence to get to him. It wasn't all that bad. I had a scratch and I cried, but I was five." She shrugged.

"I've never ran into a fence before. Fell out of a tree though. Hurt my leg really badly, I had a cast and everything. It was pretty cool though. I was… ten I think." Quick pause, "Come on, what else? I'm not bored yet."

Santana sighed but continued talking and before long she found herself reliving old memories with Brittany who relived her own memories in return. Eventually the two forgot about the original plan and spent the entire night talking to one another. Brittany learned a lot of things about Santana, but it was what Santana didn't vocalize that Brittany took note of. Like, how her eyes darted rapidly when she brought up her old glee club and performing or how she played with her fingers when she mentioned her grandparents. The way her smile became wide when she talked about her friends and how it lost it shine when she mentioned work; though while Brittany was watching Santana, Santana was watching Brittany. She noticed how she played with her hair when she was nervous of a reaction or how those oceanic eyes became animated at the mention of dancing. Her entire demeanor changed to sorrow when she brought up high school, but quickly shot back when she bragged about her sports car obsession. Before long the two women were so wrapped up in each other they didn't realize the time.

"Holy hell, it's passed 2. I should get home." Santana said, getting off the bed quickly looking for her keys.

"But it's so late. Just crash here."

"I…I couldn't."

Brittany waved her hand dismissively, "It's late and I can tell you're tired because your eyes are all dull looking."

"They always look like that." Santana argued.

"No, they don't." Brittany stated firmly, "Just rest here. You can even take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"I couldn't put you out…"

"It's not a problem, seriously. I can sleep anywhere. You can sleep in that if you want, but my pajamas are in the top drawer over there." She pointed towards the dresser as she got off of the bed, "I'll be in the den if you need me. Sleep well, beautiful." She smiled sweetly at Santana before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

Santana sighed, biting her bottom lip as she opened the pajama drawer and looked at the pajamas. Lots of ducks and bunnies were on them and she giggled lightly, shaking her head at the clothing. Usually she would've scoffed at the idea of wearing anything so silly but it was Brittany's and that changed her perspective of them. She slid out of the work-out attire and pulled on the pajamas feeling the cotton touch her body, it felt warm, so warm. She took in Brittany's scent but before she could enjoy it she felt her breath get hitched in her throat and felt her stomach tighten once more. It was back to that queasy feeling. She ran towards the bathroom and prepared for the usual routine, but she took a deep breath and stepped back from the toilet.

"No." She said shaking her head, "I… I can't. Not here… I can't." She moved out of the bathroom and slid into Brittany's bed, her warm sheets falling effortlessly onto her body. She was in control of her feelings, of her emotions, of her stomach and for the first time she went to bed realizing it.